by Tasha Black
He tried to be gentle but in the end he had to push hard against her to find entry. He gasped as she received him.
The pain was brief.
“Are you okay?” he asked her through a clenched jaw.
She smiled tightly and nodded.
When he was fully inside her she shuddered in ecstasy, but the crawling feeling grew instead of receding. Her teeth began to ache and her skin rippled unnaturally over her muscles.
Julian was too lost in sensation to notice. Tiny beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He thrust slowly but his restraint was costing him. Soon he would lose control and Ainsley knew it would be over.
Hoping to end it quickly and escape the wretched pull, Ainsley lifted her hips and raked her nails into his back.
“Easy,” he pleaded.
She responded by latching onto his neck and sucking his salty skin.
“Ainsley!” He grasped her hips and ground himself into her, unable to contain himself.
She could smell the blood throbbing in his cock and hear the semen teeming and buzzing to be released into her.
The pain inside her was entirely gone. There were only the strange nauseous pull and the sharp honeyed pleasure warring for her attention.
He shifted his weight and found a different angle inside her.
The pleasure in Ainsley flared and washed over her. She soared and exploded like a firework. Every nerve ending was sparkling. She cried out in her ecstasy.
Julian swelled inside her immediately, his blue eyes sparking with anticipation.
But Ainsley’s pleasure had dissipated and now all that was left was the roiling crush of the nasty thing that consumed her.
It all happened in an instant.
She felt her body expand. It felt like the first stretch after sleeping late on a lazy Sunday. The relief was exquisite.
The glimmer in Julian’s eyes turned to terror. His mouth gaped open.
She pushed him off of herself effortlessly and hardly noticed as he ejaculated into the air. Her eyes were focused on his throat.
He hit the ground hard on his back. The fall had knocked the wind out of him and he made the sound of a creaking door as he struggled for air. His oblivious cock was still convulsing and shooting out liquidly webs that covered his belly. The veins in his neck were bulging.
Ainsley pounced. Her paws framed his head. The smell of his fear and pain filled her muzzle. The cocktail of weakness was dizzying. She lifted her head and howled a note of triumph before biting down on his neck.
Her canines sank through his flesh effortlessly. She was rewarded with the mewling, gurgling sound of his wordless pleas. Then the first shot of blood hit the back of her throat.
Its coppery warmth spread down her chest and into her belly. Her whole body sang with happiness. She dove into him again, enjoying the spectrum of texture – the soft, buttery flesh, the bone that worked her vice-like jaw, but most of all the seemingly endless waterfall of blood.
An alarm sounded in the distance, reverberating in her sensitive ears at an awful pitch. It was too far off to be a threat to Ainsley’s prize so she ignored it.
He spluttered once or twice and was out. The game was too easy, but the prize was so delicious. She lapped the sweet ambrosia from his neck.
The alarm jangled again.
She shook her head and her lean muscles rippled down to her tail. But she couldn’t escape the horrid sound. She batted at her ear with a paw.
Her paw was caught in a tangle of long, human hair.
Ainsley startled awake.
Her cell phone was ringing from its charger next to the bed. She grabbed it.
Julian Magie
She dropped it back on the bedside table like it was on fire. Ainsley hugged her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth, coaxing her mind back to the real world.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
It was only a dream.
The phone jangled again.
There was no way she could talk to Julian right now.
Chapter 7
Ainsley awoke with a dry throat and a sticky, awful feeling. Sunlight was pouring in the window.
What time was it?
She leapt out of bed. Ainsley Connor never overslept. She snatched up her phone and noticed a message from Julian.
Julian.
The dream.
She closed her eyes and took a careful breath. It was just a dream.
She had been having the dream off and on for a decade. It never changed.
Until last night.
Was that what really happened to Brian? Usually in the dream she woke up before that part. She had blacked out that day, and didn’t remember anything.
Was this her subconscious trying to let her know the truth?
Ever since she came back to this godforsaken town, it had been one nasty surprise after another.
She glanced back at the phone. It was 8:17am. Ainsley couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept past 6:30.
She made her bed carefully. It was a mess of tangled sheets and overboard pillows, but when she had finished there was no more physical evidence of the troubled night.
She picked out a pair of faded jeans and a pink Timberwolves t-shirt from high school and glanced at the logo in the mirror.
Tarker’s Hollow Timberwolves.
Subtle.
It was certainly going to be a shopping day. She headed to her parents’ bathroom and turned on the hot water.
After a few minutes under the heavenly spray of the fancy dual shower heads, Ainsley began to relax. She lathered a loofah with sea salt soap and scrubbed herself until she was pink all over. The scent of cinnamon bun shampoo made the corners of her mouth turn up as she smoothed it into her hair.
She remembered the delicious smell of Erik and her heart thudded.
God, he was handsome.
The memory of his masculine body and the graceful, sinewy way he moved was almost overpowering. Now that she was safely out of his gaze, she could fantasize all she wanted.
What would it be like to be his mate?
Ainsley sighed as she imagined curling up under the sheets with him, sliding her hands across his muscled chest and drinking in that heady aroma.
