Marked by the Wolf Box Set (Werewolf Romance)

by Mac Flynn

  "No. You change when your body decides the moon is at its perfect position for you," he told me.

  "And then what happens after I-well, after the change?" I wondered.

  "You will remain here under my protection until the Foundation decides what to do with you," he replied.

  I sat up and frowned. "What's that mean? If I don't want to join their club can't I just leave the city?"

  He shook his head. "No. The Foundation territory is tightly controlled by Morgan and the others in the leadership, and even if they don't allow you into the Foundation they won't let you leave. You are their responsibility, and to let you go would anger other Foundations in other cities. They would see it as a breach in controlling the werewolf population inside this city."

  I jumped to my feet and glared at Mark. "So because I'm a werewolf I need to get their permission to do everything?" I snapped.

  "It is how our world works," he insisted.

  "No, it's how your world works. Mine says I can go to Bermuda if I want and not have to worry about getting permission from a bunch of psychopaths," I argued.

  Mark stood and frowned. "You have no choice. None of us has a choice. That's the way the world works for werewolves."

  "Maybe I don't want to be a werewolf! Maybe I'll decide the moon's position is never good enough and I'll just ignore all this stupid wolf nonsense! Maybe I'll just leave right now!" I tried to march to the door, but Mark caught my hand. I pulled, but he didn't budge. "Let me go! I don't want to be here, I don't want to be a werewolf, and I sure as hell don't want to be your mate!"

  Mark pulled my arm and flung me back onto the bed. He jumped atop me and bared his fangs. I'd never seen anything so feral and beautiful in all my life. I cringed back into the covers, but felt a heat rise inside myself. His nostrils flared and his eyes dilated. "Don't challenge me," he growled.

  I glared back. "Or what?" I challenged him.

  Mark shuddered and closed his eyes. He slid off me and strode over to the door. "The instincts inside me, inside us, are carnal. They demand procreation. Anger brings out those demands. Do not anger me again." He left the room, and left me alone.

  Chapter 8

  I wanted to escape this loony bin, and my mind came up with a million excuses why. Maybe I could hide myself in a hole until the full moon was over and I wouldn't transform, or maybe there was a cure and he didn't want to tell me. Whatever the reason I looked around for a way to escape. There were large windows against the same wall as the fireplace and the head of the bed. I hurried to one and swung the glass inward to peer out.

  The warm autumn day greeted me with a breeze and I breathed in the deep scent of falling leaves. It would be tempting to romp through the leaves on all four paws-what the heck was I thinking? I didn't want to romp anywhere, and especially on all four paws! I had to leave before I thought more thoughts I didn't want to be thinking.

  The room sat on the second floor, but vines grew close to the window. I caught some in my hand and pulled. It didn't give an inch, and beneath the vines was an ancient, but sturdy lattice. I climbed onto the thick window sill and glanced between the closed door and the ground fifteen feet below me. The coast was clear. I gingerly climbed onto the lattice and breathed a sigh of relief when it held my weight. I wasn't exactly an elephant, but in a weighing competition with a feather I wouldn't win. I climbed down the lattice as quickly and quietly as I could. The vines dropped me beside a window on the side of the house. I heard voices and ducked into the bushes.

  "If you believe you can win her heart by keeping her a prisoner in this home than I am afraid you will be sorely disappointed," I heard Mrs. Fuller's voice comment.

  "What other choice do I have? If she is turned loose Morgan may kill her. No, the safest place for her is here," Mark insisted.

  "You mean the place where you can best keep an eye on her?" his mother guessed.

  I cringed against the wall when I heard faint footsteps approach the window. Mark's voice spoke from just above my head. "I'll admit the beast inside me wants to take her now, but I won't allow it."

  "Then you must allow her some time to think her situation over and some room to breath," his mother suggested.

  "Maybe. . .maybe tomorrow after the change," he agreed. He strode away from the window. "Tomorrow when she can smell me then perhaps she will accept me as her mate."

