by Shara Lanel
Marsha was happy to go back to being a non-employee again, but first she wanted the scoop on the whole Haden-not-Haden melodrama. Gina listened in eagerly. Of course, she was less than thrilled to hear she’d still have to close up because Kitty needed to track down her car.
The thing she wasn’t telling either of them was that she was afraid Haden had skipped town again. She didn’t want to think it. She’d assumed he’d be right where he’d said, running the pub…except he wasn’t.
Kitty took a cab to River Road around six p.m. and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her car sitting in the semicircle drive. She paid the cabby and trotted up to the front door. Haden didn’t answer the bell, so she knocked. The sun would be setting soon, evident by the sudden cluster of gnats by the fountain, and she needed her keys at the very least. The man was trying her patience. How many other women would put up with a beau living under an alias and who was wanted for murder, then also stole their car? None, that’s how many! Kitty banged with her fist and looked around for something harder to use before her skin split open. Her heart was in her throat, and her stomach had a queasy feeling. Had she eaten today? No. Another strike against her so-called boyfriend!
If he had run off, jumped bail, after she’d put her faith in him, she was going to kill him, that was all there was to it!
The sun sank behind the tall oaks and maples adorning the property, casting the porch in shadow, though the sky directly overhead was still blue. Kitty decided to poke at the pots and the mailbox in hopes of finding a spare key, when suddenly the door swung open.
“What are you doing here?” Haden demanded. “Why didn’t you leave?” His eyes seemed to burn with an amber fire, while his face was cast in shadow from the foyer chandelier behind him. His face seemed craggier, partially from a pronounced five o’clock shadow, and maybe from lines of anger and worry in his brow and around his mouth. He looked fierce, dangerous, and Kitty suddenly wondered at the wisdom of letting the cabby leave her here alone.
“You took my car.” She cleared her throat so her voice wouldn’t squeak quite so much. “You said you had a business to run, but then you didn’t go to work.”
“You need to get out of here…now.”
Why wasn’t he inviting her in? Why wasn’t he happy to see her? What had she done?
And why couldn’t she read his mind?
She hadn’t registered that factoid at first. Not picking up images from Haden’s head was very unusual. Nothing, not even a reflection of herself standing there, not even a flare of his anger. She was completely disconnected from him.
Haden, gripping the door, glanced up at the darkening sky. A single star twinkled in the twilight. He shuddered. “Get out of here,” he said, and started to shut the door.
Kitty cried out, first a non-word of shock, then, “I need my keys!”
Haden groaned. “The moon…”
Kitty followed his gaze and saw the silver-orange disc just beginning to rise over the trees. When she turned back to see what the problem was, Haden was gone, the door still open.
“Haden? Haden! Dammit to hell! I need my keys!”
She stepped across the threshold, scared spitless because of the man’s actions. Had she read him all wrong? Was he the murderer after all? If so, then she fell under the category of “too stupid to live” if she kept walking into his house. But she needed her keys. She wasn’t going to walk all the way up River Road after dark, and houses weren’t exactly side by side in this area.
Maybe I should find a weapon?
Then she remembered the scene in the backroom, how Haden had effortlessly lifted and lowered her onto him without breaking a sweat. The man was stronger than anyone she’d ever met in her life. No weapon short of a gun would protect her against him. She closed the door behind her, locked it, and took a deep breath. Maybe she was too stupid to live, but she had to trust that her belief in Haden’s innocence wasn’t wrong.
She had to.
Just like she had to find out what the fuck his problem was!
Another deep breath and she moved forward, peeking into the empty living room and kitchen. She stopped dead when she heard the howl.
Bone chilling was exactly the word for it.
It was long, high-pitched, and completely out of place anywhere near the city of Richmond. When it ended, the silence seemed more pronounced. Kitty walked slowly down the hall toward the bedroom, listening to the scuffling and scratching sounds and the tiny whimpers. It sounded like Fergie when he was tied up against his will, like when she’d first moved into her house and had him locked in the bathroom while the moving men brought in the rest of her furniture. Maybe Haden had bought a dog. If so, was it meant as a guard dog? That could be dangerous.
