Phantom Wolf pf-2

by Bonnie Vanak

  She looked too damn scared. Other pedestrians glanced at them curiously. They were drawing attention.

  “Juan, I want to buy some tortillas, too,” he said, hoping she took the hint.

  Silence. C’mon, Kel, take charge, he silently urged. Play the part.

  He pouted, putting a hand on one hip as he’d seen women do. “Another man would give me what I want,” he said in a smooth purr.

  It worked. Juan/Kelly’s head snapped up and she seized his arm, holding it in a proprietary way. “Enough shopping. We need to make it home before dark.”

  Her Spanish was slow but precise. Shay gave an approving nod.

  A brief, stinging slap on his ass made him yelp. “You are too much of a flirt with the men, Maria.”

  Glaring, he rubbed his ass. “They like what they see and pay attention to me.”

  “They only stare at your body.”

  Shay wriggled his hips. “Is it not a body worth a few stares?”

  “They will never have you. Mine is the only bed you will ever lie upon. Perhaps I should keep you there naked until I plant another baby in your belly.”

  Whoa. This was too weird, the words getting him cranked up.

  Beneath the plain cotton bra, his nipples turned to hard points. Shay glanced down in dismay. So this is what arousal felt like for women.

  And he thought it was hard to hide an erection...

  “Let us go, Juan.” Man, he sure as hell hoped she’d get the hint and stop talking. But Kelly was too into the role.

  “When I get you home, Maria, I will give you no reason to leave our bed. You will enjoy the pleasure I give you and forget about all others,” Juan/Kelly continued.

  Pleasure...memories flooded his mind. Kelly stretched out beneath him, her fingers interlaced with his, her smoky gaze widening as he lowered his head and encased one taut nipple in his mouth. Those little screams of hers driving him wild, her hands stroking him lower until he wanted to die...

  An odd, disconcerting ache pulsed between his legs. Shay felt real alarm. Dammit. “Let’s roll,” he muttered in English.

  Grabbing her arm, Shay picked up the pace. The hell with acting like a meek woman. This role reversal was more dangerous than he’d anticipated.

  Finally, they reached a deserted side street. Juan/Kelly pulled him into the recess of a doorway, out of sight. “What’s your prob?” she hissed in English.

  “You, talking about fucking me. Stop it,” he said darkly.

  Those sun-darkened cheeks flushed again. “Sorry. I didn’t think...”

  “Then start.”

  Juan/Kelly hugged himself. “I was scared. That man in the bus seemed like he knew who I was. I thought if I got more into the role of a man, it would help.”

  Shay’s anger faded. “It’s okay. I overreacted. It’s a little unsettling, getting turned on as a woman.”

  Curiosity flared on her face. “Is it? I’ve always wondered what it feels like to be a man, you know, when you get aroused. What turns a man on?”

  Hooyah, this was getting interesting. You.

  “Try it,” he said softly. “Touch yourself.”

  “A little kinky. But maybe if I imagine I’m touching you, when you’re Sam.” Juan/Kelly gave a seductive smile. “Like this.”

  Her hand dropped lower, over her groin. A single, slow stroke. Now blood began to rush much lower, making the ache turn into a pulsing need as Shay’s imagination kicked into overdrive. This was too much to resist.

  “Touching me how?”

  “All over,” she whispered. “The way I used to dream about, after you left. The way we first made love. I was scared, because I’d heard a woman’s first time hurts. And then you told me to explore your body...”

  He closed his eyes, remembering Kelly’s hands touching him, stroking over his naked body, exploring every exposed inch of his hot skin. Then her mouth slowly lowering, those wet, red lips opening as she took him into her mouth...

  Oh, hell, this was all wrong. No fantasy could ever suffice. He wanted the real thing.

  Shay’s eyes snapped open and met her startled gaze. Then she glanced down with a look of pure dismay. He bit back a chuckle.

  “Now you know what it feels like,” he murmured.

  “How do I get rid of this?”

  “I find it helpful to think of baseball. The Yankees winning the playoffs works for me.”

