by Jane Ederlyn
Odin chuckled, and Egon’s eyes widened.
“I’ll be outside,” Abby muttered and stormed out the French doors.
“Well, so much for wanting my brother to meet my girls.”
Marie raised an eyebrow.
“Go easy on her, Odin.” She turned to Egon and smiled. “Please disregard my Abby. She is not fond of Odin.”
“That is an understatement,” Odin said dryly.
“It is her nature to be wary, and most of the time, he deserves her reaction.”
“Hey,” Odin complained.
“May I offer you a drink?” she asked Egon.
Odin nuzzled his nose in Marie’s neck. “Actually, if you don’t mind brother, Marie and I would like to go upstairs.”
“What should I do?” Egon asked, uncertain.
“You could watch television in the living room.” Odin yelped and turned an icy look at Marie. “You pinched me?”
She ignored him. “Egon, please go outside after Abby. It is a beautiful evening tonight and it would be lovely if the two of you got to know each other.”
“Yes, entertain her.” Odin rolled his eyes.
“Take her coffee. She loves coffee and won’t refuse.”
“Even from a werewolf?” Egon smirked.
“Yes, even from a werewolf.”
Egon stepped out, armed with two steaming mugs. In truth, he didn’t need convincing to spend time with Abby, but Odin didn’t have to know that. “Marie said you might like some coffee.” He handed her a cup.
She took it and offered a polite, “Thanks.”
“So, you don’t like Odin.”
“How did you guess?” The corners of her mouth tipped upward into a sheepish half-grin.
“Don’t be surprised, but it’s pretty obvious. Is it Odin in particular or all werewolves?”
“I don’t know all werewolves.”
“You know me.” He beamed. “Not all weres are bad any more than all vamps are bad.”
“I’m worried about her and that makes me a little harsh with him, I guess. I know he thinks I’m spoiled.” She sighed. “I hear the words in my head, but they spill out before I can edit.”
Egon lowered his voice. “Don’t worry. He can handle it. Just don’t tell him I said so.”
“You know, I think I like you.”
“Think? Come on, I’m not so bad. Friends?”
She smiled wide and genuine. “There isn’t anyone I can talk to about any of this. I would like that. Friends.” She took a sip from her mug and wrinkled her nose. “I hope you like your coffee strong. Marie made it and she believes more is always better.”
“I’ll drink anything.”
She laughed and the sound seemed to him like a piece of heaven.
“How do you know Odin?” she asked.
“He was married to my sister.”
“Is he still married?” she pressed, a catch in her voice.
“My sister left for Valhalla, many a moon ago. He hasn’t remarried. Though our version of marriage is different than yours.”
“I’m sorry about your sister.”
He shrugged. “Like I said, it was a long time ago.”
“How is marriage different?”
“Well, we mate for life for one.”
“What if you wake up one day and decide you can’t stand your spouse?”
“It doesn’t happen. With werewolves, loyalty and instinct supersede some human frailties. We make vows under the moon and keep them.”
He was so serious she gave him a sharp look. “What about the rest of your family?”
“They died when I was young. As a natural-born werewolf, the Ulfsson pack took me in. I lived with Odin’s mother, Bestla, for a time. She was a great lady and treated me as one of her own. When she died, I went to live with my sister and Odin.”
“What other kinds are there?”
“You are either natural-born, when both your mother and father are werewolves, or you are made. If you are natural-born, then you have more control over emotions and shifting. When you are made, you have little or no control and you have to shift during the full-moon cycle.”
“Does it hurt, shifting?”
“It’s effortless, at least for us. I’m not sure about the made weres since I haven’t made any myself.”
“You would think that growing up living with a vampire I would know about this stuff.”
“I knew about vampires, but I hadn’t met a female one until today, and I’ve lived nine hundred years.”
“Really?” She looked at him with what seemed like curiosity and maybe respect.
He nodded. “Odin is even older, but when you’re immortal, you stop counting.”
“I’m the only one who isn’t immortal, it seems. How do you make werewolves?”
“If a human is bitten by a werewolf and survives the bite, he or she will transform into a made werewolf.”
“Is it from the saliva? Can a kiss turn you into a werewolf?”
His gaze darted to her mouth. “As humans, we’re pretty harmless. We have to be in wolf form and the saliva would have to get into the bloodstream. You tensed there for a moment. Did you think I was going to lick your face?”
“The thought did occur to me. Good thing you’re harmless.”
“I’m not totally harmless.” He looked at her hands, wrapped around her mug, and wished she would touch him. When he glanced up, her expression had clouded.
“Can Odin make Marie different?” she asked.
“You mean turn her into a werewolf? I don’t think so.”
Her hands tensed around the mug. He leaned toward her and laid his hands over hers, again he felt a lightning strike of heat where their skins touched. He shouldn’t be touching her. In fact, he had no right to touch her. They had just met and she was not for him, but in that moment she looked like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders and he couldn’t resist her. “Actually, I know he can’t. Marie is always vampire. Odin is either in human form or werewolf. He is the more vulnerable. If anything were to happen, it would be to him.”
