“All right, Kaitlin. I’ll go. Things will work out. You’ll see.”
Promises, little wolf, from what you believe to be a freak of nature, Michael silently added, scanning her profile.
“Werewolves tend to land on our feet, you know,” he said aloud.
“Yeah,” she agreed in a strangled voice, and with a last stab at defiance. “All four.”
Chapter 5
Remember that I gave you a choice.
Michael’s words from that night floated through Kaitlin’s memory as she looked into the emerald-colored eyes of the man who had uttered them.
Contrary to what he’d just said, Michael hadn’t made any effort to leave her apartment. Looking at him, she realized Michael wasn’t just handsome, he was extraordinary. Tall, leanly muscled and much too male, he wore a blue long-sleeved T-shirt and faded jeans that fit him like a second skin.
His face was as chiseled as her memory of his abs, and the angularity served up a regal air. Dark hair hung to his chin, straight, shiny, with the slightly mussed look of a man who didn’t give a hoot about his appearance.
But his looks were deceiving, because Michael wasn’t human, even though he appeared to be at the moment. Something much wilder hid beneath his skin, waiting to get out. She sensed that wildness as if she could taste it.
She had witnessed his shape-shifting firsthand. That wasn’t what bothered her at the moment, though. The awful part was the realization that whether or not Michael was a wolf, she was attracted to him. She wanted him in blistering hot, slightly demented ways. Closeness was what she craved…for both Michael and what he kept hidden inside.
Maybe what he’d done to her had caused these feelings. Maybe she was just grateful to him and that was showing up in inappropriate ways. If Michael had turned out to be an emissary from heaven, she would surely have gone to hell for what she wanted to do to him right then and there.
So, it was now official. She might not have died this weekend, but she had gone completely insane.
When Michael moved, Kaitlin wondered if he had felt her attraction to him. Instead of turning for the door, he transferred the paper bag he’d brought from the table to the bedsheets that no longer covered her up.
“You need to eat, Kate.”
His voice was hushed, sexy as heck and full of unacknowledged emotion. He’d used the nickname her family used, and made it seem intimate. Beneath his keen green-eyed observation, Kaitlin felt exposed in her old T-shirt, and she was short of breath. The thin, worn fabric covering her was the only thing standing between them, and as a barrier it was a joke.
When Michael’s gaze landed on her throat, her neck throbbed mercilessly, as if the injury somehow recognized its savior. Her body lost some of its chill and the room began to spin when his eyes bored into hers in a replay of their connection the night she had nearly died. With that gaze, she remembered the dark fur of the animal he had become.
Needing to think and to decide what to do next, she looked away. She didn’t dare show him how badly she wanted him, or how conflicted she was about feelings that weren’t in any way normal reactions to the events preceding this moment.
“Kate. Kaitlin.”
He whispered to her in a sensuous, velvety tone—the voice of a wolf prince walking upright on two legs. Lycan. Werewolf. Wolf. She had to look at him. She felt compelled to do as he asked.
His expression was set and sober. His wolfish eyes gleamed. Oh, yes, she wanted him, all right. She could argue all she wanted to, and pass this off as a trip to Neverland, but she couldn’t lie about her connection to Michael. As absurd as it seemed, with just one kiss at death’s door, he had bound her soul to his.
No dream. No dream at all.
“Kaitlin,” he said again.
“If I won’t be human anymore, what about my family?” she asked.
“You won’t lose them. They don’t even really have to know for a while,” Michael replied.
“You don’t have any idea what they’re like, or how close we are.”
“We can deal with that later. First, let’s tend to you.”
What did he see in her? Why had he chosen her to save? She wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, or even close. She didn’t stand out in a crowd, dress for success or anyone’s approval. In fact, she had always tried to blend in.
Her body was lean and athletic, like a runner’s, without accentuated curves and bulging breasts. She had never worn lipstick. Kaitlin Mary Davies was five foot five, and sprang from delicate-boned Irish stock.
She was the eldest of the two Davies siblings and had been taught to question, to test and never to outright rebel. She had been encouraged to stand on her own two feet, as long as she stood on them in relatively close proximity to her family and her home. And though she had come close on a few occasions, she had never actually slept with a man.
“My father is a judge. Mom is a homemaker.” She spoke in a rush. “There are no black sheep in the closet that I know of. It’s a sure bet there are no anomalies in my family tree.”
Michael let her go on.
“Not only am I getting a PhD in history, you’re saying that I’ve been awarded a degree in animal, and that I now have wolf in my Irish veins. I will be that Davies family anomaly.”
Deal, Kaitlin. You have to deal. Slow down. Take this in.
Had he said that to her? His lips hadn’t moved and yet she heard those directions as clearly as if he had spoken. Was part of Michael in her mind as well as in her veins?
“Does it hurt?” she asked. “Being a werewolf has to be no picnic. I’ve seen you shape-shift and it didn’t look like fun.”
He was using some kind of mesmerizing voodoo to pull her gaze back to his. The jolt of electricity sparking between them was immediate, and like a bolt of lightning stapling her to the bed.
“Yes. It hurts at first, while the body readjusts,” he replied. “Then you get used to it, and can look forward to the changes.”
