Wolfsbane: Aspect of the Wolf

by Jennifer Colgan

  When she looked at him, Emilie felt a familiar ache low in her belly. The attraction to him still existed, but the clawing, biting she-wolf that had begged him to ravage her last night had vanished. In its place had settled a mild self-consciousness that bordered on embarrassment. She'd done things with him, gone places she'd never gone with another man—never thought she would go. What could he possibly think of her?

  He stretched and groaned. “Maybe we'll need that spell reversal after all. Or maybe it will wear off in a couple of days."

  "Do you think we should just wait for it to wear off? What if it happens every month?” Her voice rose as she considered the consequences. Would they tear each other apart for two more nights, then just get over it and go their separate ways?

  "I don't know, Em. I can't think straight right now.” He put his hand on her shoulder.

  The familiar touch seemed right, comfortable, yet her nerves flared and her muscles tightened. Involuntarily, she shrugged away from him.

  "I want to check on Vance,” he said. “Then I'll make us some breakfast and we'll work this out. It'll be all right. Won't it?"

  She nodded. “I'll meet you downstairs. If you find my underwear..."

  He grinned, which made her blush. “I think you left your panties in the shop."

  "Oh.” She watched when he climbed out of bed, leaving the sheet behind. Yes, the attraction was definitely still there. She bit her lower lip as he bent to retrieve his pants, then rummaged in a bureau drawer.

  "Could I borrow another one of your shirts?” she asked.

  "Help yourself. Top drawer, shirts. Bottom drawer, underwear.” He laughed. “On that note, I guess I'm glad we ended up at my place."

  Her heart ached as she watched him cross the room. He stopped at the bedroom door and turned, a sober look replacing his smile. “Uh ... the fact that we didn't ... use any..."

  "Protection.” She her stomach rolled. “I'm on the pill."

  He sighed. “That's good. Not that I—"

  "I know we should have."

  "Well, magickal side effects tend to eradicate logical thought."

  Emilie wanted to laugh. There stood the petition writer, the three-piece-suited investment broker disguised as the man with whom she was falling in love.

  "Why don't you call Charlotte and see what you two can cook up by way of an antidote?"

  "Good idea.” Great idea. Emilie definitely needed an antidote for what she felt for Daniel. And fast.

  * * * *

  Breakfast at the Garrison house was quick and silent. Vance joined them, looking morose. He explained, between sips of coffee, that he'd gone to see Bethany but she hadn't been home. He'd waited outside her apartment all night and had finally given up and come home at daybreak.

  Emilie apologized to him again before she rose to leave, her nervous stomach full from half a bran muffin and a few sips of orange juice. Daniel walked her to the front door and gave her a quick kiss.

  "Let me drive you home,” he said.

  "I could really use the walk. I'll be fine."

  "Call me.” He looked a little lost, sweet, tired and too damn sexy for his own good. She kissed him back.

  "I will."

  * * * *

  At home, Emilie found Charlotte asleep on her couch. Her cousin woke as she tiptoed past.

  "Maybe you should pack an overnight bag the next time you see Daniel.” Charlotte sat up and stretched, then eyed the gray T-shirt Emilie had borrowed. “I know that's not your shirt."

  Emilie read the upside down words—the caption, “Property of the nearest blonde,” hung mid-torso—and moaned. “This was the first thing I pulled out of the drawer.” She plopped onto the couch and put her feet on the coffee table. “I need help."

  "My rates are reasonable and I happen to have an opening in my schedule,” Charlotte quipped as she mimicked Emilie's posture. “Where would you like to begin?"

  "I don't need therapy. I need an anti-love potion. Something to cool me off and keep me away from Daniel. Whatever happened during the spell the other night has taken over both of us, and I don't know what to do about it."

  "Anti-love potions are tricky. They're best reserved for psycho-love, like stalkers and such. You could end up hating each other."

  Emilie gave Charlotte a sidelong glance.

  "Besides, are you in love? Or just lust? If a spell like that backfires, you could end up finding him utterly repulsive and still feel compelled to jump his bones every time you see him."

  "What am I going to do, Charl? I've never felt like this. It's like having something inside gnawing at me. It hurts."

