Mr. Red Riding Hoode pp-2

by Dana Marie Bell

  She just hoped she got to him before any serious damage was done. They might not physically harm him, but they could do a hell of a lot of damage to a mating that hadn’t even taken place yet.

  She just hoped she got the chance to explain things to him before he ran all the way to Abu Dhabi.

  Steve bolted through the woods, only one word pounding in his brain over and over again.

  Werewolves.

  Je-sus.

  Leave it to him to go on vacation in the one place that was chock-full of Team Jacob.

  He could hear them baying behind him, hunting him. If he could get to his car, he’d be safe. He’d take off, pretend he never even came here. He could have Ben ship his laptop back to him, right?

  Right?

  Shit.

  Ben had changed into one of them too, and worse, the son of a bitch knew where he lived.

  Moscow sounded pretty good. No one would think to look for him there. Except he hated borscht. And the cold.

  He was going to miss the hell out of his computer.

  Dark shapes streaked past him. Oh, God. They were going to circle him. Circle him and take him down like a wounded deer. His coat had seemed dark enough for the moonless night, but who knew what wolves could see?

  Did it look like blood?

  Fuuuuck.

  Wait. No fuck. No fucking whatsoever.

  Graciela had called him her mate, right before she turned fuzzy.

  Mate.

  He had to let them know he really wasn’t into furries. Or pony play.

  Would that be wolf play?

  Ew.

  Lights in the distance caught his attention. He didn’t think the werewolves would want to ick out their guests by feasting on his gory remains in front of them.

  This was what he got for wanting to see a pretty girl get naked. He was never going to look at naked girls again.

  She’d been awfully pretty, though—

  A howl rent the night air, and Steve shuddered.

  I’m dog food.

  He stumbled into the open, his breath coming in freezing pants, his legs numb from the knees down from plowing through the snow. There. The car park. If he could just get to…

  Shit, fuck and damn.

  Ben was leaning against his car, buck naked. The hood was up, and his ex-best friend was holding something that looked suspiciously like wires. Ben held up his hands, his expression wary. “It’s okay, Steve.”

  Steve didn’t even hesitate. He veered off, heading for the front doors of the lodge. If he could get inside, maybe he could call for help. The National Guard would know how to deal with this, right?

  Did they even have silver bullets?

  Fuuuck.

  He was almost to the door before he realized Dave was there, the huge man’s arms crossed over his chest. The floodlights outside lit the grin on his face, making his teeth gleam. Apparently he ran faster than Ben, because he was wearing unbuttoned jeans. At least he wasn’t rubbing his bare ass up against the glass.

  Ben’s naked ass had been on his car.

  Ew.

  Wait. Were those fangs in Dave’s mouth?

  Steve wasn’t hanging around to find out. He booked it for one of the other doors leading into the lodge.

  Before he got three steps, a small wolf stepped in his path. Steve instinctively veered away, unwilling to get his ass bitten for stepping on its tail. He slid on some ice, going down on said ass with a grunt.

  The wolf settled itself down, laying its muzzle on its paws with a soft whine.

  Steve sat there, his butt sore even through the padding of his coat, and stared.

  The wolf wagged its tail, a pup ready to play. Tag, maybe?

  He had a sudden vision of himself as the rope in a tug-of-war game.

  Steve almost hyperventilated and tried to booty-scoot away. “Uh. Nice puppy.”

  He could almost swear the wolf rolled its eyes.

  Steve continued to butt-walk backward until he hit something that felt suspiciously like legs. He looked up and got an eyeful of a part of Rick Lowell he never wanted to see again. “Ugh.”

  Rick rolled his eyes and crouched down next to him. “No one is going to hurt you.”

  Steve might have felt better about that if Rick hadn’t wrapped a massive paw around the back of his neck. “So you’ll kill me quick?”

  Rick sighed, the sound full of exasperation. “See that little wolf over there?”

  “You mean the one with its butt up in the air?”

  The little wolf looked ready to pounce on him. Was this the pack alpha or something?

