Tall, Dark and Furry (The Elementals Book 1)

by Meredith Allen Conner

  TALL, DARK AND FURRY

  The Elementals, Book 1

  Meredith Allen Conner

  Chapter One

  I don’t want to die tonight.

  Sela grasped the branch in one hand, panting as she studied the bar across the parking lot. What a bar was doing in the middle of the woods in Idaho, she couldn’t fathom. She didn’t care either.

  At the moment, it was her only hope.

  She sucked in a deep breath and held it. She couldn’t hear any movement in the woods behind her, but she knew they were out there. And gaining on her.

  This bar might be her only chance. Her legs shook with exhaustion. Urgency pushed at her. Sela ignored it, shoved it away and concentrated on the most important thing. Survival. She had to make a choice. Seek help here or push on through the dark woods.

  An enormous shiver shook her body. The river crossing a few miles back had her chilled to the bone.

  I hate water.

  She shook it off. No time to feel sorry for herself.

  Concentrate, damn it.

  The full moon highlighted the center of the lot, clearly defining the vehicles. The towering trees shed dark shadows over the edges of the cleared area.

  Big bikes and rather beat up pick-ups scattered in random order over the flat, dirt parking lot. A string of white twinkling lights hung in a disjointed line along the roof edge of the solitary building. Neon bar lights flickered in the one window. A large sign stood over the doorway. It was too far away for Sela to make out the lettering.

  Possibly bikers, maybe some rednecks. She didn’t know exactly where she was. The southeastern part of the state was her best guess. If she remembered her map correctly, this area was composed of mostly small towns.

  That could work to her advantage. She would be new and a female alone in a bar of hopefully single, heterosexual men.

  I can make this work. Get in. Pick someone up. Get a ride out. Away. Food and shelter. Safety for a night.

  The front door opened and a big biker stumbled out. He regained his balance after a few steps and paused to lift his head.

  Sela held her breath as she watched him intently. Was he scenting the air? As if he knew she hid behind the tree, he turned his head to look directly at her.

  Impossible. He couldn’t know she was here. A couple hundred feet separated them. It had to be her nerves.

  She eased slightly to the side, further into the shadow of the tree. Just in case.

  His attention didn’t waver. Goose bumps broke out over her arms. She turned to make her way along the edge of the parking lot. She couldn’t risk it.

  The biker shrugged, did a one-eighty and loped off into the woods. Sela stopped. What was that all about?

  A branch snapped in the woods behind her.

  No choice. Out of time.

  She stepped around the tree and jumped over a small bush. Her left foot hit a good-sized rock as she landed then stumbled forward a few feet.

  She grabbed the seat of the bike next to her. Her nails scraped along the supple cushion before she managed to stop. Long scratch marks now marred the beautiful leather.

  Oops.

  Ignoring the damage, she hurried across the dirt and gravel surface toward the dark building.

  The sign above the doorway caught her eye. A giant, howling wolf’s head, jaws wide open with jagged teeth in stark outline, loomed over the doorway. The words “The Wolf’s Den” emerged from the mouth. The head appeared slightly distorted.

  Sela shivered again. Her stomach tightened and the hair on her arms stood up. A strange sense of premonition washed over her, like Fate just tapped her on the shoulder. She knew if she walked into this bar her life would be forever changed.

  Sela shook her head and stomped her foot.

  Focus. It’s just your imagination. Bad guys behind you. A chance to live in front of you.

  She took a deep breath then brushed the leaves and dirt she could see off her jeans and top. She smoothed her shirt down.

  Big boobs would be really helpful right now.

  She inhaled, slower this time. She needed to at least appear calm and together before she went inside. It would not help her if she made a scene in front of the humans.

  The Order rarely tried to capture her in full view of the public. They needed to keep their secrets as much as she did.

  Besides, she could always create a major ruckus later.

  A stick snapped at the far edge of the parking lot.

  Squelching a momentary flare of guilt for any problems she was dragging inside the bar with her, Sela thrust her shoulders back and opened the door.

  Hope flickered to life as she stepped inside the bar.

  Maybe I won’t have to die tonight after all.

  ****

  Mac shifted slightly on the barstool. He shrugged his shoulder a few times, using the wall behind him to scratch an itch.

  He wanted to fight. No, he needed to fight. He needed to jump right in the middle of a no-holds-barred, down and dirty, all out brawl.

  He flexed his hand around the bottle of beer.

  Damn it to hell. Everyone here is a friend.

  Of course for his kind, roughhousing went hand in hand with friendship. He allowed that tantalizing thought to bounce around for a moment.

  Any of the men in the bar tonight would gladly indulge his longing to meet head on in a brutal exchange of fists. He snorted. Hell, they’d be gleeful.

  The bar, on the very outskirts of town, was the place to go when any of their warriors got a little edgy. Far enough away from town and inside the woods, there stood little chance that any innocents would get hurt if a skirmish did break out.

  But Mac needed something more than a nice brawl. He wanted to feel the impact of his fists hitting flesh, to hear the satisfying snap of broken bones and the guttural screams of agonizing pain. Pain he had inflicted.