  I snorted. Not if I could help it. I crept away from the window toward the front of the house. At the front I dashed from tree to tree and after a few tense minutes I arrived at the gate. The bars were too close together to slip through and there were no cross bars to climb to the top. I looked down one side of the wall to the other. There was nothing-wait! One of the trees grew a little too close to the wall and its limbs stretched out toward the top.

  I hurried along the brick wall to the tree, and glanced up into its tall branches. The gardener did a good job of cutting the lowest branches to foil my climbing, but I was so close to freedom that I would have used my teeth to climb the trunk. Fortunately, the bark was thick and stuck out at odd angles, making for some sharp but firm hand holds. I carefully climbed my way up the bark to the lowest branch and crawled onto the thick arm. It led to the wall, and I shimmied my way across the branch to the brick wall.

  That's when I heard the howl. It came from the house, and it didn't sound happy. I scurried the few feet across the branch and dropped onto the wall. Through the branches I could see a figure rush out the front door and around the side of the house. I didn't have to have super eyes to guess it was Mark, and he was sniffing me out.

  I glanced over the side of the wall. A ten-foot drop. I took my chances with the drop rather than the angry wolf, and pushed off. The landing was hard and one of my ankles twisted a little, but not enough to stop me from sprinting away from that terrible house. The tree-lined road was empty except for the occasional fancy car, but after a block I entered the more familiar territory of apartment buildings and suburbia.

  I also had someone tailing me. I glanced back at the end of the block and saw Mark deftly jump down from the wall where I had come. He glanced up and down the block, and his eyes found mine on the upside. The tempo of my heart changed from marching band to guitar solo and I rushed up the street. I didn't need to look behind me to know he followed. He'd made it clear he wasn't going to let me leave.

  I raced across the increasingly busy street and spotted my savior. A taxi, and one not driven by Roger. I waved my hands wildly above my head and was relieved when the brake lights turned on. The cabbie was a little surprised when I slid in and slammed the door.

  "Step on it!" I yelled at him.

  "What's the hurry?" he drawled.

  I glanced back and saw Mark just twenty yards behind us. "My husband's coming! Please hurry!" I lied.

  The cabbie looked through his rear view mirror and frowned. "Why didn't you say so?" He stepped on the gas and away we flew. I continued to look behind us and my eyes widened when Mark quickened his pace to match the car.

  "He's catching!" I yelled to the driver.

  "Not for long," the cabbie replied. He stomped harder on the pedal and we slowly pulled away from Mark. I breathed a sigh of relief and slumped in the seat. "What were you two fighting about to make him so mad?" the cabbie wondered.

  "A separation," I replied.

  "Where you want me to take you?" he asked me.

  I frowned. My apartment wasn't safe, and going to the police wasn't an option. "I've got a friend I can stay with."

  I gave him the address and in a half hour the cab stopped in front of a nice apartment building between uptown and the location of my old home. I paid the man with the last bit of money I had in my pocket and strode into the lobby. It had linoleum floors covered in thin but clean carpets, and at the back was a pair of elevators. By this time it was at the end of the noon lunch hour and I hoped he took his meal at home today. My prayers were answered when one of the elevator doors opened and Johnny stepped out.

  His eye
slit up when he noticed me, and we met halfway across the lobby. "What are you doing-"

  I clutched onto his shirt and glanced around the lobby. Nobody was in there, but I feared everyone. "Please hide me," I whispered.

  "What? Why?" he asked me.

  "I'll explain in your apartment," I promised.

  He raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "All right, come with me."

  Chapter 9

  We rode the elevator to the tenth floor and he showed me into his clean, white-walled apartment. It was twice the size of mine with two bedrooms, a real living room and dining room, and a modern kitchen. I collapsed on the couch and wrapped my arms around myself. I was safe, but I wondered for how long.

  "I'll be right back, I just need to make a call," Johnny told me. He slipped into the rear bedroom for a minute, and when he came out he sat down beside me. "Now what's this all about? I thought you were sick," he reminded me.

  I shook my head. "No, I. . .I ran when you talked about what happened last night. About the incinerator and the people."