  “This is too weird,” Juan/Kelly muttered.

  “Right.” Shay sobered. “Think of what’s really at stake. What we need to be doing instead of standing here like a couple of horny teenagers. What could happen to your people and mine if all this goes down.”

  Juan/Kelly paled. “That works for me, Sam, because right now I feel scared to death.”

  “Hey.” He ran a finger down one sun-darkened cheek, envisioning the real Kelly beneath the disguise. “I’m not going to let it happen. Trust me.”

  They moved out of the building and to the main road. Juan/Kelly scanned the area. “So far, at least three humans are after me. The guys back at Rosa’s and the man on the bus. Those aren’t too bad odds.”

  “The man on the bus was an Arcane.”

  “Not possible. How could you tell?”

  “All Arcanes’ auras deepen to crimson when they’re tense. When we’re young, Elementals are taught to detect the slightest flicker. It’s taught in our schools, to protect Elemental children.”

  A small, disdainful snort. “How wonderful for your kind. And what about Arcanes? What defenses do we have? Did anyone ever consider we’re tense because our magick is weak and we’re under constant scrutiny by Elementals?”

  Shay fell silent. Kelly had been a victim of suspicion and prejudice long before the night of the fire.

  “I’m surprised my aura isn’t neon red. They’ve labeled me a criminal simply because I’m an Arcane. Any evidence of my innocence will be thrown out once I’m brought before the council.”

  Her voice dropped. “I’ll be imprisoned. Or executed.”

  Acid coated his throat. “No way in hell. Not going to happen, so stop talking about it.”

  He’d fight to the blood and bone to ensure she was safe. The promise made long ago still held. Even when he’d left her on her own, he hadn’t forgotten.

  “You won’t have any choice. As soon as you hand me over, you’re back to your SEAL team. The council will prevent you from interfering.”

  Shay sighed. “Trust me, Kel. I have influence and power, and I’ll be damned if I let those bureaucratic bastards touch you.”

  But a niggling doubt wormed into his mind. Did the council truly treat all Arcanes like that? No trial, no chance to plead their innocence, just thrown into prison, or worse?

  It would get worse. Once the council believed the threat of genocide, it’d act. Spring into action and imprison all Arcanes. Or kill them.

  Fair and just Mages like his uncle would stop them.

  But fear was a powerful motivator. All it would take was a few whispered words to the right people, and Arcanes would disappear.

  Kill an entire population simply because they were different. Couldn’t happen.

  Right.

  Gritting his teeth, he sidestepped a man lounging against a streetlamp. “If you want a normal life when this is over, Kel, you have to give the system a chance to work. Give me a chance.”

  “I gave you a chance twelve years ago. It’s too late.”

  The hard shell encased his heart once more. He said nothing, only nudged her to keep moving.

  Keep moving forward. All they could do. Except with every step forward, Shay felt himself sliding backward into the past.

  A past he missed more than he could admit.

  Chapter 12

  They needed a car.

  Sam hunted through the village looking for one to boost, but the town was too crowded. He opted for public transportation instead. La Aurora was too far to walk. And with the increased threat of men searching for her, Kelly knew they had to find
the missing kids.

  Before a bounty hunter captured her.

  They boarded a chicken bus. Afraid to meet strangers’ gazes, she looked out the window.

  As twilight fell, they got off at a town an hour’s drive from La Aurora. As they stepped off the bus, Sam steered her toward a shop that sold sundries and clothing, ignoring her protests.

  There, he purchased a plain white scarf and handed it to her.

  At her puzzled look, he pointed to a small mirror. “Take off the hat.”

  Kelly gasped.

  The once-gray hair now had streaks of vibrant red. Her magick was fading. Next she’d start growing breasts and curves and...

  “How long does your shape-shifting hold out?” he asked.

  She thought of the one previous attempt as she bound her head in the scarf as if her head were bandaged, hiding all her hair. “Two, three hours, maybe. I’ve never held it this long. Maybe when you bonded us together, it enhanced my magick.”