  Charlotte stared at her with the Swanson eyes, sympathetic but stern. “Pull yourself together, girl. Get rid of that stupid T-shirt and take a long hot shower. I'll open up the shop for you, and when you get there, we'll work on something that will cool your jets and help you put things in perspective."

  * * * *

  "Why don't you come to the office with me?” Daniel asked Vance. He paced back and forth in the kitchen, feeling a little shameful that he hadn't insisted on taking Emilie home. He felt somehow incomplete now, jittery and at loose ends. Maybe she was right about needing a long walk.

  Vance grunted.

  "How about a run around the park? Then we really can work on the Peterson Portfolio?"

  His brother only blinked.

  "Come on! You've got to get moving or your arteries will harden!” And Daniel had to keep moving to keep his thoughts off of Emilie and how much he hated letting her go this morning. He already had gotten used to seeing her in his clothes, and she looked amazing, draped in an oversized T-shirt, her hair mussed and her big green eyes sultry and sleepy. She glowed this morning, and he felt a surge of male pride that he'd done that to her. He wanted to do so much more.

  "She was out all night,” Vance said, rising to dump the last of his coffee in the sink. “Who could she have been with all night?"

  Like a bucket of cold water, Vance's pain washed away Daniel's growing lust. Back to reality. Focus, focus, his mind commanded. “Bethany's parents live over in Carrington Heights, don't they? Maybe she went over there."

  "I called them. No answer."

  "What about her girlfriends? She probably spent the night eating Häagen-Dazs and begging them to let her call you. You know how women are, they rally when relationships fall apart and they...” Had he said, “fall apart"?

  Vance glared at him. “That's good. I feel so much better now. Hey, speaking of women—who put claw marks in the wallpaper next to the couch?"

  Daniel coughed and looked away. “You're the one with claws, not me."

  "Come on."

  "It's nothing. The spell seems to have affected us a little bit. We got ... carried away."

  "Aspect of the wolf,” Vance said under his breath.

  Daniel shook his head, not because he disagreed with his brother, but because he didn't want to believe it. He'd kept his one-quarter werewolf blood under control all these years and now, because of Emilie's spell, it had broken loose. Even now, hours after moonset, his body hummed with unspent energy. He felt like a jet engine, ready to take off.

  He needed a good run, a hot shower ... and he needed to get his hands on Emilie again. The wolf wasn't satisfied. He'd claimed her, bruised her with his lips, bitten her and devoured her over and over, and still he needed more.

  "I can control it,” he said, more to reassure himself than Vance. “I know I can."

  His brother shrugged, unconvinced. “Maybe you can, but can Emilie?"

  * * * *

  "Give him this. Make sure he drinks all of it and you drink all of yours.” Charlotte corked two small bottles of the potion she and Emilie had cooked up. In the cauldron that sat between them, the remains of the red liquid still bubbled over a low flame. The steam smelled like licorice and chamomile.

  "Do you think just a calming potion will be strong enough?” Emilie held up the bottles and looked at her cousin through the glass. She
'd wanted something that would cure her attraction to Daniel completely, not just quiet the urge to tear off her clothes whenever she saw him. She didn't want love as the side effect of a spell.

  "This will be fine.” Charlotte patted her arm. “Anything stronger and you might develop the urge to push him off the pier."

  "I'd better take this to him before moonrise. I'll bring it to his office right now."

  Charlotte began cleaning up the remnants of their spell work. “I'll watch the shop. I think I'll bottle the last of this just in case you come across a need for it in the future."

  Emilie felt a surge of panic. “Do you think—?"

  "I mean for someone else. Now, don't forget—you have to be looking at each other when you drink it, like a toast."

  "Cheers.” Emilie slid the two potion bottles into her purse. She gave Charlotte a half-hearted wave and headed for the door.

  CHAPTER 17

  "Are you going to finish that spreadsheet or are you going to look out the window all day?” Daniel asked shortly after 3:00 PM.

  Vance let go of the curtain and rose from his chair. “I'm going for a walk."

  Before Daniel could protest, he saw her through the window. Emilie stood on the front stoop, looking uncertain. Vance cast him a questioning glance when she knocked.