  "I'm sorry if I upset you-"

  "No, it's not that. It's because I saw what happened to those people last night, and I think I'm the only witness to the murders," I revealed.

  Any laugh he would have made at my joke died on his lips when he saw my shivering. "You're serious, aren't you?"

  I nodded. "Yeah, and nobody's going to believe me."

  "Why not?" he asked me.

  "Because. . .because the people who murdered all those other people were-well, were upper crust and that the police were in on it." I wasn't going to risk his being I was insane by mentioning werewolves.

  A shadow passed over his face. "Okay, now you can't be serious. This sounds like a terrible conspiracy," he protested.

  I clutched my head in my hands and shivered. "I wish I wasn't serious. Oh god, I wish I wasn't," I sobbed.

  Johnny rubbed my back with his hand. "Hey, easy there. No matter what happened you're safe here," he comforted me.

  I sniffed up my snuffles and smiled at him. "I know, that's why I came here. I knew you'd hide me."

  He frowned. "Hide you from the police?" he guessed.

  "Yeah. I tried going to a precinct downtown, but the lieutenant there led me into the alley behind the building and he was going to-well, I don't know what he was going to do, but I don't think I was going to like it," I explained.

  "So you've been running from the police since you left work?" he wondered.

  "No, one of the people picked me up and took me to their home, but I escaped," I told him.

  "Do you think he followed you here?" Johnny asked me.

  "No, I don't-" I paused and furrowed my brow. My eyes slid over to Johnny. "How'd you know it was a guy?"

  His face paled. "B-because you said it was."

  "No, I didn't. I said one of the people picked me up and I escaped. I didn't say it was a guy," I argued.

  "Well, maybe I just thought it was a guy. Anyway, we need to keep you from the police. They probably have a team out searching for you," he insisted.

  I slipped from his hand and stood over him. "How'd you know I was running from the police since I left work?"

  "What else would you be doing? Now calm down and let's talk this over." He stood and reached out for me, but I backed up.

  I slowly shook my head and kept my eyes on him. "No, I think we've talked enough, but you're not telling me everything. What's going on? How do you know all this stuff?"

  He laughed, but the noise sounded forced. "This is nonsense. It's all just lucky guessing. Now let's just sit back down-" He lunged at me, but I raced around the couch. Johnny turned and grasped the arm of the couch. His expression was tense and his eyes flitted to the door behind me. "Come on, Danny. They told me everything and they offered to help you."

  "Who told you what?" I questioned him.

  "The people you met last night. They said you were sick and were going to tell stories, and they could help you," he told me.

  My eyes widened. "The Foundation? You're believing a bunch of werewolves that I'm crazy?" I accused him.

  He snorted and slowly inched his way around the couch. "Werewolves? There are no werewolves. It's just the illness. They said you were bitten by somebody's dog at the party and you needed to be taken to the hospital."

  A knock at the door behind me distracted me for a moment. Johnny took advantage of the situation and jumped me. His arms wrapped me in a tight hug and looked to the door. "Come in! I have her!" he yelled.

  The door swung open and Lieutenant Goodman and four people in plain clothes swarmed into the apartment. The four people rushed Johnny and me. They tore us apart and divided themselves to two held my arms and two held his. The lieutenant was the last one inside, and he shut the door behind them.

  Johnny struggled in their grasp and scowled at the lieutenant. "What the hell's going on here? You said she was sick and needed a doctor," he reminded them.

  The lieutenant strode over to him and smiled. "She is sick, but the matter will be settled not by medicine but by the Foundation," he explained.

  "The what? What the hell are you talking about and why the hell are these guys holding me? I'm not sick," Johnny demanded to know.

  "No, but you do know too much. That's why you have to come with us, you and Miss Lyman here," Lieutenant Goodman replied. He nodded to his men, and one from each of the pair pulled out a cloth.

  I smelled chloroform and tried to pull from their grasp, but they held me in vice-like grasps. Werewolves, no doubt. The men put the clothes over our mouths and in a few moments I was out like a light.

