“Do you want to get an infection?”
By the time he was finished patching me up, I’d broken out in a sweat from the pain.
“You should get that checked out tomorrow.”
“Look, I hate doctors and I hate hospitals. You’re a professional, doesn’t that count?”
He sighed and tossed his coat on the back of one of the chairs. “Do you want something for pain?”
John is about five inches taller than me, but when I rose I did my best to glower at him. “You are not going outside to your truck.”
“Remember when I sprained my ankle really bad a few months ago? I didn’t finish my prescription. I’ve got some meds that might help. How much do you hurt?”
“A lot, but not enough to risk your life. Look at what this thing did unintentionally. What could it do on purpose?”
“So, you admit it was a thing.”
“It might be a thing.”
“Freya!”
“It could have easily been a psycho with a knife.”
“A big hairy psycho with a knife?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm.
I shrugged and it hurt my shoulder. “I didn’t see hair.” I paused, remembering the man that jumped out in front of us. “But those eyes. What was up with that guy’s eyes? They glowed.”
John crossed his arms and propped against the kitchen counter. “You saw a man with glowing eyes, yet question me about a big hairy creature?”
“I’m not saying that you didn’t see a creature. I’m saying that I only saw a dark shape.” I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “Do you work tomorrow?” I asked.
“Yeah, I pulled the Saturday shift. Why?”
“Can you still get to work on time if you spend the night here?”
“Sure.”
I took a step toward John and put my hand on his arm. “I don’t know what is out there, but it cut me, and you think it could be some kind of animal. I can’t let you go to your truck. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.”
John smiled and hugged me gently, avoiding my shoulder. We’d met at school, when we were both ten years old. After fifteen years of friendship, John was family.
“I love you too, Freya. That’s why I am insisting that you see a doctor tomorrow, as soon as the sun comes up.”
“Fine. I’ll go to Dr. Wilson, he’s open on the weekends.”
“You promise?”
“Yes. As soon as his office opens.”
I have a spare bedroom, but John ended up falling asleep on the couch. I took some ibuprofen and tried not to worry. Believe it or not, I fell asleep pretty quickly, but I wouldn’t exactly say that I rested. My mind was filled with crazy images. Some of it made no sense at all.
I dreamed that I got up to check on John, but instead of going toward the living room where he was, I went down the hall. I remember seeing my hand opening the back door, only it wasn’t my hand. Instead of my neat manicure, this hand had claws about an inch long.
The next thing I knew, I was running through the woods. The night air was cold against my skin and I loved it. It was the most exhilarating dream I’d ever had. With the wind in my hair and the moonlight streaming down, I felt free. I dove toward the ground, almost like a swimmer diving into a pool. When my hands/claws hit the ground, it felt natural, like it was completely normal to run on all-fours.
Next, as if I hadn’t had a strange enough night, that man showed up my dream, the gorgeous one with long black hair and golden eyes. I came to a stop in front of him and when I stood, realized I was naked. Have you ever had those dreams where you’re in a mall or somewhere else public and suddenly you’re naked? This was nothing like that. There was no shock, no, “OMG! I’m naked!” I felt no shame whatsoever. I just stood there, as if every inch of my small frame was a gift from God to be displayed with pride.
Normally, when a hot guy shows up in my dreams, we get it on. That’s just the way it is. But tall, dark, and delicious didn’t even seem to notice I was naked. All I could do was stare, and wish he was the one without clothes. He was dressed all in black, but the moon provided enough light to get a really good look at him. His jeans molded to his every curve, revealing well-toned thighs, and a package I could not stop looking at. I wondered what was wrong with me, but still, I felt no shame. I took a step closer and reached out to touch his face. There was a light stubble on his cheeks, as if he hadn’t shaved for a day. I loved the way it felt beneath my fingertips.
