Wolf Kiss (Warrior Wolves Book 1)

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Wolf Kiss (Warrior Wolves Book 1) Page 17

by Christine DePetrillo


  “You have to wait until the next movie to see him turn into a wolf though.” She pointed to the boy. “They did a pretty good job with the wolves, special effects-wise. At least I think so. Don’t ask Parker though. He’ll completely disagree and make fun of this entire series.” She let out a small laugh. “He’s probably right to make fun. Someone my age shouldn’t find these movies entertaining, but I can’t help myself. In fact…”

  She wiggled herself out of the bean bag chair and jogged out of the room. When she returned, she had her laptop with her.

  “I want to show you something.” She opened the laptop and lowered back into the bean bag chair, shifting around until she was comfortable. After tapping the keyboard for a few moments, she turned the screen toward him. “So, I’ve been collecting information on clinical lycanthropy for years. Silly, right?” She waved her hand. “Well, I don’t care if it is silly. It’s my secret hobby. No one knows except you, Alator, and you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

  As she petted him and scrolled through the information, Reardon skimmed the text on the screen. Words like shifting humans, metamorphosis, transition, and canine form popped out at him.

  “Most of the research concludes that people who believe they can change from human to animal are crazy, but still it’s all so fascinating.” She scratched between Reardon’s ears. “The notion of a human and an animal inhabiting the same consciousness is wild. I imagine it must be confusing.”

  Only when a beautiful woman is involved.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Brandy read through a few more pages of her secret clinical lycanthropy file then snapped her laptop shut. She put the computer on the floor beside the bean bag chair and turned to face Alator.

  “You must think I’m crazy. It’s completely foolish to want lycanthropy to be real. What the hell kind of scientist am I? A science fiction scientist apparently.” She puffed out a long breath and put her attention back onto Bella and Jacob filling the screen. “I have to stop watching this shit too. Doesn’t help me stay in the real world.”

  She picked up the remote and went back to the TV’s guide screen, but Alator put his massive paw on her thigh. Again, she was reminded of Reardon’s big hand on her stomach last night.

  Last night. When we were both naked. Together.

  Not at all like tonight when Reardon stood her up. He could have at least called to say he wasn’t interested in coming over anymore.

  “Wait a minute.” She looked down at Alator’s paw on her thigh. “I didn’t give Reardon my number, did I?” Poor guy had no way to contact her if he’d had to cancel. Maybe… maybe something happened to him. “Oh, no.” She hated that thought, but it made sense. Not that the only reason a guy would stand her up was because something horrendous had happened to him, but Reardon didn’t seem like an asshole who wouldn’t show. True, she’d only known him for a day. He could be so many things she didn’t even know about yet, but a jerk didn’t seem like a possibility.

  Not the way he made love to her. As if she were a treasured gift or something.

  She grabbed her phone off the coffee table as she put Twilight back on, seeing as how Alator had been letting out small whines since she’d changed the channel. “What, are you in love with Bella too?”

  Alator swung his head away from the TV, his green-gold gaze connecting with hers as his head tilted one way then the other. Was he trying to tell her something? If so, what?

  Shaking her head over thinking a wolf was attempting to communicate with her, she tapped her phone and found the number she was looking for.

  “Canville Police and Fire Department,” the night operator said in a sleepy voice.

  “Colleen, hello. It’s Brandy. And you realize you answered your own cell phone, not the Canville Police and Fire Department line, right?”

  “Hey, Brandy. Uhh, yeah. ‘Canville Police and Fire Department’ rolls out of my mouth whenever a phone rings. Sorry. What’s up? Is that nasty Hank Swift up to no good again? I can have a unit out there in record time to haul his ass into town.” Colleen was always full of fire.

  “No. Nothing with Hank, but I was wondering if you could check the records and tell me if any ambulances were sent out today.”

  “Sure, but why?”

  Tapping sounded and Brandy knew Colleen was typing on her computer, looking up the ambulance calls. It paid to have a buddy who answered the phones at the town’s safety complex.

  “Someone was supposed to meet me tonight and he didn’t show. I want to make sure he’s okay.”