“She would have to drain and then feed him for that. And she would never do that.”
“It would be his choice, Abby. Not ours.”
She flinched, as if startled. “Does he still love your sister? Is that why he hasn’t remarried? Does he have kids? What are his intentions with Marie?”
“You really dislike him, don’t you?”
“I don’t. I’m just worried about Marie. Please understand.”
He smiled. “I do. You should be asking Odin these questions, but I will answer because I know him and I know he doesn’t have anything to hide. It’s all instinct and spark with us. He isn’t married because his instincts haven’t demanded it.” He wasn’t technically lying by leaving out mention of a fiancée.
“Was he in love with your sister?”
“Yes. You couldn’t help but love Astryd. She was as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside, and she was my sister.” He gave a lopsided grin that Abby returned. “He hasn’t fallen for anyone until Marie. Odin is a really good guy and I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time.”
A breeze blew in from the water and it floated across the greens. Egon lifted his face to it and sniffed. The smell of salt water assaulted his senses. It smelled good, making him miss the sea, but closeted behind that, was her scent.
She shivered.
“Are you cold?”
“I think it’s my nerves,” she admitted. She looked down at her cup and a flash of surprise crossed her face to discover it empty.
“Do you want to go in?” he asked.
She shook her head and the movement made the perfume of her
hair float toward him. He inhaled deep and long then leaned in to draw another breath. Her smell was different and exciting. He couldn’t get enough and hoped she didn’t notice his body reacting to hers.
“You aren’t wearing flannel shirts or covered in body hair? Haven’t you seen the Wolfman movie?” she asked tongue-in-cheek.
“There is this invention called the electric razor. You might have heard of it.”
“Another myth debunked. You can’t believe anything you read these days.”
They both laughed.
“Now it’s my turn to ask questions,” he said.
“You can ask, but I may not answer.”
“I answered yours.”
“That was your choice.”
“There is something different about you. Does Marie . . .?” He paused. “Does she ever feed from you?”
She jumped out of her chair. “How can you ask me that? That’s . . . that’s . . . You don’t know me and you don’t know Marie. She would never hurt me or use me. I’m not her human slave. I’m her granddaughter.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it.” He was curious about her and the dynamics of their relationship. He hadn’t expected her to take the question badly and flip. “I’m sorry. I’m not human, remember. I’m not judging. I just want to get to know you.”
The telephone rang. She whirled toward the sound and started for the house, rage billowing around her like a cloak. She stopped midway, unable to let the question die. “Never.” As soon as the word left her mouth, her posture sagged like a deflated balloon. Anger emptied as if it hadn’t existed.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have erupted like that. Excuse me.” She disappeared into the house.
He tried to tune her out but couldn’t. Her smell was driving him crazy. He understood Odin now, except Odin could have a relationship with Marie. The only thing between Odin and Marie were antiquated prejudices. For him on the other hand, it was a totally different story.
He picked up her mug and followed the trail of her scent into the house. It wasn’t enough. He needed to get closer, wanted to stick his nose in her neck and breathe her in. He placed the empty cups in the sink and turned. Her back was to him, deep in conversation with a man. He stepped closer. When she didn’t react, he took another one. And another one. Static clung to her hair. Wisps swayed with his breath as he inhaled. She turned and met his eyes.
Chapter XXII
Odin dashed up the stairs, taking two at a time. When he reached the top, he turned and waited for Marie to catch up. She followed leisurely, with a hand at her side and the other behind her, the sway of her body regal and dramatic. He crossed his arms.
“Of all the eligible females in North America, I had to pick the Countess of Creepy,” he said, then quickly retracted. “No. Not creepy. Beautiful.”
“Yes?” she asked sweetly. “Did you say something?”
“Nothing.” He knew full well she’d heard him. There were no secrets between supernaturals, and he liked it that way.
“Hmm.” Marie ambled past him and opened the double doors to her bedroom. “We can sit here.” She motioned to the sitting area by the windows.
He sunk his large frame into a delicate silk upholstered chair and stretched his legs.
Her gaze trailed up his strong jean-clad thighs, flat abdomen, and wide shoulders.
“Do you like what you see?”
“Yes.” She sat opposite him.
“Me, too.”
“Hmm.”
He leaned forward and surprised her with a pop kiss.
She cocked her head and brushed a tendril away from his forehead.
He turned his face into her hand, seeking the refreshing coolness of her skin.
She kissed his eyelids. “It will be a full moon soon.”
“I can feel it. The anticipation makes my blood boil.”
“You smell like a woman,” she said unexpectedly.
Odin stiffened. “I was at the compound.”
“Do you have another woman, Odin?”