His eyes were so beautiful. Only a few moments had passed, but I could have looked into those glowing golden eyes all night. I took a deep breath and wondered what cologne he was wearing. It was at once new and yet familiar. I couldn’t get enough of it, and continued to breathe deeply.
Even though it was my dream, and I generally get what I want in my dreams, he didn’t seem to be attracted to me. He looked at me like he was about to apologize for something.
“It’s as I feared,” he said.
Wow. His voice was sexy. It was dark and rough, like the stubble on his handsome face.
“You were afraid of seeing a naked woman, running through the woods at night?” I laughed. “That’s a pretty specific fear.”
“No,” he said gently. He reached for my hand and held it up to the moonlight, showing me the claws. “I was afraid of this.”
“A bad manicure?”
Ha. I’m so witty in my dreams. I’d never mock him for real, not when he looked so upset. He moved even closer, so that the fronts of our bodies nearly touched. He leaned in as if to kiss me, but instead he pressed his nose against my hairline. He breathed deeply, and gently rubbed his face against mine.
“What is your name?” he asked.
“Freya.”
“I will find you, Freya, and I will explain.”
“You can’t explain now?”
His smile was bittersweet. “I have already stopped here for too long. I don’t want to lose his scent.”
“Whose scent?”
“The werewolf that scratched you.”
Chapter Two
I woke with a start. I was in my bed, but out of breath as if I’d been running. I glanced at the clock. It was just after 7 a.m., so John was probably already gone. It was thoughtful of him to not wake me, although I could have done without the last bit of that crazy dream.
“Werewolf,” I said, shaking my head.
I sat up, flinging back the covers as I swung my feet over the side of the bed. For a moment I just sat there, staring at my dirty feet.
“What the fuck?”
I looked back and saw my white sheets were covered with dirt and pieces of leaves.
“What the fuck?” I said, a little more urgently.
By this time, my pulse was racing and I felt dizzy. I ran into the bathroom, stopping in front of the mirror.
“I’m naked,” I gasped. “This isn’t happening.”
I gently peeled the bandage from my shoulder and to my horror saw that my wound was nearly healed.
“This can’t be happening.”
My breath quickened and I realized I was having a panic attack. Sitting on the closed toilet lid, I curled up with my head against my knees, and did my best to breathe slowly.
“Think about this,” I said. Whenever I was afraid or had an important decision to make, reasoning out loud often helped. “Werewolves are real, you already knew that, so let’s think this through.”
Werewolves went public a few years ago. Though I’d never actually met one, I knew they did in fact exist. That in itself was not new knowledge, but that didn’t make my freak out any less severe.
After werewolves came out of the closet, I read every article I could find about lycanthropy. I’d always had an interest in folklore, so I was fascinated. I also worked in a bookstore/coffee shop, so it was easy to get my hands on lots of information.
One thing I knew for certain, “You can’t be turned by a scratch,” I said, still talking to myself. “You have to come in contact
with blood or saliva while the werewolf is in its wolf form.”
The more I talked to myself, the better I felt.
“That had to be a dream. This is just John’s paranoia affecting my subconscious.”
Then I remembered the dirt in my bed and my panic attack resumed. After several minutes, I was able to slow my breathing and tried to figure out my next move.
“Okay, if this is real and I am becoming a werewolf, how do I know that for sure?”
Wounds did not magically heal overnight, and in that dream – no, it wasn’t a dream – I’d had claws.
“Damn. I told John I would go to the doctor. I can’t go now.” I looked at my shoulder again. “It’s barely a scratch anymore.”
I felt almost normal. My skin was warm to the touch, like I was running a fever, but I didn’t feel sick. I stood up and looked in the mirror again. My eyes were just as green as always, and I didn’t appear to be growing any extra hair. My nails were also back to normal, but they had dirt underneath them. I wasn’t scheduled to work again until Tuesday, but maybe I could go in and look for a book that would help me. It was at least a place to start.