  His gaze sharpened as her stomach growled. “You need to refuel. I’ll find a restaurant.”

  “So much for the man being in charge,” she grumbled softly, replacing the hat.

  Sam gave a soft laugh. “I am.”

  Bypassing several smaller, quaint restaurants, he selected a larger one with a mixture of Europeans and locals. Sam chose an isolated table against the wall and faced the entrance.

  The waitress came and took their drink orders. Sam’s rugged confidence outshone her own. Even disguised, he held the attitude of a tough SEAL who could break an enemy’s neck with less fuss than a woman breaking a fingernail.

  Her nervousness grew. “We should have gone someplace smaller.”

  “It’s safer here in a crowd,” he explained, leaning on the table and scanning the room.

  Get back into character, she thought. “Elbows off the table, Maria. A lady never slouches.”

  He shot her a dirty look.

  Opening her menu, Kelly considered. “I’ll order for you, Maria. You don’t know what a woman likes to eat. You have no taste.”

  “Maybe I don’t know what a woman likes in the kitchen, but I sure as hell know what she enjoys in the bedroom. Especially a certain redhead who screams my name when I indulge my palate in a very special way.”

  A wicked gleam entered those dark eyes. Heat crawled over her face. He would remember that. “As I recall, that particular dining experience resulted in a few satisfactory exclamations.”

  “One, maybe,” she muttered.

  A crooked smile touched Sam’s mouth. He held up five fingers. Kelly ducked behind the menu.

  “You kept track?”

  “Only to set the bar higher,” he murmured.

  The waitress set their drinks down. Sweat trickled down Kelly’s temples as she stammered out their orders. When the woman left, Sam squeezed her hand. “Chill, Kel. You look scared as a rabbit in a wolf den. I’m just playing with you, getting you to relax.”

  “I can’t. Talk to me. I feel like everyone’s watching me.” She folded and unfolded her napkin. “How did you become a SEAL? Was it as hard as I’ve heard?”

  “Worse.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “I had a real asshole officer in boot camp. He kept pushing me hard, goading me to drop out.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “If I quit, I knew it was a matter of time before I did something stupid, like turning into a feral wolf again. The navy kicked my ass, taught me self-control.”

  Kelly looked at him with new respect. “You were never one to take orders.”

  “I learned, especially during BUD/S. Even BUD/S was nothing compared to training after I became a SEAL. More training to join Team 21. I had a werewolf, all two hundred pounds and teeth, nearly ripping my throat out. Was worth it to join the Phoenix Force. Damn best bunch of guys I’ve ever known.”

  “Sam, what’s going to happen to me when all this is over?”

  His gaze was steady. “My orders are to return you to the base first. Erase your memories.”

  Panic crept up her throat. “You can’t do that.”

  “I have to, Kel,” he said softly. “Just your knowledge of the team.”

  And him. “Please, isn’t there some way around it?”

  “It’s not so bad,” he said quietly. “Doesn’t hurt. You don’t feel a thing. Not like when you remember the bad things.”

  Like when my family died. The words hung in the air, unspoken. Kelly shifted in her seat.

  “Our memories make us who we are, even the bad ones.”

  Sam gave a very unladylike snort. “Cut the psychobabble. I’d love to erase the past.”

  “You’d wipe out all memory of it, including me?”

  Raising her chin, she watched his jaw tense. “Not you. Your father. He set that fire on purpose because he hated my family.”

  Sam had every right to his anger. Maybe if she told him the truth, it would help him deal, ease his anger. But what if the truth meant hurting him all over again?

  “He didn’t hate your mother.”

  “Right.”

  “I have proof.”

  Shock widened his eyes. He slapped his hands on the table, his body quivering, the thin shoulders in the white peasant blouse tensing. “What?”

  She hesitated.

  “Tell me,” he ordered. “Right now.”

  Swallowing hard, she plunged ahead. “A few weeks after the fire I snuck back to check our quarters, see if there was anything I could salvage. My stuff was all in the trash. The Mage authorities had done a thorough search, looking for evidence.”

  “Go on.”