It was awful to be so attracted to someone who was so wrong for her.
It seemed that he was attracted to her too.
Or was it just that she drew his alpha?
Clearly Cressida was more his type. Come to think of it, the nicest guys usually were under the thumb of a mean skinny blonde.
Though Cressida hadn’t been as mean as she could have been.
Ainsley blushed a little at the memory of whatever had happened with Cressida. She had never had those feelings about a woman before. She wondered what it could mean. It had to be part of the whole wolf thing. Maybe her call to Erik had been strong enough to affect her as well.
Thinking about Erik with Cressida was horrible and exciting at the same time. Ainsley firmly pushed her thoughts away from it.
Could Erik be right about the town?
Once again she wished she had taken advantage of her parents’ information while she’d had the chance. It seemed outlandish that an underground wolf organization existed that was powerful enough to destroy a whole town.
But if it were true, which would be worse – to let them take the town, or to surrender to her wolf and become a bloodthirsty murderer at every full moon?
Ainsley thought again of last night’s dream and repressed a shudder. The water beat down to rinse away every bubble. She imagined the thoughts of the previous night swirling down the drain alongside the lather, and felt a little more normal.
It was natural to have weird crazy dreams at a time like this, wasn’t it?
She had lost her parents, slept with a new guy, found giant sexy wolves in her childhood home, and discovered her father’s book collection ransacked.
If she wasn’t allowed a super weird dream last night then really, who should have those dreams?<
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She smoothed on her honeysuckle lotion. Somehow the only underwear she had brought was sexy stuff, so a layer of thin satin and lace went on under her old jeans and t-shirt.
She dried her hair, then brushed it until it shone and put it into a pony tail. Once her diamond studs slid into her ears she was feeling like herself again.
Ainsley’s skin had always blessedly clear. Her large, dark eyes and dark hair gave enough contrast that a bit of sheer powder and tinted lip-gloss were enough for a day of shopping.
It was odd to lock doors for a daytime trip. Ainsley walked all around the house, securing the porch and patio as well as the back door.
As Ainsley considered that each window onto the porch was large enough for a person to walk through and none had working locks, she realized she ought to call the police to establish that someone had been in the house.
She sighed and looked at her watch. It was already 9:30. Who knew how long it would take to file a police report?
But it had to be done.
The tiny police station picked up on the first ring.
“Tarker’s Hollow Police, Fire & Ambulance. What’s your emergency?”
“Hi there. This is Ainsley Connor. It’s not an emergency, but someone has been in my house.”
“Ainsley, is that you?”
“Um, yes.”
“It’s me, Dale. Are you okay, honey? Did they take anything? I’ll send someone right over!”
“Yes, I’m fine, Dale. Thank you.”
“I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but I don’t know if you should be staying by yourself these days. Does Margie have a room to let?”
Dale was an elderly man. It was odd to realize that he must be a wolf. Ainsley wondered fleetingly if Margie was a wolf too. She was the proprietor of one of Tarker’s Hollow’s two bed and breakfasts.
“I’m fine, Dale. Really. Tell Lana I said hello.”
There was a loud chirp-chirp outside as a police car pulled up out front. Ainsley winced. She wished they hadn’t done that. No need for Sadie Epstein-Walker to have a reason to come bang on the door.
“Sounds like help is at your doorstep, honey. Stop by the house if you have a minute to visit.”
She hung up with a little smile. It was such a small town.
Footsteps on the front porch reached the door just as she did. Ainsley smoothed down her ponytail and grabbed the handle as the bell rang.
The door swung open to frame a trim officer in a navy blue uniform. Her shiny black ponytail shone in the morning sunlight. A look of professional concern was on her heart-shaped face.
“Grace?” Ainsley breathed. No way.
“Ainsley.” Grace smiled and her dark eyes danced.
“I heard you went to the police academy but I had no idea you were working in Tarker’s Hollow.”
Ainsley stepped aside to let her in. They embraced impulsively, then headed right for the kitchen just like they had in high school.
“Yes. They brought me in when Herb Yarnall retired. It’s a great feeling.”
Grace sat in her usual spot at the oak table and Ainsley rummaged in the fridge for something fancy to drink. When they were younger, Mrs. Cortez had never let Grace drink anything but water or milk at home, so she adored the apple cider, lemonade and flavored teas Ainsley’s mother kept around.
Ainsley hadn’t been grocery shopping since she got home. But there was a bottle of mint Honest Tea in the door of the fridge. She held it out to Grace, who nodded enthusiastically.
“I would have thought you’d set your sights higher than Tarker’s Hollow. You were valedictorian.”
“You gave me a run for my money though, didn’t you?” Grace joked.
Ainsley filled two mason jars with ice and opened the tea bottle.
“Seriously though. I don’t mean to be rude, but…”
“Ainsley, I love this town,” she said simply. “There is nothing I want more than to protect it. And maybe one day I’ll raise my own children here.”
“You didn’t get married yet either, huh?” Ainsley asked, glancing at Grace’s bare ring finger.