After tossing my sheets in the washing machine, I took a long hot shower, and finally put on some clothes. I love fall, it gives me an excuse to wear jeans and comfy sweaters. Having a purpose made me feel less anxious. Looking up books and processing information was something I was good at and could focus my attention on.
When I went into the kitchen I saw a note taped to the fridge. “I parked the buggy under the barn. The key is on the table beside the door. You better go to the doctor like you promised. Love, John.”
“Well, shit.”
It was nice of him to put up the dune buggy for me, but what the hell was I going to tell him about the doctor?
When I stepped out the back door it was like an assault to my senses. The fresh clean air had always smelled good this time of year, when the humidity is so much lower. But I smelled everything. Burning leaves, dirt, grass, animals in the nearby woods. But most prominent was the smell of my neighbor baking an apple pie. That might not be so alarming if my closest neighbor wasn’t three miles away.
“Holy shit, what am I going to do?”
As soon as I pulled up in front of the bookstore I wondered if it was even safe for me to be in public. I didn’t feel dangerous. Sure, I could hear everything the people sitting out front were talking about, but that wasn’t dangerous, was it?
“So, have you ever watched nun porn?” one guy asked his friend.
Okay, not dangerous, but weird.
There were two men sitting among this crowd working on their laptops and sipping coffee. I had always loved coffee, but now the smell was nearly overpowering. As I entered the bookstore and breathed in the smells of baking cookies and coffee, I nearly threw up. Not because I didn’t enjoy the fragrance, but because I was suddenly ravenously hungry.
“Cool contacts,” a man said as he walked past me.
Contacts? What the hell was he talking about? I slipped into the bathroom without anyone I worked with noticing me, looked in the mirror, and nearly had a heart attack.
My eyes were glowing amber! They looked just like what’s-his-face that I saw in the woods. I decided that being in public was probably not the best choice for me. Before anyone could walk in and see my glowing eyes, I pulled some sunglasses out of my purse.
I had just stepped out of the bathroom when someone slammed me into the wall. The tall, hard body of a man was holding me in place.
“There you are,” he said, a trace of growl in his voice.
He had short blond hair, chiseled features, and a wicked smile.
“Do I know you?” I asked. I figured that being a werewolf would make me extra strong, but when I tried to shove this guy back, he didn’t budge.
“Maybe this will jog your memory.”
His eyes flashed amber and I gasped.
“Who the fuck are you?” Because I knew he wasn’t the man I’d seen last night.
His wicked grin returned. “I’m the one you met on the road.”
“No, you’re not, I saw him up close.”
“I’m the other one,” he said coldly.
A chill ran through me as I tried to push him off of me again.
“I’ll scream.”
“And ruin your secret?” he taunted. “I know why you’re wearing those glasses, and it’s not a fashion statement. You’re beginning to turn.”
“Why did you do this to me?”
He took a step back. “You really don’t remember me?”
“I remember my friend seeing a big hairy creature in the road, and I remember the gash on my arm that is barely a scratch now.” To my surprise, the more I talked, the more growl came through in my voice.
“I come here all the time and have coffee. I’ve been watching you.”
“Do you even realize how fucking creepy that sounds? Get away from me.”
I tried to walk past him and he grabbed my arm.
“Let me go,” I roared. My claws came out and without hesitation I slashed his arm.
Thank God the bathrooms are down a short hallway out of sight and no one saw this. The wolfman just laughed and licked the wounds on his forearm. I watched as they healed completely in a matter of seconds.
“It looks like I’ve chosen well.”
I didn’t wait to hear what else he had to say. I kept my head down (hoping no one I knew would see me) and walked outside. I couldn’t believe my good luck at escaping unseen. I hurried to my car and nearly ran down one of my friends, Peter.
“Hey, Freya. What’s the rush? Are you working today?”
“Um, no. I just came by to pick up a few books, but I’m not feeling so good,” I said, speaking quickly. “I’ll see you on Tuesday. You work the morning shift with me, right?”
