“We just ate.”
He set a package of steak strips on the table. “Yeah, two hours ago.” When I continued to look confused he explained, “My metabolism is probably three times faster than yours. Think about it. How else could werewolves regenerate if their bodily processes weren’t sped up like crazy?”
Well, that made sense I suppose. “I never really thought about it.” I moved to prop on the open door of the refrigerator while he continued to look through the shelves for something that appealed to him.
“What are you looking for?” I asked.
“Steak sauce.”
“It’s in the door.”
His smile looked genuinely grateful as he turned to where I pointed and retrieved the bottle.
“Thanks.”
“So, you really can regenerate? That’s amazing. You know, it probably would have taken me a while to figure out what you are if you hadn’t told me.”
“Nah,” he said, brushing aside my comment. “You’re a smart woman.” He winked at me again and my heart fluttered.
“I feel kind of stupid admitting it, but I always thought werewolves would have certain telltale signs.”
Eramus laughed and licked some of the sauce from his fingers as he opened the bottle.
“You mean unibrows and hairy palms?”
I shrugged. “Well, yeah.”
He held up his palms. “No hair. And I shave between my eyebrows.” He burst out laughing at my startled look. “I’m just kidding. I don’t have a unibrow.”
He put the raw meat onto a plate and doused it with steak sauce.
“I do, however, have the mark of the pentagram.”
My knees wobbled a little bit. Maybe I wasn’t taking this so well after all.
“You’ve got what?”
“The pentagram. Originally it was just an old wives’ tale. I mean, marks like that don’t just show up on people because their DNA changes. But among monster hunters, like me and my grandfather, there is a tradition. We get the tattoo of a pentagram somewhere on our bodies using a special ink. The mark only becomes visible if we are ever infected with lycanthropy.”
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. “And where is yours?”
Eramus opened his robe wide and pulled down his pajamas just enough to show me the pentagram beneath the curve of his left hipbone. I suppose this should have frightened me, but it was actually kind of sexy. I fought the urge to touch the marking, to trace its every curve with my fingertips. Instead, I took a step back.
“Do you have any tattoos?” he asked. His smile once again gave me the impression of a wolf, only now I knew why.
“Yes.”
“Can I see?”
“Maybe, but not right now. I’m cold and if I open my robe…well, there would be nothing to keep me from exposing myself.”
At last I had regained enough of my composure to flirt. Eramus’ eyes looked gold around the edges again and I wondered if I had done something wrong. Maybe I should not have made reference to the fact that I was naked beneath the robe. Well, except for my panties.
“Your eyes, they keep changing.”
He looked back down at the plate as if he didn’t want to meet my gaze when he answered. “Sex brings out the beast.”
“But we’re not having sex,” I pointed out.
This time his smile was all wolf and even though I was afraid, I liked it. “Maybe not, but when you mention exposing yourself, I really can’t help but imagine just that.”
I pulled the robe closer underneath my chin.
“Maybe we should change the subject then, if I’m going to stay here tonight. You do still want me to stay?”
“As long as that wolf is outside, yes. Maybe longer if you like.” Eramus cleared his throat and walked back to the cabinet to get a glass. “Besides, there’s safety in numbers.”
“You mean us outnumbering him?”
“I mean the plants.” He gestured toward the living room as he spoke. “Even a small amount of wolfsbane is enough to kill most werewolves if ingested or weaken them severely if it comes in contact with their skin.”
“But you were just drinking it.”
He took down a wineglass and pulled a bottle out of the fridge. “Would you like some?”
“No thanks.”
He seemed to just realize I was waiting for a response and waved a hand as if in apology.
“I’ve been growing wolfsbane all my life. It looks as if I have an almost complete immunity to its power. Same thing for silver. It’s a tool of the trade and I’m used to being around it. So far, silver has no effect on me and the wolfsbane is very limited.”
While he talked my gaze roamed over his body the way my hands could only imagine. I knew he was answering my question and what he said did register in some other part of my brain. But when he moved his robe swished and opened and when he walked his pants moved just enough to outline—
“Any ideas on changing the subject?” I asked suddenly.
Chapter Thirteen
Sweet Dreams
“You mean from sex?” he asked. “I thought I already had changed the subject.” His smile was warm and knowing and completely male. “Nice to know you need more of a distraction though.”
That was an understatement. If anyone else had been saying such things to me I have no doubt I would have been embarrassed. But it was almost like I had no shame when in his presence. Besides, he was right. I did need a distraction. Was there anything that could keep me from imagining what was beneath his clothes? My territory, that’s what. The words came to my mind completely unbidden and I tried to keep my expression neutral. I didn’t relish the idea of explaining my weird thoughts to Eramus. I’d already said enough strange things tonight, didn’t want to push my luck.
My territory? Who thinks like that? I certainly never had before. I’d thought of a man as mine, but not in the sense that he was my possession. That didn’t seem healthy to me at all.
He picked up the plate of steak and his wineglass. “Why don’t we take this to the bedroom?”