  Daniel's first instinct was to shove his brother out the door and sweep everything off the nearest desk. Then he'd drag Emilie inside and—

  "Maybe you should stay."

  He moved past Vance and opened the door.

  Emilie bolted inside, rummaging through her purse and babbling about herbs and incantations. He barely heard a word. The wolf awoke the moment she passed him, and suddenly, he couldn't think straight.

  He tried to focus on her words as she handed him a bottle of blood red liquid. “What's this?"

  "A calming potion. It should counter the ... effects we've been experiencing."

  "That was fast.” Why did he feel disappointment? Aside from the overwhelming desire to have his way with her, he felt great—strong, confident, invincible. He didn't want to calm down. The logical part of his brain vaguely recalled that, in psychology, they called feelings like his “mania.” Great, now I'm a maniac!

  He uncorked his bottle and Emilie put her hand on his arm. The touch galvanized him. He wanted her, not some magickal sleeping pill.

  "Wait,” she said. “We have to drink it at the same time. All of it."

  Vance eyed the bottles. “Does this come in aerosol form? A calming potion could be very useful for a few of my clients."

  "It's meant to counter the effects of a spell,” Emilie replied in a patient voice. “It won't work on non-magickal excitement."

  "Too bad."

  Daniel gave his brother a dark look. Emilie opened her bottle and tapped it against his. “Cheers,” she said.

  They both drank. Daniel gasped as the last of it burned its way down his throat. The stuff tasted like Sambuca and had about the same kick as the anise-flavored liqueur. “Packs a wallop,” he said when he regained his voice.

  Emilie coughed and fanned her suddenly pink cheeks. “Charlotte's recipe. How do you feel?"

  "Okay.” In truth, he felt no different. His body still vibrated with the same unmet need he'd battled all day. If anything, Emilie's presence had increased his agitation and the kick in the gut delivered by the potion only intensified his desires. “How do you feel?"

  "I guess I feel fine.” She kept her eyes averted.

  "How long does it take to work?"

  "It should work immediately."

  "Good."

  Vance walked in a slow circle around them. “You both look the same."

  "That's actually a good sign, Vance,” Emilie said.

  "Oh, so nobody gets to turn blue this time?” The sarcasm in his brother's voice struck a chord with Daniel. He laughed.

  Emilie did, too, then headed for the door. “I'd better get back to the shop."

  "You're leaving?” Daniel followed her a few steps, wishing he could lock her in and keep her with him all night.

  "It's probably better that way."

  "Right."

  "Call me if you feel any—side effects."

  "You, too. Bye.” Daniel sighed and leaned on the door when it closed behind her.

  "You don't look calm,” Vance said, crossing his arms over his chest. “In fact, I've never seen you wound so tight."

  "I'm fine."

  "If you want her—"

  "It's the spell,” Daniel growled, returning to his desk. “It's just a side effect and the potion will make it go away."

  "It doesn't look like it's going away."

  "It is. I said I'm fine.” Daniel focused his attention on his computer screen. “Let's get back to work. It's the best thing for both of us right now."

  * * * *

  At midnight, Emilie decided that pretending to sleep was a waste of time. Bored and restless, she rose and paced around her bedroom for a while. Then she dressed and left the apartment, careful not to wake Charlotte, who slept curled under a nest of quilts on the couch.

  The shop was her destination. She planned to make candles, brew up some luck charms and put a batch of orange slices in the dehydrator for her new “citrus happiness” potpourri.

  Her hands shook as she fit the key into the lock on the shop's front door. She thought of the third bottle of calming potion and wondered if an extra kick might be what she needed to shake free of this incomplete feeling. One more night unable to get Daniel out of her thoughts and she'd go insane.

  The moment she stepped over the threshold, she heard it. A low, throaty rumble drifted from the far side of the rack of altar cloths.

  "Daniel?” Had he come for her? Immediately, the she-wolf awoke, intrigued by the thought that her mate had come to claim her. Her body tensed and warmed for him, and she forgot to be afraid. “Where are you?"

  A snarl and a swipe of claws answered her.