“Yeah,” he said, looking at me strangely. “You’re okay though, right? You look a little pale.”
“Yeah, it’s a stomach thing.”
He took a step back. “See you Tuesday.”
My hands were shaking, but I couldn’t afford to wait around in the parking lot. That lunatic might already be on his way to my car.
“Leave it to me to attract a werewolf stalker,” I said as I sped out of the parking lot.
I looked in my rearview mirror. When I didn’t see him in the parking lot, I sighed with relief.
My stomach churned so forcefully that I nearly had to pull off the road to be sick. I was starving.
I pulled in at the nearest fast food restaurant and instead of my usual turkey burger or light salad, I ordered three double cheese burgers. I was craving meat. Lots and lots of meat. I had barely pulled back onto the road when I tore into the first burger. By the time I pulled up at my house I had finished all three burgers and was licking the wrappers to get every bit of cheese. To make matters worse, I looked up to see him standing on my doorstep. Not the creepy one, the other guy with glowing eyes. His eyes weren’t glowing now though. They were dark, warm, and welcoming. I had to at least learn these guy’s names, not that I planned on seeing the creepy one again. Seriously though, I couldn’t keep calling them the creepy one and the sexy one.
I put down the wrapper and wiped my mouth on a napkin. I got out of the car with as much dignity as I could muster after being seen rubbing my face all up in a burger wrapper as if I hadn’t eaten in a week.
“It took me a while to pick up your scent again,” he said. “Where have you been?”
“Yeah, because tracking someone by scent is normal. Why don’t we start with your name? Who the hell are you and what is going on?”
“My name is Dorian, and I think you’ve figured some of it out already. I can smell him on you, even from over here.”
“And who the hell is he?”
“His name is Hank.”
“You’ve got to be joking. I’ve been scratched by the big bad Hank?” I shook my head as I walked toward the door. “I’ll let you in on one condition,
you explain everything to me.”
“All right,” he said moving closer.
Damn he smelled good.
“I’m serious. Everything.”
“Open the door, Freya.” His tone was gentle, but he was clearly giving me a command. I didn’t mind. For some reason I felt save with him. That made no sense whatsoever.
He followed me through the back door into the kitchen. While I started to make some coffee he asked, “So, where did you go?”
“To Books, Books, and More Books. I work there.”
“What were your plans when you left your house? Go read a book and have a latte? Do you have any idea what is happening to you?”
His tone pissed me off. As I rounded on him, I took off my sunglasses. Considering how my eyes burned, I was guessing they were still amber.
“I’ve got some idea, yes,” I snapped. “I’m becoming a werewolf and no one will explain to me why or what the fuck I stepped into. Who is that big blond guy, and why the hell did he do this to me?!”
“I told you, his name is Hank.”
“I’m not asking you about his name. I mean who is he? What does he do? Why would he attack me?”
Dorian propped against the counter beside where I was standing and crossed his arms.
“Did Hank say anything to you? Was he at the bookstore?’
“Yes, he was at the bookstore. He didn’t say a hell of a lot, except he’d been watching me for a while, and he had chosen wisely. I’m guessing that means this prick turned me on purpose?”
Dorian ran a hand through his long dark hair and sighed. “Shit,” he said.
“Well, that’s a very comforting reaction,” I drawled.
“I suppose I should just start talking. If you’ve got any questions, feel free to interrupt.”
“Well, I’ve got one question right now. Why did I turn from just a scratch? I’ve always been told that you have to encounter blood or saliva from a werewolf in their wolf form.”
Dorian nodded. “So, you’re not unfamiliar with the subject of our kind?”
“I’ve read a lot about it, but that really didn’t prepare me for this.”
“Normally, you are correct. The fact that you did turn from the scratch, and what Hank said to you today has confirmed two things. One, he must have had his own blood on his claws when he scratched you. And yes, I’m guessing that was on purpose.”
Taming the Alpha Page 98