She looked up at him. “Why is it every time we’re intimate, you have something important to tell me?”
His hand slid to her waist. “Promise me you won’t be angry, and promise me you’ll let me explain before you take my head off.”
“I’m not promising any of those things.” She stopped and turned to face him. “What’s going on?”
He took a deep breath, and his expression went flat. He scanned the street over her shoulder, then pulled her behind him.
“Veronica, I want you to go inside and lock yourself in the bathroom.”
She tried to look around his shoulder, but he was too large. “What?”
“Just. Go.” He pushed her, and when she backed away, she saw something in the gap between Logan’s arm and his body.
A mountain of auburn fur and snarling teeth was walking right toward them. Its back was hunched, its ears flat, and its gums were lifted to reveal a set of teeth dripping with saliva.
She gasped and backed away, though she couldn’t get her brain to tell her feet to run.
The wolf was the most hideous thing she’d ever seen. Was this her stalker? The one who’d let himself into her house and, in all likelihood, watched her while she slept? Was his plan to meet her at this wedding all along? She could kill him right now…if she wasn’t afraid for her life.
“Logan, come with me,” she whispered as the wolf stalked closer. “Let’s go inside and get help.”
“I can’t. The wolf can smell you on me. He knows what just happened and he’s challenging me for you. If I leave, it means I admit that he’s the stronger wolf, and he’s won.”
“What?” She shrieked and tugged on Logan’s arm. “How the hell do you know what he’s doing or what it means?”
He craned his neck around to stare at her. His eyes had darkened from liquid silver to burnt charcoal. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you. But now, you need to run.”
“Should’ve told me what? Logan, what’s happening to your—”
Right before her eyes, Logan shifted. His back hunched until he ripped the seam of his tux down the center. He got bigger, stronger. He dropped to all fours, his head gnashing from one side to the other as the shift took full effect. She backed away, slowly.
This can’t be happening. Can’t. Be. Happening.
Logan’s tuxedo fell to the ground in shreds, and long strands of fur blanketed his body. His back rounded and lengthened, and his neck bulked up. He was massive. If she’d ever seen a wolf that could kill someone with a single snap of its jaws, Logan was it.
What was she saying? She’d just had sex with a wolf! Her sister had lied to her! Holy hell, she was going to pass out. Air wheezed from her lungs as her back hit the door of the hotel. She’d trusted Logan to watch over her, to protect her from one of his own kind. Oh, God. She’d been so stupid. She couldn’t trust him. He’d been playing her for a fool!
The ginger wolf lurked closer, his gums pulling back the closer he got to Logan.
On some instinct she’d never had before, Veronica stepped forward. “No, don’t—” But she couldn’t finish. What was she going to say anyway? Don’t hurt him?
Logan peered over his shoulder and his gums dropped to cover his fangs. His eyes were deep gray, his snout fuzzy and wide. He almost looked…exactly like the Logan she knew from before.
She screamed as the wolf with the auburn hair hurled himself at Logan. He struck with his paw, slicing for Logan’s neck as he came down on top of him. Logan bounded out of the way at the last instant, charging around a tight circle to get a bead on the other wolf. The fight spilled into the street.
Where was the security team? Wasn’t there anyone who could call the police? This guy was crazy and he’d just attacked them out of nowhere.
Wolf, she corrected, her legs giving out as her back hit the door. This wolf was crazy.
She couldn’t just stand there. She had to do something. Her body ached to propel into action, to save Logan, even though he didn’t look like he needed any help.
She scanned the street. Cars passed by two streets over, but the hotel was on a quiet cul-de-sac, hidden from plain view. “Help!” she shouted. “Somebody help us!”
Howls echoed from all around them. Down the street. Behind the hotel. The sound resembled a siren, a warning. Logan and her stalker continued to fight. Clawing and scraping at each other’s noses. Biting into each other’s neck and side.