  It had been far too long since he had satisfied that craving. If he had a mate, the restlessness gnawing at him would go away. But he didn’t have a mate. None of the warriors here did.

  His beast prowled the confines of his human body, the full moon pulling at him.

  He would not let his beast loose on his friends. Not in his current mood.

  If he couldn’t fight, then he needed to fuck. To pound over and over again into a soft, curvy body, to lose himself, even for just a few minutes.

  He glanced around the packed bar. Large, male bodies sat, lounged or played pool, nary a soft female in the group. The single women in town were way too smart to come to this bar.

  Mac growled. Two strikes already and the night had just begun.

  “You’re gonna break that bottle if you hold it any tighter. Personally, I’d rather drink Wolf’s Brew than waste it on the floor.”

  Roc leaned against the wall next to him. Mac relaxed his grip, but otherwise ignored the man.

  “No, don’t say a word. Don’t greet your best friend,” Roc waved his beer in front of Mac’s face a few times. “I’ll just carry on the conversation all by myself.”

  Mac rolled his eyes.

  “Let’s see if I can guess what has you so surly tonight. It’s a beautiful night, nice full moon. The town is safe and it’s been several weeks since we had any trouble.” Roc rubbed a hand over his chin, pretending to ponder a deep mystery.

  “Ah, yes. It’s been several weeks since we had any trouble, or sport as you like to call it.”

  Mac shrugged. Not bothering to deny his love of violence. He and Roc both had been the right hands of their Wolven for centuries, entrusted with the safety of their clan. Warriors to the bone, they guarded the clan with their lives. />
  Mac loved charging into battle. He thrived on it. After all this time, he still didn’t understand why Roc didn’t love a good battle as much as he did. Roc might enjoy the occasional skirmish, but he didn’t love them.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t started a fight already.”

  Mac tightened his fist. Subtle as the movement was, Roc still saw it.

  “That bad, hmm?” Roc sighed. A long, suffering, drawn out sigh. “I guess I could volunteer to be your punching bag.”

  Mac growled.

  Roc straightened abruptly. “Really bad.” He leaned past Mac and set his beer down on the counter. “We’d better get out of here then. The last time you were in a mood like this, you damn near destroyed the bar. Kevin will be pissed if you do it again.”

  “Did Cam send you?” Mac took a long pull off the bottle.

  Roc didn’t bother to deny it. “Yep. And I quote find Mac and keep him out of trouble.” Roc scowled. “I’ll probably get blamed for whatever you do, which completely sucks, so let’s go before you do get us in trouble.”

  Roc was right, he couldn’t fight anyone here and there was no one to fuck. He might as well leave before his need for violence did get them in trouble.

  Mac nodded, straitening. The front door to the bar opened. A tiny brunette walked in. Mac heard his beer bottle shatter, but the sound came as if from a distance.

  Every muscle in his body tensed. He inhaled slowly. Her scent easily reached him over the other smells of beer, sweat and soap in the bar.

  Storm clouds, fresh snow and sweet figs surrounded her. The strange combination lured him. It called to him as no other scent ever had before. His beast stopped prowling. Blood pounded through him. His cock hardened.

  She walked slowly to the bar counter. Her stride fluid, the roll of her hips hypnotic. His palms itched to stroke over her lush ass and waist. Her shirt clung damply to breasts that looked to be barely a handful. His mouth watered in anticipation of tasting them.

  She smiled at Kevin. Mac growled warningly and Kevin took a step back. He held his hands in front of him, in plain view. Other heads turned to look at him, but no one moved.

  Her eyebrows knitted in confusion. Mac knew she hadn’t heard his warning to the other men. Kevin shrugged at her and moved to the other end of the bar, out of the way.

  Mac wanted to smooth away the frown on her face. She pursed her mouth and he imagined those lush lips wrapped around his cock. Her dark hair hung past her shoulders. She appeared to have gone swimming with her clothes on. He shuddered at the thought of those damp tresses dragging across his chest.

  “I’ve never smelled anything like her before.” Astonishment coated Roc’s tone. “What the hell is she?”

  “Mine.”

  Mac looked directly into Roc’s eyes. Roc arched an eyebrow, but didn’t challenge him. Mac shifted his eyes back to the woman immediately, almost desperate to see her again.

  She scanned the bar as if looking for someone. Mac stood. He was that someone, whether she knew it or not.

  Her eyes met his. Hers widened. He could drown happily in those midnight eyes. Soft, deep blue eyes . . . filled with fear. Fear? She was afraid of something. Very afraid.

  Mac sucked in a sharp breath. His big body tensed for battle. His beast howled. Looked like he might just get to fight and, if he had his way, to fuck tonight too.

  He’d kill anyone who tried to get in his way.

  Chapter Two

  Sela stared at the big, dark guy in the corner. Should she go after him? He wouldn’t be an easy mark, but for some reason she could not take her eyes off him. She scratched her right wrist over the mark on her skin, not glancing away from him.

  He may be more than you can chew, Chickie.

  Even so, there was something about him that drew her.

  And that was saying something. Every man in the bar stood well over six feet tall, well muscled and faintly predatory.