  The next I knew I was being dragged by the arms between the two fellows down a long hallway. My hands were cuffed behind my back and my feet were tied together. There was a luxurious rug beneath my feet and on either side of us were wooden doors with name plates. Behind us was the closing doors of an elevator along with Johnny and his captors. In front of this small group strode Lieutenant Goodman. At the end of the hall was a pair of double doors, and we traveled through these into an office fit for the Sun King.

  The rugs were of the most expensive cloth, tapestries hung on every wall, and vases from various Chinese dynasties sat atop pedestals that looked like they came from Ancient Greece. All of it bespoke someone of great importance, or just someone who believed they were that important. I thought the latter when, through another set of double doors on the right, the man from the stage, Morgan, entered the office. He wore a suit impeccably clean and black.

  "Is your side profession as a funeral parlor manager?" I quipped.

  Morgan stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me like he wanted me the same as his tracks, dead. The glare was only for a moment before his smile returned and he gestured to two chairs in front of a large, heavy-looking oak desk opposite the entrance doors.

  "If you would take a seat," he offered Johnny and me.

  I snorted as we were dragged to our chairs. "Like we have a choice," I muttered. They plopped us in our chairs and the pair of guards stepped out into the hall. Lieutenant Goodman walked around the desk to a large chair.

  "No, you don't, but I still prefer to ask my guests out of politeness," he replied. He took a seat on the other side of the desk in the chair that not only swiveled but looked heavy enough to withstand a tornado.

  Johnny came to when he was shoved into his chair. He raised his head and his blurry eyes glanced from side to side. "What? What happened?" he mumbled.

  "I'm sorry to have to bring you into this mess, Mr. Miller, but your friend here left us little choice." He indicated the friend as being me.

  "I didn't drag him into this," I argued.

  "I will admit that we contacted your friend Johnny here to know your whereabouts, but you implicated him by going to his apartment," Morgan argued. "However, this conversation is starting off very poorly. Allow me to introduce myself. I am-"

  "Morgan!"

  The voice came from the hall, and was one with which I was almost inti
mately acquainted. Mark. Lieutenant Goodman grabbed the handle of his gun, but at a warning glance from Morgan he didn't pull the weapon. There was a noise of a scuffle and I thought I heard a body thud against a wall. In a moment the doors flew open and Mark stood in the doorway. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were wild. He ground his sharp teeth together and his golden eyes roamed the room. They fell on me, and I cringed. I wasn't sure whether to welcome him as my savior or executioner. Behind Mark lay the unconscious guards. None of them would be

  Morgan jumped from his chair and glared at Mark. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked the intruder.

  "Why have you stolen my mate?" Mark accused him.

  "I stole nothing. She walked into my trap while she was not under your protection," Morgan argued.

  "I demand her back," Mark insisted. He marched into the room to stand behind me. His strong, sharp hands grasped my shoulders.

  Morgan smirked and his voice took on a mocking tone. "You may have made her, my dear friend, but without the permission of the Foundation. As such, she is a ronin and must prove her worthiness to us."

  "I have granted her sanctuary, and sanctuary trumps the proof of worthiness, at least until she is changed," Mark countered.

  Morgan half turned toward the tall windows behind his chair and gestured to the sky. "What is that? A few hours?"

  "A few hours too early, and I demand her back. Refuse me and I will do everything I can to revoke your status as the leader of the Foundation. You know my family has influence, and I won't hesitate to use it to oust you," Mark promised.

  Morgan glared at him and his eyes fell on Johnny. "Very well, but the human stays. I imagine he isn't under your protection, and he's a danger to the Foundation."

  "What's going on?" Johnny asked. His words were still slurred, but he was waking up.

  I glanced up at Mark and frowned. "We can't leave him! They might kill him!" I protested.

  Morgan grinned. I didn't like the long teeth that peeked over his upper lip. "We won't harm him, at least for the moment. Instead we will keep him as insurance so your creator here will return you to us after the change," he told me. Morgan walked around the desk past Lieutenant Goodman and set a hand on Johnny's shoulder. "I'm sure if Mark won't return you to us you will be able to convince him with your friend's life on the line."