She blinked slowly to absorb what Michael said, failing to counter that there was no alternative now, other than getting used to something like that, since the only other option had been taken away. Death.
No, not even death, since she would have come back as one of the undead if Michael hadn’t shown up.
“Well,” he said. “As much as I’d like to stay, you probably have class today. Go. Getting back into your routine will be good for you.”
Stunned by that suggestion, Kaitlin said, “Are you kidding? I go on as if nothing happened, and wait to see if anything will?”
“As much as you can, because that’s what life does. It goes on.”
“Are you a student?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I’m a carpenter.”
“What if I can’t act like life goes on? Where will I find you if I need help?” Her voice had grown noticeably quieter.
“Come to the park an hour before nightfall tonight. I’ll be there. That’s important, Kaitlin. Do you understand? It must be before dark.”
“The park? I—”
“You’ll be safe, I promise. You can bet that I keep my word.”
“Who will I find out there? Man or wolf?”
“Before nightfall, you’ll find me. I’ll be waiting. After nightfall, you’ll find more of your new self, and might not be ready.”
Her hands were shaking. Her face again felt cold. As much as she wanted Michael, she also wanted him gone. Yet the prospect of him leaving seemed daunting.
“If there’s no full moon?”
“Any moon phase can instigate small changes,” he said.
When Michael’s lips turned up at the corners, the moment became even more frightening. This was just another day in the life of a werewolf, while for her it was the end of life as she’d always known it.
Afraid to move, Kaitlin watched the thing she hoped for and dreaded all at the same time happen. Michael caught her chin so that she couldn’t look away. Then he swore beneath his breath as if trying one last time to fen
d off his feelings…before his mouth found hers.
The sensation of his slick lips sliding over hers wasn’t wholly unexpected. In that intimate act Kaitlin felt the wind in the trees and the dampness of grass beneath her toes. She felt moonlight on her face, and had a sudden urge to sprint through open spaces.
All in his kiss.
Not even a kiss, really. Merely a touch.
However, he soon changed that.
Adding pressure, Michael urged her lips to participate. His warm tongue met hers, sending Kaitlin spinning.
She strained for more of what he had to offer, yearning for a connection that would tame her fears. She grasped at life, seeking to understand what had happened to her, how this man had saved her with his blood and what would become of her now.
She struggled to comprehend the images she’d been shown and the future she would have to come to terms with if any of this could possibly be real.
It was all so damn freaky.
Thoughts fled as Michael’s talented mouth conquered hers in a way that left her mindless. His kiss became a deep, devouring act that demanded she respond in kind.
The kiss went on and on as though it might never end, and as if they’d never get enough of each other. Hunger sparked memory. This was what she recalled—Michael’s breath in her lungs and his mouth on hers, there at death’s door. This was what she needed now in order to get up and go on.
Michael…
As if sensing how desperately she demanded this connection, the pressure of Michael’s mouth lightened. His lips left hers to angle across her left cheek, drifting toward her neck in a downward trajectory of kisses. He paused near the band of her T-shirt, took hold of the cotton with both hands and crumpled the fabric in his fist.
He was so damn hot. The room was humid and stifling. Her body was quaking with a longing that had nothing to do with life-altering transitions…unless it was about becoming intimate with a man she really didn’t know.
This was body betrayal, big-time, with the hope that Michael would stay and finish what they had started. Maybe then she’d be able to rest. Possibly she’d get over this ridiculous crush if their bodies actually merged.
“Wait.”
The command was loud, though it had been whispered through her cracked lips.
God, had she said that?
Michael heeded that command. His head came up. When he looked into her eyes, Kaitlin detected defiance in his gaze, and knew he was scrambling for a hold on his own wayward needs. Still, he was going to do what she asked, no matter what that cost him.
“You’re right, of course.” His voice emerged as a growl.
She had to say something. “I owe you for saving my life.”
“But now isn’t the time to repay me, and I wouldn’t expect that kind of payment from you anyway, especially when you might not be happy with the way things turn out.”
He didn’t smile as he went on. “If I go now, you’ll settle down. Being near another wolf tends to bring out the wolf in you, and in me. I know that, and I thought…” He let that part dangle, and started again. “Your allure is strong, Kaitlin. I’ll admit that.”
Michael straightened up before she could reach for him. He leaned over her once more, with both hands on the bed beside her. Eyes closed, Kaitlin waited for his mouth to betray his words and for Michael to ignore her outburst in spite of what he’d just said.
There was to be no further touch.
She heard the click of a door and opened her eyes to find herself alone. Michael had left her with the tan paper bag.
Her own growl of distress rose in her throat as her stomach again turned over. Giving in to the rush of feeling she’d trapped in her core, Kaitlin tore into the paper bag as though it were made of tissue—ripping it apart, sending pieces of paper flying.
If she couldn’t have Michael, she’d at least have this.
She wolfed down the meal as if she hadn’t eaten in months instead of days, and with the gusto of someone who might never eat again.
Because you just never knew what could happen from one minute to the next.