  “That’s Chela.”

  He blinked, then shook his head and blinked again. “She’s your alpha?”

  Rick started to laugh. “No. I’m alpha.”

  That, at least, made sense. Rick had presence, that special something that made other people sit up and take notice even when he wasn’t speaking.

  “Hey, Stevie.” Ben settled on the cold, hard ground next to him. “You okay?”

  Steve shot him a disbelieving look. “What do you think, asshole?” He blinked in shock. Was he seriously baiting a wolf? “Forget I said that.”

  Ben bit his lip. The son of a bitch was this close to laughing while Steve was still debating whether or not he was terrified enough to pee his pants. “If I told you that you’re safe, would you believe me?”

  “Dude. You’re Team Jacob.”

  He recognized that laugh. Dave had joined them and now crouched behind Ben, who’d begun to shiver. “You’re a Jacob fan?”

  Ben glared at his lover. “You aren’t?”

  “Nope.”

  “You like that emo vampire?”

  “I’m more Team Winchester. Those boys are hot.” Dave grinned and winked at Steve, obviously trying to reassure him that all this was nothing more than a bad dream brought on by bad oysters or something. After all, everyone was naked.

  Except usually it was Steve who was naked in those kinds of nightmares. “Can I go now?”

  Ben grimaced. “We…kinda tore a part out of your car.”

  “I don’t think you’ll be leaving for a while.” Why the fuck did Dave have to look so smug?

  “Listen to me.” There was something about Rick’s voice that had Steve snapping to attention. “You know what we are now.”

  Yeah. That was why Steve was considering a lifetime trip to Moscow.

  “We are the Poconos Pack, Wolves who have been in this area for centuries. I am their Alpha, their leader. Ben is our Marshal, our enforcer if you will. The Pack’s physical well-being is in his hands. Dave is my Beta, my second-in-command, and Ben’s mate.”

  Mate. That was the word Graciela had used just before she’d…

  He swallowed hard. He wasn’t ready to think about that yet. His gaze drifted over to the little wolf who was suddenly a lot closer than she’d been a moment before. He could just make out the gleam of her golden eyes as she settled down in front of him, much as she had when she’d first run out in front of him. Only this time her gaze kept darting between himself and Rick.

  Oh God. It really was Graciela.

  “Ted is the Marshal’s Second. He acts as Ben’s Beta, if you will, enforcing the law and helping to see to the Pack’s well-being. He has as much say as the Beta, Marshal and Omega in how the Pack is run.”

  “And Graciela?” His voice sounded gravelly and loud as hell.

  “She’s the Pack Omega.”

  Something in him tightened at that. Even he knew that in wolf packs the omega was the one who got to eat last, the one who got beat up on when the other members needed to work out their aggressions. He didn’t like that.

  He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t like it one little bit.

  Rick must have felt the way he stiffened, because he continued in a quieter tone. “Chela is a treasured member of the Pack. The Omega sees to the emotional needs of the Pack, ensuring that it remains happy and healthy on a mental scale. She works closely with Ben to see to it
that everyone has what they need, and if they find problems, they bring them either to me or Dave.”

  “Congratulations! You’re her mate.”

  Ben sighed, but his gaze never left Steve’s face. “Goddamn it, Dave. Can we give him a second to breathe?”

  Steve nodded, then pulled up his hood. Breathing was good. He figured it would give him a few more minutes of life before they found his frozen corpse somewhere in the woods, because this had to be one of those life-and-death hallucinations he’d read about.

  It was the only thing that made sense, really. He’d die, they’d find a Stevecicle, and they’d send flowers, the end. He closed his eyes and prayed his ass would stop hurting.

  He should have gone to Bermuda.

  Chela glared at Dave and snarled as her mate passed out.

  “What?”

  She chuffed at him. This was why she didn’t let her Packmates deal with the straights.

  Chapter Four

  “Go away, Ben!”

  Chela shook her head as Steve bellowed at Ben through the closed doors. Because of his severe freak-out, they’d decided to move him to one of the employee cabins until they could get him to calm down.