“Kwan-Cortez is enough of a mouthful. I don’t know if I can add another.”
Grace had a love-hate relationship with her hyphenated name. Her parents had adopted her from China when she was only a year old. To honor her nationality, they given her the surname of her biological mother, hyphenated with their own last name. The Cortez family tree’s roots were in Mexico.
“No way. You’ll just make Mr. Right take yours.”
“You seriously need to get on FaceBook, Ainsley, this is embarrassing. How could you be out of touch for so long? You’re not one of these luddite, hipster-types that doesn’t believe in technology, are you?”
“God, no,” Ainsley laughed. She was normally never without a phone in her hand and an iPad tucked under her arm. Technology owned her. There were times when she felt like her MacBook Air was an extension of her lap and she was more machine than woman. This trip home was a welcome relief from all those screens.
“Then why no FaceBook?” Grace teased her with a pretend sad face.
Ainsley poured. The ice cubes crackled as the tea hit them.
“It’s complicated,” she explained. “Mostly it’s because in my job I can’t have a public social life.”
She sat down in her usual spot, opposite Grace, and put down her own cup on the ring that had marked the space for her drink ever since she could remember.
“I think I may know why else, but that’s not why I’m here today. Or is it?”
Ainsley froze and looked into the Grace’s eyes. She hadn’t lost touch with Grace by accident. Ainsley never had the heart to share what she was. She wouldn’t have been able to bear the look of disappointment from her childhood friend.
Grace held her gaze. Her expression was dead serious.
“Grace, you know that Tarker’s Hollow is a special place. Do you know how special?” Ainsley asked carefully.
“When Herb Yarnall retired the chief had an important decision to make. He needed bring in someone new and trustworthy. My loyalty was tested and I did not come out wanting. If you’re asking if I know what happens in this town at the full moon, the answer is yes.”
The wind went out of Ainsley’s lungs.
“So, with that in mind,” Grace said crisply. “Can you tell me what happened here? When did you discover that someone had been in the house?”
Ainsley went through the events of the previous evening leaving out just a few choice bits. Grace took careful notes.
“As far as I can tell – nothing is missing,” Ainsley finished. “Maybe it was just kids – sneaking in here on a dare.”
Grace nodded and brushed an invisible fleck of dust off her thigh.
Ainsley recognized her friend’s old tell.
“You think it’s serious, don’t you?”
“You’re not just anyone, Ainsley, and those are not just anyone’s books. May I see the room?”
“Sure.”
They ascended the steps quietly. Grace’s eyes took in every detail.
When they reached the study, Grace pursed her lips.
“Ainsley, did you reorganize these books?”
Uh-oh.
“Well, yes,” Ainsley smoothed her ponytail. “I needed to know if anything was missing.”
“Why didn’t you call last night?”
Because I was mad at Erik?
Because I’m a big bad wolf and I’m not afraid of anything?
“I don’t know. It seemed silly to call when nothing was missing.”
“It’s not silly to call. You’ve already disturbed any evidence that might have been here. Didn’t you stop to think that the police ought to be called in to look at it? Or that maybe you shouldn’t just go to sleep in the house after finding this? Have you ever even seen a cop show on TV?”
“You know what I am, Grace. No, I wasn’t afraid to go to sleep. I just wanted to establish that there was an intru
sion, just in case. I took a picture of the books with my phone before I cleaned them up. Do you want me to send it to you?”
“Sure, it’s better than nothing.” Grace handed her a business card. “My email’s on here.”
Ainsley took the card and slipped it in her pocket.
They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment.
“Is there anything else I should know?” Grace asked. “If your father had anything special in this room, or in the house, I need to know about it. Keep in mind that I know how important he was and that I have pledged to serve and protect this town, with all its secrets.”
“Grace, you probably know more about my father and his secrets than I do.”
“You left in a hurry – but you must have asked questions first.”
Ainsley shook her head ruefully.
“I didn’t. And now I can’t.”
The finality of it hit her again and tears prickled her eyes.
To her credit, Grace didn’t try to hug her or comfort her. The young officer’s presence was soothing. Ainsley could hear her heart beating and smell the mint tea on Grace’s breath and the musk of a single dog hair on her uniform pants. Labrador? No, German Shepherd.
Grace hesitated for a moment, like she was trying to decide her course of action carefully.
“Maybe you still can,” Grace suggested softly.
Ainsley’s head snapped up.
“What?”
“Tarker’s Hollow is unusual even when there isn’t a full moon. But I shouldn’t really discuss it when I’m on duty. Let’s just say I might know of a way you can ask your parents a few of those questions.”
“Unless you can bring back the dead, I don’t see how that’s possible.”
Grace was silent.
“Grace, You can’t mean…”
“No. I can’t bring back the dead. But sometimes I can open a line of communication.”
Ainsley couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t show her disbelief. Who would think that Grace Kwan-Cortez would turn out to be a flake?
Grace must have caught the look in her old friend’s eyes.
“Ainsley, you turn into a giant wolf once a month. Are you really in a position to look at me like I’m on the cover of the National Enquirer?”