  “And that he didn’t stand you up. I don’t see how anyone could stand you up, chickie. You’re freaking gorgeous and if you’d come over to my team, we could be happy for the rest of our lives.”

  “You know I love you, Colleen, but I can’t be with someone who is prettier than me.”

  Colleen barked out a laugh that made Brandy have to hold the phone away from her ear and laugh along. “Slick, Wendon. Really slick. Okay, according to today’s log, no ambulances went out today. I also checked the police files and it was a low crime day. Two parking tickets, one minor fender-bender with no injuries reported, and a formal complaint filed against one Hank T. Swift by one Dr. Parker I’d-Do-Him-If-I-Wasn’t-Gay Daniels, but I assume you knew about that last one because your name is mentioned in the complaint.”

  The line went quiet for a moment, and Brandy assumed Colleen was reading the details of the complaint.

  “Aww, shit, Brandy. One of your wolves got shot by that redneck bastard?”

  “Yeah. Alator, the newest wolf.” My favorite wolf. Brandy smiled at the way Alator had his head resting on the paw he’d put on her thigh. With barely perceptible movements, he wiggled a little more of his head onto her lap, a little more, a little more until his entire head spanned across both her thighs.

  “When is Olsen going to lock up Swift’s ass? I mean, what’s it going to take? Nobody likes him. Today a wolf gets shot, tomorrow it could be a person.”

  A ripple of fear undulated through Brandy. It had been exactly what she’d been thinking. It was bad enough she had to worry about her wolves getting hurt, but if Dylan or Meredith or Parker were harmed by Hank, she’d lose it. Sheriff Olsen would be locking her up. She was certain of it.

  “Let’s hope it never comes to a person getting hurt. Parker had security cameras installed, so that should help keep a better eye on things.” She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “So, no mention of a tall, dark-haired man in any of today’s reports then?”

  “Not a one. Give me a name though, and I can check more specifically for you.”

  “Reardon.”

  “Reardon what?”

  “See, here’s the thing…” Boy, did she feel like an idiot. Not only did she and Reardon not exchange phone numbers, she also didn’t know the hunk’s last name. God, she was turning into some kind of backwoods slut who slept with men she barely knew. Ugh. “I don’t know his last name.”

  “You made a date with a man whose last name you don’t know?” Colleen chuckled. “Oh, Brandy, Brandy, Brandy. I didn’t know you had it in you, sister.”

  “Had what in me? The ability to be a hussy?” She smacked her palm to her forehead and wanted to crawl under a rock.

  “Hussy? Brandy, it takes more than that to be a full-fledged hussy. I would know. I have a degree in hussiness, you know. Nothing to be embarrassed about, girlie. I’m glad to hear you’re having some fun with something besides all those wolves.”

  “Well, I certainly had fun last night, but he didn’t show tonight.” Now she was back to wondering if he truly wasn’t interested. They’d only had the one night together. It wasn’t as if he owed her any kind of loyalty or anything. She’d been thanking him for saving her and Dylan. Maybe that was just the end of it.

  “Has to be a good reason. No man with a functional penis would turn down a second chance to see you, gorgeous.”

  “Well, thanks, Colleen. You always know how to cheer me up.”


  “If I wasn’t working, I’d come bring you some wine and we could get good and liquored and bash men until the sun came up. Unfortunately, I’m stuck here until 2:00 a.m. this shift.”

  “No worries. I’m over it. I’d set out to thank him for saving Dylan and me from that car that crushed my SUV in town yesterday. I wasn’t trying to develop this big, deep relationship.” But, hell, that would have been nice.

  “Sure, sure. I get you. A little thank you sex. Fun times. So what are you going to do because he didn’t show?”

  “Wallow, I think.”

  “Don’t wallow too long. I hear wallowing causes wrinkles and that’d be a damn shame on your lovely face. Let’s get together soon, okay? I believe it’s my turn to crush your tiny ass in Scrabble, is it not?”

  “You never win at Scrabble against me, lady.” Colleen was absolutely the worst speller in the universe, but that didn’t stop her from trying.

  “Doesn’t mean I shall give up. I’m a fighter, Brandy. To the d-e-t-h.”