“No.” It wasn’t a lie he told himself. He didn’t have another woman, but Marie was skittish about the fiancée issue. If he told her about Deena throwing herself at him, she might get incensed. He couldn’t take the chance when what happened meant nothing. Deena meant nothing.
“Why did you bring Egon?”
“Don’t you like him?”
“Yes, but Abby is not comfortable with the changes in our lives yet nor is she keen on wolves. Have you not noticed?”
“Egon is family. I trust him implicitly, more than I trust anyone else. I would not have exposed the two of you to him otherwise.”
“I’m not concerned about my exposure.” Her finger traced a path on his chest.
“I wanted to show you off.”
Her eyebrow arched, but otherwise her face remained impassive. Her finger continued, connecting imaginary dots and looping figure eights. “She is fretting over my well-being as I do for hers.”
“I thought, hoped, he could amuse her, so we could have a little alone time. I think she could use a friend, someone she can be herself with. If they don’t get along, she can snap all she wants at Egon. He is controlled and mild tempered, and won’t take it personally.”
She leaned back in her chair and put her foot on his leg. “She probably hates you even more for bringing him into our home. The two of you need to grow up.”
He chuckled. “I’m your senior and yet you tell me to grow up.” He brought her foot to his mouth and kissed it. “Ahh, my countess, what am I going to do with you?”
“Actually, I am a duchess.” She glanced toward the door, catching the sound of voices undulate. “I don’t think she hates you. She just doesn’t like you, but she doesn’t know you like I do or that would be remedied.”
“I’m a pretty great guy.”
“I have to agree.”
“Do you want to have sex?”
Marie stood. “They’re downstairs.”
“Are you worried about her hearing our sons d’amour?”
She grimaced. “We will not be making love sounds, and you have a terrible accent.”
“I always hated French.”
“And now?”
“I still hate French, but I love French vampires.”
“Hmm.”
“Now about the sex.”
“We can go into my bathroom.”
“No tub!”
“Yes, tub. Or nothing.”
Odin sighed but followed. “I took a shower this morning.” He pulled off first his shirt and then his pants.
Marie ignored him, turned on the water, and poured a lavish amount of lavender bath gel into the tub. Immediately the bathroom filled with the sweet fragrance. That first whiff of it always made her feel nostalgic. Although, only a small fraction of her existence had been spent in France, those years when she was a new wife and mother, surrounded by lavender bushes and row after row of grapevines, were unforgettable.
“Where are you?” he asked when she had gone still.
“Here with you, of course.” She shrugged off the past and straightened.
He came up behind her and pressed his body into hers, searching for the coolness of her thighs. He slid his hands down her arms, raised hers above her head, then pulled the blouse free of her jeans and over her head. Switching his focus to her pants, his large hands fought with the small zipper. A growl tumbled from his throat. He gave up, settled on her hips, and squeezed. “Take it off.”
She loved his impatience, but most of all she loved to tease him when he was impatient.
She took her time removing everything until she could feel the heat of his body pulsing behind her. His hands reached for her, but she slapped them away and
stepped into the tub, immersing herself in warm bubbles.
She smiled at him. “This feels divine. Join me.”
The tub centered the expansive bathroom and an antique gold and crystal chandelier hung above it. As Odin climbed in, he hit his head on the chandelier and sent it dancing above them in a sparkle of lights. He gave it a menacing look as if it were animate then lowered himself into the tub, spilling water over the edge and onto the floor. He looked down and then at her. “Sorry.”
“I need a bigger tub.” His legs were too long to fit extended and his knees stuck out of the water. “But I didn’t expect to entertain a big bad wolf.”
He smiled despite himself and pulled her toward him, settling her between his legs. He examined the bathroom, from the pink and white damask on the wall, the pink flowered upholstery of the settee, to the silk curtains and tassels. “This room is a bit over the top. It’s so pink, I feel my balls shrinking.”
She put her hand on him. “I do not feel anything shrinking.”
He encircled her waist and squeezed, and then slid his hands up her wet torso to her breasts and pressed against her nipples in a tender, circular rhythm.
“Did you hear that?” Marie stood and stepped out of the tub, unmindful of the puddle of water she left in her wake. She shrugged on a velvet robe and flew downstairs.
In the kitchen, Abby was on the phone and Egon was hovering close, too close.
“Abigail. What’s wrong?”
Abby glanced at Marie’s bare feet with wide eyes. “Nothing.”
“She’s fine,” Egon said.
“John, I’ll call you back.” Abby disconnected the line.
Wrapped in a pink bath towel, Odin barreled down the hall and into the kitchen. Arms flailing, he tried to stop, but he slipped on the wet floor and slid across the kitchen on his bottom.
Grinning, Marie recovered his lost towel and laid it across his lap.
At his expression, Abby burst into laughter.
Egon’s mouth was stretched tight, in an obvious attempt at control, but Abby’s laughter was contagious and soon he was laughing alongside her.