  “The only thing they hadn’t thrown out was the policies and procedures manual your father issued all Arcane servants. I was going to toss it but decided to go through it. Sometimes Dad wrote notes in the pages, reminders of stuff to do...”

  Her throat closed up tight. “Dad had taped a note to the back of a page. Dated Christmas Eve.”

  His gaze narrowed. “Handwritten?”

  She nodded. “He’d jotted down a task list. Dad was involved in a small, underground group trying to secure equality for Arcanes. FES, the Freedom & Equality Society. And he’d found an ally within the walls of the mansion.”

  Kelly clenched her fists until the nails bit tender flesh. “Your mother.”

  Sam went very still. “Impossible. What did the list say?”

  “It was just notes. Wednesday night, eight-o’clock meeting, FES, execute plan. Target—Chloe Shaymore.” Her heart banged hard against her chest.

  He leaned forward. “What else, Kelly?”

  “There was a notation. Oil lamp, spill, master bed.”

  Red suffused Sam’s face. He swore in a low voice. “The master bedroom, where firemen said the fire originated. A hit list of the first Elemental to kill. My mother.”

  “No!” Others glanced at their table. She lowered her voice. “It was a reminder about something. He scribbled those things all the time. Your mother’s name was listed because she was conspiring with him and the FES. Once or twice I saw them whispering together. She went with him to a Wednesday-night meeting.”

  His tight expression warned he didn’t believe a word. “Why would my mother, who was queen of the Elemental social set, do something that dangerous? And every Wednesday night she went to her bridge club.”

  “And who was her chauffeur? My father. At her tea party, one of her friends talked about how they’d had to cancel bridge until finding new partners. She never went, Sam. Instead, she was with my father at a secret FES meeting.”

  Sam was utterly still, looking as if she’d stabbed him in the gut.

  “Your mother was essential to his plans to gain more rights for our people. He’d have fought to protect her.”

  “He was laughing as he fled. I saw him. Hell, you saw him! Does that sound like a man who wanted to save her?”

  “I don’t know! But my father would never hurt anyone.”

  “Why the hell are you telling me this now, Kelly
?” Sam looked sick.

  “I thought it might help you to know my father didn’t hate your family and couldn’t have set the fire.” Kelly reached across the table for his hand, but he drew back.

  Muscles taut, he leaned forward, his gaze glittering. “What did you do with this note? Did you turn it over to the Mage authorities?”

  “I burned it. I couldn’t risk them jumping to the wrong conclusions and using it to frame him for murder.”

  “You protected him.”

  “How could I trust them?”

  Sam went silent as their food was served. He picked up the fork, pushing the chicken around the plate. “You could have given it to my uncle. He’s fair and just. He’s the one who argued for your release and got you out of jail after the fire. Al has been a voice of reason for all Arcanes.”

  “I couldn’t risk it. Elementals aren’t interested in justice, only revenge. They’re all narrow-minded.”

  “Does that include me? I’m Elemental,” he asked quietly.

  “Of course not! I’d never think of you like that. Trust me, Sam.”

  A snort of harsh laughter. “Trust you? Why should I? You’re acting as biased as those windbags on the council, except you’re prejudiced against my people. I see whose side you’re on.”

  “I don’t want to take sides.”

  “Too late.”

  * * *

  To her dismay Sam booked them a room in one of the town’s motels. Kelly barely noticed the polished tile, the freshly painted walls and the bouquet of fresh flowers on the front desk when they registered.

  Instead, all she focused on was the fact that they’d be sharing one room. One bed, when an entire town right now wouldn’t be big enough to cover the silence hanging between them.

  Kelly bit her lip as he counted the money for the room. Gone was the carefree camaraderie between them. Sam had taken charge, assertive in skirts, a no-nonsense attitude.

  The red-tiled room had bright blue painted walls, a simple pine desk and one nightstand. An overhead fan lazily swept the air over a small, narrow bed.

  She turned to see Sam’s glamour vanish. But this time he was dressed in an olive-green T-shirt, camouflage pants covering his long, muscled limbs.