A glint of light shone from the ground, catching her eye: three empty wine bottles had been tucked behind the concrete planter box that flanked the front door. Without thinking, she chucked one at the ginger-haired wolf. It hit true, right to the wolf’s side. He didn’t seem to feel a thing. She gripped the necks of the other two bottles, raised them over her head and chucked them as hard as she could. One hit the amber-haired wolf, and the other hit Logan square in the nose. He howled, and twisted his neck around to glare at her.
She shrugged, hands empty. “Hey, I’m trying to help!”
More howls. This time, closer.
Shaking off the blow, Logan sprang off the ground and chomped at the auburn-haired wolf’s neck. Logan moved with such lightning-quick speed, the other wolf had little time to react. He tried to dodge the assault, but Logan’s mouth was too large and he was moving too quickly. The auburn wolf didn’t stand a chance.
It all happened so fast.
Logan latched onto the auburn-haired wolf’s neck and shook. Blood splattered everywhere, spilling into the street and pooling in the gutter. The wolf howled and kicked his back legs, fighting to slip free from Logan’s killer grip. They edged closer to Veronica, but she was frozen in fear. Forcing her legs to move, she made a clumsy attempt at a sprint around the planter box. The wolf bounded off the ground and rammed into Veronica’s side. She lost her balance and slammed into the wall. Her head snapped back, hitting the brick and causing lights to dance in front of her eyes.
Chest tight, Veronica couldn’t catch her breath. She put her hand over her breast and tried to calm her racing heart, but it pounded anyway, right against her hand. Her head swam, and her vision fuzzed. Focus on the fight in the street. Just focus. Little by little, the auburn-haired wolf worked his way free. He bolted the second he dropped from Logan’s jaws. Logan chased after the wolf and disappeared around the corner.
She was going to pass out. Right here in the street where everybody…
The darkness won.
…
Logan drove hard and fast. He thanked the makers of Lexus for putting a 5.0-liter eight-speed in this car—it could really get up and go when you put some heat to it, and he wanted to get out of Everett as fast as he could.
Veronica started to rouse, so Logan turned down the radio. “It’s going be all right,” he said, tugging her coat up her slumbering body. “It’s all over now.”
He didn’t want to tell her that it wasn’t really over, but he couldn’t bear to say the words yet. Soon, when she was ready, he’d have to tell her that the auburn-haired wolf had disappeared into an alley. The canine had been smaller than Logan, which meant he’d been more agile. He must’ve bounded over a fence and gone quiet. Logan couldn’t find him, not even with his heightened sense of smell. It had struck Logan as odd, until he realized that he’d just had sex with Veronica and her scent was still all over him, clouding his other senses.
“I was blind. So fucking blind,” Logan muttered to himself. He shook his head and tunneled his fingers through his hair. “Damn it, he should’ve been mine. He was right in my hands…toying with me.”
As long as the coward kept using the postal service to relay his messages, there was little Logan could do to track him down. There was never a return address and the envelopes smelled clean, besides the traces of hand sanitizer from the mailman’s hands and a hint of glue. He should’ve been trying harder. Been more alert. Stayed up all night to see if her home was being watched. He should’ve slept with her, alongside her, so that she’d never be alone, not for a single seco
nd. He should’ve…he could’ve.
There was too much, and he’d done too little. The stalker had come too close.
Exiting the freeway thirty minutes later, Logan drove quickly through the neighborhood, watching for signs of being followed. There was no one there, nothing out of the ordinary. He pulled into the alley behind his house, pressed the garage door opener, and drove inside. After the stalker had let himself into Veronica’s house and invaded her personal space, there was no way Logan was taking her back there. Besides, he had a better chance at protecting her on his turf.
She was going to have a ton of questions when she woke up. What happened at the wedding? Why didn’t he tell her that he was a werewolf? Why did her sister and Jake keep the truth from her, too? (They’d have to answer for themselves on that one.)
Logan lifted Veronica from the car and carried her inside. Clamoring to get through the door, Fang barked and jumped. Logan kneed him gently, urging him down, as he walked Veronica into his bedroom.