  “D-e-a-t-h, Colleen.”

  “Right. Whatevs. Call me tomorrow and let’s schedule some girl time.”

  “Okay. Thanks. Bye.”

  Brandy hung up as Jacob warned Bella to stay away from Edward on the TV. Yeah, as if she was going to listen. That teenager had it bad for Edward, which Brandy never understood because there was Jacob, looking all hot and Native American and werewolf-about-to-shift. Stupid teenage girls. They never saw what was right in front of them.

  Snuggling with Alator relieved some of the disappointment of the evening, and Brandy refused to let herself think about the fact that Reardon hadn’t shown. For whatever reason, he hadn’t come and she’d have to deal with it. Forget about it. Move on. She was used to being alone anyway.

  “Actually, there’s no need for me to be alone, is there?” She picked up her phone again and texted Meredith.

  Reardon didn’t come. Dylan can come home.

  A moment later, Meredith texted back. Too late. Kid is unconscious. Didn’t even make it through one Spiderman movie. Return him in the a.m. What happened w/ Reardon?

  What happened with Reardon? Excellent question. Nothing happened. Don’t know. No biggie. See you tomorrow.

  Night, kid. Love you.

  Brandy dropped her phone in her lap and finished watching Twilight while absently rubbing Alator’s silky fur. None of the other wolves had fur quite like his. Though it was thick and black as a moonless midnight, it was still so soft. She frequently had the urge to bury her face in the fluff.

  “And on that note, it’s probably time for bed.” She heaved in a huge breath and sifted it out slowly. “C’mon, big boy. Move over. We must part ways now.”

  Alator let out a small whine and nestled his head deeper into her lap as if saying, I’m staying right here, lady. All night long.

  “Well, you don’t get to decide. The two-leggeds are in charge around here, mutt.” She carefully slipped her hands under his head and lifted gently so she could slide—none too gracefully—fromunder him.

  The huge wolf groaned like an old man, stretched out his three good limbs, then pulled everything into a tight ball on his bed.

  Damn, he’s adorable.

  Brandy shot a quick glance to the couch, considering for half a minute sleeping downstairs to be near Alator. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she scolded herself. “You have a perfectly wonderful bed upstairs. This wolf will be fine without you, Dr. Wendon.”

  She grabbed her empty beer bottle and the popcorn bowl and took care of them in the kitchen. Popping her head back into the living room, she said, “Good night, Alator. Thanks for keeping me company. See you in the morning.”

  Alator raised his head and blinked green-gold eyes at her. He twitched his jagged ear and thumped his tail a few times.

  “Oh, you don’t like that I’m heading upstairs? Well, it’ll be morning before you know it. You’d better get your rest. You need it so that leg of yours will heal nicely. You want to be running around with the rest of the pack, don’t you?”

  More tail thumping.

  “Don’t be such a baby. Sweet dreams, big boy.” She blew him a kiss and headed upstairs to her bedroom.

  Her dark, empty bedroom. A room that had been so much more fun last night with Reardon in it. A room that needed a male presence.

  “Face it, girl. It’s just you and the sheets tonight.”

  She sighed, used the bathroom, then climbed into bed, pulling only the light sheet over her. The windows were open, letting in sounds of the night. Crickets chirping. Cicadas singing. Water in the brook on the property bubbling. Sounds she’d become accustomed to while living at Silver Moon Sanctuary all these years. Sounds that kept her company.

  When men did not.

  ****

  Reardon listened for sounds of Brandy upstairs. When he didn’t hear any, he closed his eyes and shifted to human. He had to put his hands over his mouth to muffle the pained groans threatening to spill out. Gods, his shot leg hurt. Damn that fool Hank Swift. Reardon was accustomed to sword jabs, spear gouges, the occasional fist to the jaw, but a bullet beat all of those in the pain department. Weapons were one thing of the future Reardon definitely did not like.

  Moving slowly, he sat up on the wolf bed Brandy and Dylan had so lovingly provided. Bless them. He’d never been taken care of so well in his life. Even his own mother hadn’t been as concerned about his status as the Wendons were.