“Eramus, that is not a distraction.”
“I was going to suggest we watch the weather report. It’s the only room I’ve got a television in at the moment.” About that time I heard something howling and after a second realized it was the wind. “Sounds like it’s getting worse out there. I was just going to check it out.”
I crossed my arms and he offered another solution.
“I’ve got lots of books. Pick one and we can read it together.”
“Fine.”
I walked through to the living room and stopped by the first row of books, running my finger down the spine of a large leather volume. When I paused for a moment Eramus said, “Anyone who thinks words can’t be sex has never read Shakespeare.”
I laughed, but pulled the book from the shelf anyway. “True, but if you understand him then you’ll realize there is more to what he was saying than that.”
“You test me.”
He didn’t sound angry at all, but genuinely perplexed by me. I walked back to him, clutching the heavy book against my chest. When I looked up at him I wanted so much to pull him down for another kiss.
“We all test somebody, Eramus. That’s just life. Now, lead the way.”
To my surprise, he turned toward the stairs without another word. As I followed my heart began to beat faster until it got to the point of being wildly out of control. I think I was on the verge of hyperventilation when he stopped and looked down at me from three steps up.
“I’m not going to ravish you,” he said softly. “I also don’t make a habit of eating people I like. You’re perfectly safe with me.”
For once there were no sexual implications in his words. I believed him. But that didn’t make me any less nervous about the prospect of being alone with him in his bedroom. Besides the fact that he was a very sexy man whom I barely knew, he was also a werewolf. There was no doubt in my mind that the situation was far more dangerous than
I realized. But I also had no doubt that Eramus was telling the truth. I was safe with him.
“How did you know I was afraid?” I finally managed to ask.
For a split second his eyes glowed in the semidarkness of the staircase. Even though I stared into the eyes of a wolf when he spoke, there was still warmth in his expression.
“I can hear your heartbeat.”
His words were soft and no sooner had they been spoken then he turned around. Eramus stopped at the door to his room and swung it wide in invitation. His bedroom was sparsely furnished, but what was there made quite a statement. His four-poster bed was huge. If I had to guess a size I’d say it was a California King, like the ones you find in lush hotel rooms. The red comforter was just as violent a shade as the rug downstairs. It wasn’t just red, it was the color of fresh blood. The lower half of the bed was draped with what looked like the hides of several different animals. Two were brown, one black, and another auburn. These lay in stark contrast to a large white pelt that was spread in front of the fireplace in the corner of the room. Strange, but there was a beauty to it, just like Eramus.
The chest of drawers at the foot of his bed looked old and the wood matched the dark floor. Above this was a large, flat screen monitor attached to the wall. I hadn’t known Eramus was behind me until he reached around and switched on the television.
“Do you like it? It needs work I know, but—”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “It really doesn’t. It suits you perfectly.”
“Does that mean you won’t help me redecorate?” His tone was half teasing.
“Did you really want to redecorate?”
He shrugged. “I’d considered it. But mostly it was just an excuse to talk to you.”
Well, it was nice to know I wasn’t the only one coming up with excuses for us to meet. He set the wineglass on the nightstand and I smiled as I realized the bed curtains matched his robe. When Eramus turned back to me his eyes were normal again. He must have been fighting to remain in control.
“Something funny?” he asked, returning my smile.
He crawled onto the bed with his plate of raw steak and reclined against the pillows.
“Not really.” I stroked my hand absently across one of the pelts. “I was just thinking that I’d expect to see decorations like this in a vampire’s house.”
I looked up to see if I’d offended him and found Eramus laughing so hard it appeared he couldn’t breathe.
“Tell me you don’t mean I’m extravagant?”
“I was thinking more melodramatic.”
He put a hand over his heart. “God, comparing me to a vampire in my own house.” Still laughing, he patted the bed beside him. “Have a seat.”
It was surprisingly easy to crawl up beside him and as I opened the large book of Shakespeare, he pulled the remote from the bedside table.
“Does this bother you?” He pointed to the steak. “Not everyone is fond of watching someone eat raw meat.”
“I had a friend in high school who ate his steak almost as rare. You won’t bother me.”
The steak was cut in thin little strips and I watched as he took a piece between his fingers and sucked it down like spaghetti. It’s not as gross as it sounds, really. Actually, I was surprised that eating something completely raw wasn’t a lot worse. If I had to describe the way Eramus ate I would say that he did so…delicately. Maybe he was afraid of offending me.
“I thought you were supposed to be reading,” he said, smiling at me over his wineglass.
“You don’t look a day past thirty-two.”
His smile was thanks enough for the compliment. I never would have guessed his age if he hadn’t told me.
“How old were you when your grandfather retired?”
I deliberately didn’t mention this also being the same time that his girlfriend was killed. No need to bring up painful memories again.
“Twenty-three.” He finished the steak and sat the plate aside. “I worked alone for thirteen years before…”
“How did it happen?”