Only somewhat satiated, Kaitlin glanced sideways, eyes bleary, startled by her reflection in the mirror. She was on her hands and knees on the bed, bare ass showing from beneath her T-shirt. Barbecue sauce was smeared all over her face and hands, making her look, to her complete dismay, very much the beast she might become.
Staring at that image, she started to cry.
Chapter 6
Sixty-four-thousand-dollar question: How do you cope with life on a Monday when you’ve almost died over the weekend?
Answer: You either curl up for days on end, or you have a go at what’s left.
In the end, Kaitlin had to remember that the Davies family was nothing if not flexible. But she feared that the day stretching ahead would seem like a blur, with life burning like an eternal question mark at the center. Colorless day, colorless surroundings. Heavy books, laptops and ongoing research. Meaningless chitchat. Typical postgraduate stuff.
Because she was no longer herself.
Or so Rena and Michael kept telling her.
Concentrating was difficult when there were monsters all around, and when a person’s eternal flame could be choked out so quickly. When this life do-over had turned out to be a doozy.
However bad things were, she was determined to try to cope. She would handle this, because there was no alternative.
Remaining optimistic proved to be tough, though. In the hallway, Kaitlin focused on avoiding others and keeping to the sidelines, not sure she could actually carry on a conversation or if the students she passed would know she was different. Was she different? She had only Michael’s and Rena’s word for that.
By the time she was halfway through the main university building, odd things were happening. Inexplicable things. Smells, scents and fragrances were suddenly overwhelming and more of an affront to her senses. Polish on the floors gave off a sweet, sticky odor. Scuff marks from black-soled shoes smelled like burned rubber. Paper stuck to bulletin boards made her eyes water.
Crowds of people huddled in the corners, amplifying the odors of damp clothes, hair gel, fabric dyes and perfume. Passing the cafeteria was a big mistake. Although she was hungry again, almost ravenous, the smell of overcooked pizza sickened her.
She wanted to escape, hide, get away, and didn’t know where to go or how to outdistance the waves of panic that stuck to her like shadows. She had to wait to see Michael again.
New self. Changes. Don’t go out after dark.
She chewed her fingernails in frustration and chose a secluded seat in the back of the library, though she was certain there was no way to work on her thesis. No one gave her a second glance or turned around to stare.
The tick of the wall clock drove her mad. Fighting every agonizingly slow minute, Kaitlin waded through the hours like a sinking swimmer, finding it harder and harder to breathe when beyond the library walls she could feel him. Michael. Somewhere close.
Thoughts of Michael made her muscles dance with anticipation. The leftover pressure of his talented mouth brought far too much heat. She looked up werewolves online on her laptop, shuddering as she read lines of a story labeled as myth. She grew more and more restless as the afternoon dragged on. Forgoing her work, she drew pictures of wolves on her notebook and tried to remember the shape of Michael’s eyes.
When the clock chimed five, she raced through crowds of students having a normal day, wondering how they could be so oblivious to events unfolding around them. Almost at the exit, she skidded to a stop near a bunch of people gathered outside a closed classroom door. Taped to that door was a note.
“Class canceled due to instructor illness.”
Her fear turned major. What if that missing teacher had also been some fanged monster’s prey?
Her legs began to shake uncontrollably.
Going to be sick. Need to get out.
Taking in ragged breaths of stale air, Kaitlin slumped agai
nst the wall with her head in her hands. After several long minutes she was able to again stand upright, and then only because there were answers to find and truths to sort out.
“Come hell or high water…” She reached for the neck of the sweater that hid what a stranger named Rena had called her “war wound” and finished the statement. “I’m going to find out what the hell is going on.”
*
Michael paced from tree to tree, sure Kaitlin would show up, though he wouldn’t have blamed her if she didn’t.
He hadn’t meant to kiss her. Hadn’t realized he was kissing her until she stopped him. Now she’d have the wrong impression of this meeting and what he wanted her to get out of it. She might assume this to be an invitation to a rendezvous. If so, she would be dead wrong.
Kissing wasn’t on his agenda.
Touching her was out of the question.
He set that firmly in his mind and stopped pacing twenty feet from the spot where Kaitlin had nearly lost her life, thinking that she would indeed have to be tough to return here so soon.
Making her confront her new direction in life was part of his plan and an important first step in helping her to face the truth. Hopefully, eventually, she would get past being afraid of the unknown.
For the time being, she needed guidance. After tonight, he was determined to turn her over to Rena. Females were so much better than males at dealing with personal issues, whatever species they belonged to. Some kind of innate nurturing thing had been twisted into female DNA.
That’s what he told himself, anyway.
Rena wasn’t exactly softhearted, but she would step up to the plate if he asked her to. He knew Rena harbored a lust for him that the she-wolf never fully kept hidden, but he considered Rena family. She wasn’t the new rusty-haired human-wolf hybrid that his wolf craved in some strange and inexplicable way.
Rena was intuitive. She would see this. Although Rena wouldn’t think much of what he’d done to save Kaitlin, the she-wolf would never purposefully harm anyone who didn’t deserve it.
So. Hell. Why had he done what he had done, exactly? Why had he helped a human being? Chance? Coincidence? Serendipity?
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