  Instead, he’d gone ape-shit, locking himself inside the cabin and refusing to come out at all, even with bribes of steak. Hell, Dave had stood under his window and sung “Kumbaya” for hours, scaring away birds and causing the rest of the Pack to hide in the lodge, hands over their ears, until he gave up.

  Steve had done absolutely nothing, and that had scared Ben more than he was willing to admit.

  Chela rolled her eyes. She could already feel that, after three days of Ben’s begging and Dave’s laughing, the fear was slowly turning into annoyance. Rick had stayed out of it, allowing the men who knew Steve best to get him past his fears, but she was pretty sure the Alpha wouldn’t stay out of it for much longer. He wanted this resolved and his Pack back to normal.

  Most of all, he wanted Dave to promise never to sing again.

  Ever.

  Chela, however, was done waiting. She wanted her mate, and damn if she wasn’t going to get him.

  Chela leaned up against the side of the cabin, wishing she could just walk through the door and greet her mate the way she wanted to. If she could bite him, he’d feel the mating pull and all of this would be just a weird memory. “Give me his cell phone number.”

  Ben sighed. “He’s refusing to answer.”

  “You think I’m going to call him?” Chela gave him her best Belle look, enjoying the all-over shudder that ran over him.

  “Shit. Here. Just don’t do anything I’ll regret.”

  Chela put the number in her phone and immediately began typing. She hit send with a grin.

  “What the fuck?”

  The confusion they heard through the door had Ben giving her the evil eye. “What did you do?”

  She shrugged and started typing again, hitting send when Ben tried to look over her shoulder. “Nuffing.”

  “Chel.”

  “Trust me.”

  She could already feel the amusement warring with the fear and annoyance in the man behind the locked door. Chela bit her lip to hide her smile and sent another picture.

  Bless you, Belle. This was the best idea ever. It had taken her a few hours to gather all the images and quotes and load them on her phone, but she was willing to bet this would be what broke the ice with her frightened mate.

  The amusement was fading. Time to send the next picture.

  When Ben saw what she was sending Steve, he started to chuckle. “Droopy Dog? Really?”

  She typed out the quick message in her best Droopy. Hello, all you happy people. You know what? I’m the hero.

  She could almost hear the snicker, but he didn’t respond, so she sent him another cartoon dog. This one was just a simple GIF of a puppy wagging its tail, with the message, Please come out to play with me?

  The response was swift and decisive. No.

  She sent him Marvin the Martian and his green dog, K9. Aw, c’mon. How can you resist that face?

  His amusement spiked, but he still sent her No.

  This time she sent him the Grinch and Max. You’re mean.

  No! But she could almost hear him laughing.

  Odie accompanied her next message, drooling all over the place. I promise, I’m harmless.

  No answer. She dug up Peg from Lady and the Tramp for her next message.

  If he’s a tramp,

  he’s a good one,

  and I wish that I

  could travel his way.

  She waited a moment, but all she sensed was confusion. Damn. For a moment she’d forgotten. He didn’t feel the mating pull yet. She should have saved that one.

  She dug out the next image, one of Courage the Cowardly Dog. Something fishy is going on, or my name is Aloysius… And it’s not.

  Snickers answered that one, making her smile. Her mate had the best laugh.

  “Where did you get all these?”

  She’d forgotten Ben was still looking over her shoulder. “Which, the pics or the quotes?”

  “Both.”

  “Belle.”

  “Ah. Yeah.”

  She grinned. So far it seemed to be working. At least Steve was talking to her, even if it was to say no.

  The next message from him was followed by a swift dash of fear. You’re a werewolf. Ben’s a werewolf. That’s not something you get over with cutesy text messages.

  She typed back, I know, but…

  She sighed and sent him a GIF of a little boy hugging his dog.

  Silence. Not even his emotions bled through.

  The next message she sent was Blue from Blue’s Clues. Isn’t it time to get out of the Thinking Chair?