The bedroom was empty, but the office door was cracked, illuminated by the light behind it, and that was definitely where the noises were coming from. Kitty checked the bathroom and closet, calling out Haden’s name softly. No answer. Finally she pushed on the office door.
And a wolf reared at her.
A wolf the size of a Great Dane, with eyes of amber fire, yelped and howled and scratched the floor. The rut in the hardwood floor was evidence that this wasn’t the first time. The close walls were covered in claw marks. The wolf’s rear legs were cuffed with some kind of high tech device with glowing lights and a timer and attached by chain to the weight machine. The front legs were free. Kitty cowered in the doorway, a mere foot from the animal, too shocked to move. Finally the wolf calmed down and sat back on its haunches, the intelligent eyes fastened on Kitty’s face. Her cheeks were damp with tears and she was having a hard time breathing, and suddenly, she had to pee like a racehorse.
She shut the door to the office and raced to the bathroom, chased by the wolf’s muffled howls. That’s when she realized the padding on the office walls was a sort of soundproofing.
“Okay, okay, Haden has a pet wolf, no biggie.”
But then, where was the man?
She went to the bathroom, washed her hands and face, then returned to the bedroom to sit on the end of the bed. The wolf alternated from seeking escape by scratching whatever it could to calm silence. She pictured him in her mind: gorgeous, sleek gray coat mixed with black and brown, huge paws, long fluffy tail and pointed ears…and the biggest, sharpest fucking teeth she’d ever seen in her life.
“Hyperventilating will not help you think better.”
All she needed from this bizarre situation was her keys. If she could find her keys, she could go home and chalk this up to a nightmare.
But she had to look in the office again, like the scene of an accident you can’t turn away from.
This time she noticed that beyond the weight machine was a desk with a computer and a leather captain’s chair. Corkboard covered the soundproofing on two sides, and pinned to that were articles and images that she couldn’t quite make out from her vantage point beyond the curious wolf. The animal again sat watching her. Just like Fergie, she couldn’t read its mind, but she knew there was something it was trying to tell her. Or maybe her subconscious was trying to tell her. Something terribly obvious that she just couldn’t wrap her mind around.
That the wolf had Haden’s eyes.
Blame It on the Moon
Chapter Twelve
How much time had passed? Kitty lay on Haden’s bed in the dark. She’d shut the office door again, noticing the heavy locks that hooked on the inside of the door, as if the wolf was supposed to operate them. The wolf had watched her curiously, without reaction. Once she’d settled on the bed, she heard it sniffing, then nothing again except its breathing and her own breathing and her gradually calming heartbeat.
Okay, logic applied meant that she should call the cops, or maybe animal control. She was sure keeping a wolf in a house was against zoning in the county. And maybe the cops should know about Haden’s disappearance. She spied the pile of shredded clothes on the weight bench. Jeans, briefs, and a T-shirt.
But he hadn’t really disapp
eared, had he?
And this is where logic and instinct disagreed. Logic told her she had fallen off her rocker. How could she think for one single moment that the animal in that room was her boyfriend? But instinct and most of the bones in her body knew that wolf.
And the wolf had Haden’s eyes.
Ohmygod, ohmygod! She thought of calling Marsha, who was sure to be the voice of sanity, or even Daniel, who’d be the law on her side, but she just knew.
She knew who the wolf was.
The wolf waited, hungry, but knowing he had to be patient. He hadn’t had time to bring in the food. He’d been distracted from even locking the door, but though he could smell the blood coursing through the woman’s veins, she didn’t smell like his prey. He hunted the sick and the weak. Game, like elk, moose, deer, rabbits. She smelled like none of those. She smelled, instead, like vanilla and home and sex and familiarity. He thought he knew her, but not in his wolf form. He sniffed again. She also smelled like fear, but he sensed that fading. Good. The scent of fear would drive him mad with hunger. Instead, he sat patiently until she came back to him.