  She thought she’d hit the jackpot when she walked into the bar. These guys looked like they wouldn’t mind a fight at all. In fact, they might enjoy one.

  She’d checked out the scene as she walked up to the bar. Surprisingly she didn’t see another woman in the bar. The thought that this might be a gay bar went as quickly as it came. You could bottle the testosterone in the air. And charge a hefty fee for it, too.

  Best to just take advantage of the lack of other women. Sela added a subtle swing to her stride. Heads turned with

  gratifying speed. The bartender had already started toward her when she reached the counter.

  Then something very weird happened.

  Everyone turned or shifted away from her, even the bartender walked away without taking her order, like they had all received an order she hadn’t heard.

  Panic set in immediately.

  Maybe she had walked into a trap. Maybe these men were somehow in conspiracy with the zealots who stalked her. Maybe she had been herded here, and they were just waiting for the other men to arrive.

  At that moment of mounting hysteria, she saw him.

  Even in this room of masculine supremacy, he stood out.

  Much closer to seven feet than six, his wide chest stretched his dark t-shirt to its limits. Muscles rippled under the soft cotton.

  She followed their outline as he shifted his weight. Something about that movement struck her, but she couldn’t quite figure out what.

  Ogling? Really? Don’t you think you might have more important things to concentrate on, Chickie?

  Absolutely. So why did her eyes continue their journey downward?

  Well-worn jeans outlined powerful thighs, the front of those jeans protruded outward. Impressively outward. Her eyes widened. She couldn’t see any lower than his upper thighs, but she just knew even his knees and calves would be sexy.

  Sela had never considered herself to be a knee woman. After eyeing this man she might just sign up to be President of the Sexy Knee club - the rest of the mouthwatering body included.

  She forced her gaze upwards. She could at least appear normal, not taken over by a sudden attack of come-and-take-me-now-baby. She didn’t even know his name.

  But she did know that his short inky, black hair tempted her to run her fingers through it over and over again. His dark eyes made her want to sink deep inside of them. And his face . . . Sela could not for the life of her figure out why his somewhat beaten-up, almost ugly face made her want to melt.

  She scratched her right wrist again.

  For some totally obscure reason, her hormones actually went into overdrive at the sight of his battered face. Carved out of granite, not the least bit handsome, he looked fierce, unyielding and lethal. Not someone to meet in a dark alley.

  Why does that excite me?

  And what was her problem? She’d never been overtly interested in a man before. She didn’t have the time. Staying alive and free had always been her priority.

  It still is. Concentrate, damn it.

  When had she last slept? Had anything to eat?

  She couldn’t remember. Too long ago obviously if her brain was short-circuiting.

  Sela began to turn, determined to put him out of her mind and pick another man to use. Someone as dangerous as he looked was bound to cause trouble. And in her current situation, she definitely needed to be the one in control.

  As if he sensed her thoughts, he stalked toward her.

  He moved like a predator. That’s what struck her before. The hair on the nape of her neck stood at attention. Pure danger radiated from him.

  Her wrist burned slightly. She pressed her left hand over the area. She must have brushed up against poison ivy or something in the woods.

  Right, the woods. Bad guys after you. Scary stuff. Get a grip, Chickie.

  He stopped directly in front of her. Sela tipped her head back to look him in the eye. Heat poured off his body, enveloping her in a delicious embrace.

  Holy Hannah, his skin must be so very hot.

  She would never be cold
again in his arms.

  Stop it! Get a damn grip. He means nothing to you.

  She pressed harder on her wrist. It burned stronger by the second.

  “What are you afraid of?”

  She nearly recoiled in shock. How could he know? He was a complete stranger. How could he possibly know that she was afraid?

  Her stomach clenched. She didn’t understand her reaction to this man, but she could not bear it if he was one of them.

  “Tell me who you fear and I will kill them for you.”

  She gaped at him. She had never received an offer of such blatant lethality before. And in her world, strange things happened all the time.

  “Tell me.”

  She shuddered. Tingles ran up and down her spine. Deep, husky and menacing, his voice started happy sparks dancing in her stomach.

  Moisture pooled between her thighs.

  What the hell was happening to her? Her reaction to this man was all out of proportion. She didn’t like it at all.

  His eyes narrowed. His nostrils flared slightly.

  Crap. Can he smell my desire?

  He reached out and placed his hand over her left one. A violent bolt of pure energy pulsed through her body. It gathered and erupted outward from the mark on her wrist. The force of the blast knocked their hands away. Sela yelled.

  He tensed. His immense body flexed for battle.

  Sela stared in shock at her wrist. Her mark glowed. Her heart thudded harder. Excitement, power and fear flooded through her.

  Holy Hannah. It’s not a what that’s the trigger, but a man. He’s the one. My mark is active.

  ****

  What the hell just happened?

  Mac stared down at the top of the woman’s dark damp hair. He’d heard of sparks flying when two people met, but this seemed a bit extreme. His hand still tingled from that one touch. His cock throbbed. The contact had been too brief. He wanted to touch her again, to run his hands all over her, see if her skin sent out more volatile tingles all over.

  He thought about sliding deep inside her, would he feel that electric pulse then?

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. Damn, he couldn’t wait to find out.