  Emilie screamed. She reared back, instinctively dropping into a crouch.

  A dark shape leapt at her, bowling her over onto the floor. The werewolf rose above her, its yellow eyes aglow in the dim light from the outside street lamp. It growled and snapped its jaws at her, and Emilie kicked viciously when it pulled her under its body. The creature raised one clawed hand high above her head, and Emilie vaguely registered an object clutched in the gnarled fist.

  She thought of Daniel before the weapon smashed into her skull.

  CHAPTER 18

  "Rough night?” Vance asked when Daniel lumbered down the stairs the next morning. He felt like a truck had run him over a few dozen times.

  "Couldn't sleep. Coffee?"

  "Looks like you could use a bucketful.” Vance poured him a full mug.

  Daniel gulped the bitter brew. “I hope Emilie doesn't feel this bad,” he muttered.

  Vance rummaged through the nearest cabinet. “Aspirin?"

  A vicious pounding on the front door assaulted Daniel's head like a jackhammer. He cringed and rubbed his throbbing temples while Vance went to answer it.

  A moment later, a redheaded whirlwind flew into the kitchen. When Daniel looked up from his coffee, he found Charlotte Swanson glowering at him.

  "This time it's real blood,” she said, forcing the words out through her rage. “And the whole store is trashed. Emilie is going to freak! I don't even want to tell her."

  Daniel looked past Charlotte, figuring the cousins had arrived together to blame him for another act of vandalism. “Where is she?"

  "What do you mean?” Charlotte's freckled face blanched. She looked on the verge of panic. “I thought she was with you. She snuck out around midnight when she thought I was asleep. I figured she'd come here to—"

  "We both drank the calming potion. Why would she—?"

  "Because she's in love with you, idiot. The calming potion isn't going to cure that."

  Daniel's mind skipped past Charlotte's confession. If Emilie wasn't with her, and she wasn't here...r />
  Cold fear gripped him. “Where would she have gone?” The wolf awoke. His mate was in danger. He realized that explained why he felt the way he did. Emilie was in pain, tired, shaky and cold. He had to find her.

  Behind Charlotte, Vance grabbed the phone. “You said the blood was real this time?"

  Charlotte gasped. “Oh, my God!"

  "I'm calling the police. You two get back to the shop and don't disturb anything."

  Daniel jammed his feet into his sneakers and paused long enough to grab his car keys from the kitchen counter. Charlotte trailed him out the front door, whispering an incantation as they raced toward his car.

  "Water of the oceans, fire of the sun

  Help us find the missing one,

  Guide our hand, steer our sight,

  Help to set the world to right."

  The words ran together in Daniel's mind, and rage clouded his vision. Someone had touched his mate, hurt her and tried to take her from him. No potion would calm him now. He wouldn't stop until he got her back and exacted his revenge.

  * * * *

  The world faded back into view in shades of green and brown. Emilie smelled honeysuckle and fresh earth. Above her, birds chirped with maddening cheer, and insects buzzed. “What the hell?"

  "Good. You're awake. I was getting tired of listening to you snore."

  Emilie craned her neck toward the oddly familiar voice. The movement set her nerve endings on fire. Every muscle in her body ached, and her head pounded relentlessly. When she tried to reach up and keep it from tumbling off her shoulders, she found her hands tied behind her back. The tight bindings had cut off circulation. Her fingers felt like tingly sausages dangling uselessly from her hands.

  Propped against a tree, her feet also secured with a thick length of clothesline, she was completely at the mercy of her captor, who sauntered into view. Through a tangle of sassy blonde curls, the petite woman regarded Emilie and gave her a deceptively sweet smile.

  "Bethany?"

  "That's right.” The woman sat on the ground cross-legged in front of Emilie and shrugged. “The former ‘future Mrs. Vance Garrison,’ thanks to your meddling."

  "Huh? Oh...” Bethany the Psychopath? It just didn't seem to fit. “Don't you think breaking up with him was a bit hasty?” Emilie squirmed against her bonds. She found no play in the ropes, and the movement only made her arms and legs hurt more. “After all, we were only trying to spare you from having to plan your wedding around the full moon."