  That got a reaction. She’d been afraid he’d somehow snuck out of the cabin despite Ben and Chela sniffing for traces of him, his emotions were that quiet.

  No. But she could sense he was wavering. By proving she was goofy, she was making herself human again. She needed him to see her as human first, wolf second, even if that wasn’t always true.

  If you came out, we could finally go to dinner. A picture of Lady and the Tramp eating spaghetti followed her text.

  Silence again, but this time she felt more amusement than anything else. When her cell phone dinged, she looked at the image and broke into laughter.

  He’d sent her Snuffles, from Quick Draw McGraw, pointing toward his open mouth to beg for a dog biscuit.

  Just you, though. No one else.

  She didn’t need to even think about her response. Yes. Hell to the yes. Have her mate all to herself over food? That was a no-brainer. What would you like to eat? I can have someone bring something over, or we can meet in Lowell’s.

  The answer was swift. We’ll eat here. I’m not sure I want to head into the lodge right now.

  Well. That suited her plans down to a T. She had every intention of giving him the mating bite tonight, changing him into one of them and marking him as hers for the rest of eternity. From the way Ben shivered as she grinned, it was probably a good thing Steve couldn’t see her expression. She typed quickly, knowing she had to head back to the lodge and start on her plans for the evening.

  Works for me.

  Steve flinched at the knock on the door. Sure, he’d agreed to dinner with Graciela, but part of him was still wondering if running wasn’t the better option.

  Of course, with his luck, he’d become dinner. He’d seen the movies, read the novels. They’d kill him to keep their secret safe.

  No matter how cute the girl was, he still wasn’t sure it was worth it.

  “Steve?”

  He stared at the door, his heart pounding. He’d agreed to this, said yes against his better judgment, and now she was here.

  There was a fucking werewolf at his door.

  A cute one, but still.

  “Steve? I have steaks.”

  He huffed out a breath. She sounded wary, like someone who was trying to ge
ntle a frightened kitten.

  He didn’t want to be that kitten. He wanted his life back.

  He went up to the door and opened it, determined to face her once and for all. “I’m not sure about this.”

  She stared up at him, her gaze full of sorrow. “I swear, I won’t hurt you.” She was twisting a bit of ski jacket between her gloved fingers. Her dark hair was back in a bouncy ponytail, making her eyes seem huge.

  Shit. It was hard to be frightened of someone wearing bright pink plaid and looking like he’d kicked her puppy.

  She nodded toward a cart loaded with covered plates and a bottle of wine. “Food?”

  He glanced behind her, making sure she was alone. Pfft. As if a freakin’ werewolf couldn’t hide from me. “You promise you’re alone?”

  She nodded solemnly. “I give you my word as Omega.”

  That declaration had weight to it, her voice more serious than anything he’d heard from her yet. “Okay.”

  The smile he got as reward was stunning. He opened the door wider so she could start carting in the food. “You need help?”

  Another unbearably sweet smile that pulled at his heart. God, she was so sweet he wanted to cuddle her. “Nope. I’ve got it.” She looked down, her expression turning puzzled. “I thought you hated the cold?”

  “Yeah, I’m not fond of it. Why?”

  “You’re barefoot.”

  “And?”

  She went back out for the second plate. “Aren’t your feet cold?”

  He shrugged. “I prefer to be barefoot indoors. Always have, ever since I was a kid.” It was the first thing he did when he got home after a long day at the office. The shoes got kicked off, the socks thrown in the hamper, rain or shine, hot or cold. She wasn’t the first person who’d commented on it, and she probably wouldn’t be the last.

  She just shook her head, carting in the last of the food before closing the door. She took off the bright pink ski jacket and hung it next to his red coat.

  He ignored how right they looked next to each other, the calm certainty that her coat was right where it belonged.

  She’d worn a pair of jeans that should be illegal, the way they hugged her curves. The sweater was a warm cinnamon shade that made her skin glow. And, unlike a lot of the women Steve had dated in New York, she’d kept the makeup to a minimum, wearing just enough to make her eyes sparkle and her lips look wet and inviting.