“Don’t be mad that I brought you here,” he said, lying her down on his bed. She wasn’t awake and couldn’t hear him, but talking calmed him down. He covered her with the sheet and drew the curtains closed. “At least give me the chance to explain.”
He knelt beside the bed and took her hand. She was so soft and delicate. The Big Guy upstairs must’ve been laughing his ass off when he decided Veronica should be Logan’s Luminary—his soul mate and fated lover. Even if Logan wanted to be with Veronica for the next thousand years, she was human and would have to be bitten by a werewolf in two different pulse points to become a turned wolf and join their pack.
Born werewolves, like Logan and the majority of his packmates, shifted at whim, usually when they got angry. Turned wolves, however, shifted at the full moon. They were different, yet shared the same traits. Two wolves from different breeds. If Veronica was bitten and turned, like what happened to her sister, Logan and Veronica could be together and she could be accepted into the Seattle Wolf Pack.
But he was getting ahead of himself, wasn’t he? Veronica hated wolves. She wouldn’t want to be with him.
In her eyes, he was a monster. She’d already said as much.
“I promise to tell you everything.” He lowered his head to her hand, touching his forehead to her knuckles. “I think I can handle it if you decide to walk away at the end of all this,” he whispered. “All I ask is that you don’t hate me.”
Chapter Thirteen
Dog breath. There was a seriously bad, gagging amount of dog breath fanning over her face.
Peeling her eyes open, Veronica shrieked and jerked away from the golden retriever staring at her from the edge of the bed. The dog’s disgusting tongue was lolling out of its mouth, hanging mere inches over the mattress. Its breath was rancid. As if it’d been eating dead fish and took second helpings.
“Go!” Veronica cringed. “Shoo!”
The dog clamped its mouth shut and made a cute little meeping noise. Kinking its head to the side, staring at her with sweet brown eyes.
“Okay, so you’re kinda cute,” she said. “But you’re drooling. Go!”
She fanned it away and shrank deeper into the bed. It barked, and Veronica covered her now-busted eardrums.
Wait…
Logan’s dog. Logan’s…bed?
Clutching the covers to her chest, Veronica glanced around, half expecting to see leashes, dog bones, and rubbery chew toys lying around. Okay, so she’d hadn’t ever seen a werewolf with any of those things, but she hadn’t seen someone in wolf form before last night, so who knew what they enjoyed in the privacy of their own homes?
She was pleasantly surprised to find none of those things. The king-size bed was in the center of the room, and two dressers flanked an open door that led to a bathroom with an oversized mirror hanging above a single sink. The walls were painted a cool shade of gray, and a black-and-white picture of Seattle’s skyline hung over the bed in a chunky black frame. It was surprisingly…nice.
“Veronica?” Logan knocked on the door and started opening before she answered. “I’m coming in.”
She sat up quickly, her dress from the wedding catching on her backside. She yanked it up and checked her neckline as Logan pushed the door open wide.
“What am I doing here?” she asked. “What happened after…?”
She couldn’t finish. God, she couldn’t even say what she really wanted to say. What if she made him angry? Would he lose control and turn into a werewolf? She was in his house, on his territory. She needed out.
Logan leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms over his chest. “It kills me to say it, but he got away.”
“So he’s still out there.” She brushed her hands up and down her arms.
“Not for long. I swear to you I’ll find him.”
He’d use his super wolfie senses, no doubt about it.
“It sucks that he got away, but I shouldn’t be here.” The dog whimpered and licked for her hand. Its tongue caught the edge of her pinky and slimed her up. She swiped her hand across the sheet. “Could you take him out?”
“Fang?”
The dog turned around.
“Outside.” Logan patted his leg one time. The dog flew past him. Deep in the house, a dog door flapped opened and closed.
“Your dog’s name is Fang?”
“What would you have named him? Old Yeller?”