  And I’ve gone and hurt Brandy. It killed him that he’d disappointed her by not showing up this evening. Only he had shown up. He’d been with her all night just not in a form she could recognize or accept.

  Or could she? Reardon glanced back to the TV, its screen now dark, and thought of the movie Brandy had been watching. She favored the werewolves. She’d also shared her research notes on lycanthropy with him. She was interested in humans shifting into animals.

  But she thinks it’s all fantasy.

  “Time to show her it’s not,” he whispered. If any human could accept what he was, Reardon was convinced it was Dr. Brandy Wendon. The trick was to reveal himself in a way that wouldn’t scare her or anger her.

  He looked down at his throbbing calf. The bandage had torn off because his wolf leg was a lot thinner than his human one. Inspecting the bullet wound, he was impressed by the neat stitching Parker had done. A single, straight line of black stitching closed the injury and aside from a little dried blood and a general puffiness to the surrounding skin, everything looked good to Reardon. Still, the site should be covered. Especially if he were to go outside to retrieve some clothing from his hiding spot.

  Reardon used his arms and good leg to maneuver to the couch. Using the piece of furniture for balance, he got to his feet and stood still, waiting to see how much pain that position would cause. Blood rushed around his body and beat a rhythm right on his wound. Again, he had to put his hand over his mouth to keep from vocalizing his pain.

  Moving at a pace no fierce warrior would ever admit to, Reardon stumbled his way to the downstairs bathroom. He rummaged around until he found some gauze and tape. Sitting bare-assed on the toilet seat, he managed to wrap his leg, trying his best to keep his efforts noiseless. If Brandy woke up now and found him naked in her bathroom, his chances of not scaring her flew out the window.

  Satisfied that his wound was sufficiently protected and taking some extra gauze and tape with him, he heaved in a few deep breaths, preparing to walk to the front door and go outside. It wasn’t that far from the bathroom to the front door, but in his current state, it felt like miles and miles. Plus, he still had to make it to the entrance gates—no way he was jumping any fences tonight—and tramp through the woods to his supplies. A fresh sweat broke out on his forehead.

  I have to do this.

  If he didn’t come to Brandy as a human soon, she’d dismiss him. If she dismissed him, he could never reveal what he was to her. If he didn’t reveal what he was to her, she’d never know that all her research wasn’t a silly hobby.


  If she didn’t know it wasn’t a silly hobby, she’d never accept him for what he truly was.

  What does it matter, wolf? Flidae. Not what he needed right now.

  Gritting his teeth, he thought, Even if I don’t get to keep her, I will take this time with her.

  I love how you think you are in control, Reardon McAlator. Flidae’s laughter filled his head as painfully as his leg throbbed. You are not.

  He clamped his hands over his ears, but her voice still echoed in his skull.

  You banished me, Flidae. Deemed me unfit to receive your protection, yet you continue to watch me. Why?

  A long beat of silence stretched on, and Reardon didn’t think she was going to answer him.

  My punishment was not without terms, wolf. You are to do something worthy. I am simply monitoring your progress.

  In order to make progressing more difficult.

  Perhaps. And I’m aware of your intention to reveal yourself to this human. Do you think that’s wise?

  I don’t want there to be secrets anymore. I think she can handle the knowledge.

  A heartbeat of silence. Well, this changes things.

  She left his consciousness before he could ask what her statement meant. A wave of dizziness swept over him. He leaned forward and rested his head on his knees, breathing deeply. Angering a goddess had been a foolish move. He’d learned his lesson on that one, but he had to push forward on his plan to tell Brandy what he was. He couldn’t waste any more time because he didn’t know how much he had.

  On a silent count of three, Reardon pushed off the toilet and braced himself in the doorway of the small bathroom as all the blood again rushed down to his hurt leg. His fingernails dug into the wood door frame as he fought off the pain. Hopefully Brandy wouldn’t notice the indentations.

  He poked his head out of the bathroom and focused his gaze on the front door. It was a straight path, but he dreaded making the journey all the same. Inhaling and exhaling several deep breaths, he took a step and immediately wanted to crumple to the ground.

 

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