Kitty approached the office again, opened the door. She realized the light came from a ceiling fixture. Just past the weight bench, there was a plastic dish with a two-liter bottle full of water attached to it. It was one of those dishes that would automatically refill as the dog drank the water. She’d thought of buying one for Fergie, but had never gotten around to it. No dish of food, though. The wolf had stretched out, laying its chin on its forepaws, eyes still open, watching her. She sat down Indian-style and put her own chin on her palms, elbows on her knees. Around two a.m., keys forgotten, she fell asleep, head against the wall, vaguely aware that she’d pay for this position tomorrow with a serious crick in her neck.
* * * * *
The change happened quickly. One minute he was the wolf, the next he was a naked man stretched across a scored hardwood floor, cuffed to a weight rack. And a few moments after the change, the cuffs popped open. He always checked the Internet for the exact time for sunrise so that he wouldn’t be trapped any longer than necessary. Thank God for the simplicity of the timer.
He used to wonder why it was sunset and sunrise rather than moonrise and set, but it was just one of the mysteries of his nature. Maybe if he ever tracked down someone like him, he could learn the answer. If there was someone like him anywhere.
He sat up and stretched, ravenously hungry, aware that he hadn’t had even a snack last night. Stupid of him. He usually prepared better, but something had distracted him.
Kitty.
The moment he thought of her, he grew aware of her scent, of the soft sound of her breathing and the steady thump of her heart. He turned and saw her curled up on the floor just in front of the open door, head cushioned by her hands, asleep. He wanted to carry her to the bed, make her comfortable. Would she wake, though? Would accusations begin? It was so peaceful in this moment, just watching her sleep.
He stood, stretched, muscles more relaxed than they’d been in a week. His wolf slept soundly, unencumbered by nightmares or worries, and sometimes that was just what his body needed.
He scooped the sleeping lady up into his arms and carried her over the threshold into the bedroom. She made a vocal sound, but it wasn’t a clear word, then she settled back into sleep as Haden placed her on the bed and covered her with a sheet. He lay down next to her and noted the dark shadows under her eyes. She needed more sleep and less worry. Having him around gave her neither of those.
So she had to know now. Right? Could she possibly have spent the night here and not figured out the truth? No. She wouldn’t have stayed. But if she knew the truth, why stay?
His body responded to a different kind of hunger. He’d not thought to throw on a shirt or pants. Nude suited him. He grew hard as he watched her sleep, breathed in her scent, and stared at the rise and fall of her chest under the thin sheet. He thought of placing his lips where he knew her nipples would be. He thought about the wet circles he would leave on the sheet.
“Do that to me,” she murmured, opening her eyes just the tiniest bit. “You’re turning me on with the pictures in your head.”
He reached out and stroked his hand over the sheet, caressing the mounds underneath.
He pictured himself on top of her, inside of her, her mouth open, gasping.
“Do it,” she said.
He pictured kissing down her stomach, along her pelvis and down her inner thighs. He imagined holding her clit between his teeth for a breath of time, then licking her folds. He listened to the increase in her breathing and heart rate. He smelled her arousal as it grew, and he marveled at her ability to read his mind and how the images there turned her on so completely.
He thought about opening his mouth to discuss what she’d seen, what she now knew about him, but she smelled so sexy, so welcoming. He climbed on top of her with the silk sheet trapped between their bodies. His heavy cock settled between her open thighs. His hands braced on either side of her, trapping her arms under the blanket. He leaned down and kissed a path along the side of her chin, the skin delicate and tender. He traced the shape of her jaw with the tip of his tongue and nibbled the outer edge of her ear before finally lowering his open mouth to her neck to suck at her skin.
She moaned, and her whole body undulated in response. He pressed his hips down and lifted his lips from her neck to place them on the mounds under the sheet. He bit gently at her breasts, tasting the silk instead of her skin. He listened to every response she had, every change in breath, every sigh, every groan, until he knew she burned for him.