Aww. She’d cried her eyes out when that poor dog was put down. Now that Logan mentioned it, his dog did resemble the one from the film. “Can you speak canine? Is that why he listens so well to you?”
“No.” Logan smirked. “Dogs bark, werewolves howl. Two different languages. He listens because I paid a shit-ton of money to take him to dog training classes. He finished top in his class.”
She didn’t have time for this, but she had to tread carefully. “Listen, that’s great and all, but why did you bring me here?”
“You passed out.”
“I live across the street.” She squelched the anger rising in her belly. She needed to keep calm, so that he would keep calm. “Why didn’t you take me home and put me in my own bed?”
“I wanted to be able to watch over you,” he said simply. “Believe it or not, I care about your safety.”
“Believe it or not,” she mimicked.
“I made you a reservation at Hotel Monaco in the Financial District.”
“Fancy.”
“It’s under my name,” he said, “so if anyone calls to see if you’ve checked in, your name won’t pop up. They already have my card on file. All you have to do is show them your ID and request a key.”
“You’re not paying for my room.” Veronica popped out of bed, dragging the sheets with her. She kicked them aside and brushed past him. “I need to get out of here so I can think straight.”
“So that’s it?” he said, following her out the front door. “You’re not going to say anything?”
“What’s there to say?” As Veronica walked across his lawn, Fang started barking from somewhere behind his house. “You’re clearly a…dog person. And I’m clearly not. That’s all there is to it.”
Glad to be putting space between them, Veronica marched across the street, spotted her car parked in her driveway, and stopped. “Where’s my stuff? My purse, keys?” She whirled around and found him right behind her. “What happened to the Sanchez wedding? I wasn’t there to close everything down and to—”
His hands found her shoulders. “I took care of everything. Heather and Susan broke everything down and made sure the hall was cleaned up before they left. I checked in with Susan about an hour ago. The bride and groom had no idea what went down outside. Susan said things are good.”
She shrugged away from his touch, from the warmth it gave. She remembered Desperately Seeking Susan Reinhart and her overenthusiastic interest in Logan. “Of course they’re good. If you’re asking Susan anything, the answer is going to be sunshine and rainbows.” Another flare of anger hit her hard
. “She’s just your type. You should call her. I’m sure you saved her number in your phone. You might even luck out—I bet she likes rugged wolf men who are in desperate need of a shave.”
“What are you talking about?” His brow puzzled. “Why would I call her and—wait, what makes you think you know my type at all?”
Closing her eyes so she’d stop staring at him didn’t work. She only pictured him in the elevator instead. She’d gotten freaky with a werewolf. A werewolf! What the hell was happening? She needed to talk to her sister.
“I guess I don’t, Logan. Where are my keys?”
He dug around in his pocket and came out with them. “Are you jealous?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She reached out for them but he jerked his arm back so the keys were out of reach. “Give ’em to me.”
“Why are you so worried about Susan and her number being logged in to my phone?”
“I’ve got a stalker out there somewhere who’s probably really irked that I threw a wine bottle at him last night.” She reached for the keys and was denied. Again. “I’m not worried about Susan.”
“It’s not, by the way,” he said.
“I don’t care about you or Susan or whatever you decide to do together.” She put her hands on her hips. Being out in the open, where anyone could see if he got angry, shifted, and tried to hurt her, gave Veronica a surge of boldness. “Give me the keys, or I give you a nut shot. How’s that for caring?”
“Your things are on the couch.” He dropped the keys into her hand.
When she was finally alone in the safety of her own house, Veronica realized this was the last place she wanted to be.
As soon as she wrapped her mind around what just happened, she’d pack a bag, head to Hotel Monaco, and insist they charge the room to her credit card. Damn Logan and his pushiness.
Damn him.
Flattening her back to the door, Veronica slid slowly to the hardwood. She put her elbows on her knees and let her tears fall.
Four Weddings and a Werewolf (Entangled Covet) Page 10