Eramus finished his wine as if he needed it before he spoke. “I would say that I was careless, but that’s not true. I was always careful. I just got in way over my head. I took on an alpha werewolf one night. The body armor I wore was made of silver. It covered me almost completely. Almost. During our fight he overpowered me, pinned me to the ground. I had his face straight down the barrel of my gun. But I couldn’t pull the trigger faster than he found the weak spot in my armor. Right across the throat.”
Fascinated by his story, I leaned forward to examine his skin. “You don’t have a scar.”
“That’s because after he slit my throat with his claw and left me, I regenerated quickly. By the time I had the strength to crawl out of the woods and check for other injuries, my tattoo was becoming visible.” He pointed to the large black pelt at the foot of the bed. “He was the last werewolf I ever hunted. The reason I have trouble sleeping sometimes…is because of what I did to him.”
“You shouldn’t feel guilty,” I said. My words surprised me just as much as they appeared to surprise him. “He could have easily killed you. That werewolf did what he did on purpose. That’s just plain evil as far as I’m concerned. He got what he had coming to him.”
“I thought so too. But sometimes I wonder if killing him made me just as much of a monster.”
His expression was so sad. I tried to think of a way to change the subject, at least a little bit.
“So, yesterday was the full moon. If you take wolfsbane to keep from transforming, what happens to you on the full moon?”
Eramus turned to the weather report before answering me, but kept the TV on mute.
“Normally I do transform on the full moon. But last night I was afraid that being in a new neighborhood and all, it might not be a good idea. It’s the only night I allow the beast to take over.”
I couldn’t seem to stop myself from moving closer to him. “How does it feel?”
“Like power and freedom.” He shook his head. “I suppose I expected to feel evil or sick or something. But I don’t. It feels good to be me.”
I reached for him and he didn’t withdraw as I ran my hand over his chest. The fine hairs beneath my palm were just as soft as the fur lying at the foot of the bed.
“I want to be close to you,” I said softly. “And I don’t know why. I’m not trying to have sex with you. I just want to be near you.”
Eramus touched the tip of my nose affectionately as he said, “There is something of the wolf in you, Lucy.”
My mind was filled with images of him rolling around naked in all those furs. I was overcome with the need to have him inside me. I shook my head and pulled back.
“What do you mean?” I managed to ask. “I’m not a werewolf.”
He smiled as he took a lock of my hair and wound it around his finger. “I’m not saying that you are. I’m saying that somehow there is wolf in you.”
“But how is that possible?”
“Werewolves don’t pass on their curse to their children. But it’s not unheard of for some trace to remain in your genetic makeup.”
“No one in my family is a werewolf either.”
He shrugged. “You can’t possibly know everything about every ancestor.”
Maybe I didn’t want to accept what he was saying, because I kept shaking my head slowly.
“No matter how attractive you might find me, to have a compulsion to touch me is something that only another wolf could feel.”
“Who said I have a—” The look on his face brought me up short. “All right, fine. So I feel compelled to touch you. So what?”
“I felt it when I kissed you,” he whispered. “I thought you’d like to know.”
Before I could respond Eramus rolled from the bed, leaving me cold in his absence.
“Where are you going?”
“To brush my teeth. Have you ever eaten raw meat?”
I couldn’t help but lau
gh. “No, I haven’t.”
“Well, it leaves a terrible taste in your mouth. Not to mention it probably gives bad breath.”
One minute I was listening to the sound of Eramus brushing his teeth, the next I was overcome with the urge to lie down. By the time he came back from the bathroom I was snuggled underneath the covers with my face pressed against his pillow. I felt like I’d been drugged.
“Are you okay?”
I could hear his voice close to my ear and feel him brushing the hair back from my face. His touch was soothing.
“Did you put something in my tea?”
“Of course not.”
My mind raced. What was wrong? Why was I so tired? And then it hit me.
“We had the same color cup,” I whispered, my voice getting lower.
“What?”
The bed sank down as Eramus leaned over me.
“The second time—you didn’t have wolfsbane tea, did you?”
“No, I had a sleeping draught, but I don’t feel…” his words trailed off. “Oh, shit. I don’t feel sleepy yet. Our cups must have gotten switched when you sat back down.” He pulled me against his chest so that I was almost completely on top of him. “I’m sorry, Lucy. Don’t worry, I’m just moving you so that I can keep you warm. Your body temperature is going to start dropping soon and it’s already going to be a cold night.”
Eramus opened his robe and I sighed as my face made contact with his bare skin. He scooted me up just a bit more and my forehead was against the curve of his throat. Even though I was afraid of what was going to happen, it was exactly where I wanted to be.
“Should I be this tired?” My speech was becoming slurred.
“No, but you had a dose strong enough for a werewolf.” He rubbed my back absently as he spoke and I liked it.
“Am I gonna die?”
He kissed the top of my head and my throat constricted with emotion. There was such tenderness in that simple touch.
“You’re going to be just fine. Now close your eyes.”
“Night, Eramus,” I mumbled against his neck.
“Sweet dreams, Lucy.”
Sex Symbol Page 10