It crossed his mind that he should talk to her, figure this all out sensibly, but his beast was barely leashed after the first night of the full moon. She was here, and she was willing. She’d never smelled more aroused, and her hips were bucking against him uncontrollably, obviously unhappy with the cloth blocking the way.
“Haden, fuck me, fuck me, please. I need you inside of me.”
He wanted to ask her if she was sure. Didn’t she think she’d made a mistake with him? Didn’t she want to run away now? But he kept all those questions inside, responding only to what she said over and over.
“Fuck me, please.”
He lifted his body into a push-up so he could rake the sheet out of the way. Kitty’s breasts were still hidden from view, this time by shirt and bra. He slid the shirt up, and she helped him by raising her arms. He didn’t bother unhooking the bra, just grasped that with the shirt and tugged. Now he could see the pert and firm mounds of her breasts. He leaned in for a taste, taking turns sucking and nipping, again concentrating on Kitty’s physical clues, the ones that signaled pleasure. She unsnapped her pants and pushed at the waistband until he took the hint and yanked them off. Once she was bare, her musky scent overpowered him, and he buried his face between her thighs, lapping at her juices, toying with her clit. He licked anywhere that would give her pleasure, around her nub, at the mouth of her vagina, inside even. She spread her legs wider and settled them on his shoulders and moaned.
“Haden, I’m ready. Come inside of me.”
He lifted himself up, poised to bury himself inside of her. Last time they hadn’t used protection. Did she realize that? Once was a mistake, but he wouldn’t risk it again, so he clawed at the drawer, found a condom, and put it on. Her fingers rhythmically squeezed his biceps as she waited, until finally he entered her.
Heaven.
The magnetic pull of the moon called to him from beyond the horizon. Power rolled through his body as he thrust into Kitty, and suddenly he was afraid of losing control.
“Haden, I feel…something.” She couldn’t have said what it was if her life depended on it. It was an intensity, a glowing, a heat, but none of those things. It was a connection, like drawing the power of the moon into their bodies. It was memories, ancient memories shared by the wolves, instinct, scent, hunting, the kill. All beautiful, natural, glorious.
Kit’s orgasm took her by surprise. O
ne minute she was bathed in the moon’s glorious power, and the next she was back in her body, replete with pleasure, sated, shaken. She kept her legs clutched around Haden’s thighs as he tensed. One final thrust brought him to climax as well. It was only then that she became conscious of the aches and pains brought on by a night on the floor ‑‑ she vaguely remembered falling asleep in the little room with the wolf’s intent stare on her. Haden collapsed on her for just a moment, his weight comforting, but then he rolled away and sat up.
She watched as he stripped off the condom, keeping his back to her. His shoulders seemed higher than normal, tense. He stalked to the bathroom, and she felt his anger, though she still couldn’t see the thoughts in his head.
The anger hurt a little. Why was he angry at her? Hadn’t he enjoyed the sex?
Of course, dingbat. This has nothing to do with sex.
She listened to the water run as she sat up and redressed. Keys. She’d feel better if she had her keys in hand, even if she didn’t leave. It would be cowardly to leave, just like it was cowardly to hide in the bathroom. Men tended to either throw keys down somewhere or put them in their pockets. Haden’s jeans from yesterday were in the small room, so she went in there and patted them down. The answering jangle yanked a sigh out of her. Thank God. She put the keys in her own pocket, then went out to sit on the bed. The man couldn’t hide in the bathroom all day.
Haden appeared, dressed in a fresh pair of jeans. Kitty could finally see the pictures in his mind again, but they were even more disjointed than usual, and some were even in black-and-white. She saw a forest and heard a rapid heartbeat, smelled the foliage and the blood, heard the crackling of branches underfoot, saw the white moon through the silhouetted leaves. The color images showed her Haden as he skulked out of the motel room with her keys, and the scenery he passed on the drive back to Richmond.
“Are you ready to talk?” Kitty asked. “Because I sure as hell am.”