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Loup Garou
Copyright © 2006 by Mandy M. Roth
Cover by Scott Carpenter
ISBN: 1-59998-003-7
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: January 2006
Loup Garou
By Mandy M. Roth
Dedication
To Angie for seeing the potential in Exavier and Lindsay. Okay, and in me too. With your nudge they stopped hiding in my hard drive and came to life.
To Crissy for spreading your wings and allowing us to soar with you.
To the women who meet me for coffee each morning and support me through my "that zapping."
And to every man who has turned me on by playing his guitar and singing in front of millions. I’d list them all but then there would be no room for the actual story.
Prologue
The smell of my fear was intoxicating to them. I couldn’t seem to stop my pulse from racing or the light sheen of sweat wanting to develop on my palms. Both had started the moment I’d sensed the threat.
I’d foolishly been preoccupied with thoughts of attending a birthday celebration for a three-year-old boy and had allowed the group of were-panthers to get the jump on me. I knew better than to believe I could have a night without violence. A night without being stalked by creatures of the dark who wanted nothing more than to see me dead. After I helped them find their dark prince.
As if I even know who the dark prince is.
Three years was a long time to live in fear. I’d pulled back from the public eye, hoping to avoid incidents such as this but it hadn’t helped. No. They were attacking at an alarming rate. Where once it had been random, yet violent, it was now bordering on nightly.
Low growls sounded from the shadows, the places the security lights didn’t reach, reminding me I wasn’t alone. I’d counted four of them but I’d been fooled before. Two lay in bloody heaps less than ten feet from me and two more stalked me. Their supernatural senses no doubt heightened to the point they could hear even the slightest intake of breath on my part. I lacked the ability to shape shift. Part of me was glad, less shaving and all, but another part was envious. I was tired of them having the advantage. While I wasn’t weak, I wasn’t exactly a die-hard killing machine. I knew enough to get by but “getting by” seemed to be harder as of late.
I stared down at the blood-covered, colorfully wrapped birthday present. The tiny train pattern was perfect for a little boy turning three, or had been prior to me bleeding all over it. I’d found Rickie a group of engines for the wooden set he’d be opening at his party—a party I’d sworn I'd be at but would not make. Even if I somehow managed to survive, I couldn’t show up in my condition. I wasn’t sure of the extent of my injuries, being immortal tended to skew my judgment when it came to what one would consider mortal wounds, but I knew I was in bad shape.
Already, I’d lost feeling in one arm but I was thankful. Before I’d managed to kill two of them, they’d slammed me off the hood of seven different vehicles. The white-hot pain in my shoulder had now eased to a dull ache. I did my best to stay upright but went to one knee all the same. I could feel them moving in on me. They were close but still put off by my display of power. I hadn’t intended to use as much magik as I did but was grateful I had.
My gaze flickered to the dead men. I should have felt remorse for taking lives. If I lived through the night I just might have guilt. Though, with the rate they’d been attacking and what they’d stolen from me in the past, I doubted I’d have too many issues with it all. My vision blurred at the same moment I felt a familiar presence closing in on me. It radiated safety. It was also the only solace I had as I gave in and collapsed completely to the hard surface of the parking lot. I blinked and forced my gaze upwards. I didn’t want the last thing I saw in this world to be a dead were-panther. The moon would work nicely as a substitute.
Chapter One
“Tell me again who I’m meeting today,” I said, holding onto one of my closest friend’s shoulders, while I stretched my leg high in the air. The need to work the kinks out of my sore muscles before daring to go on with a day filled with exercise seemed wise when I started. Now, as I stood there with visions of caffeine dancing through my head, I began to second guess myself. Coffee was up next to sex on my list of things I’d rather be doing. So far, my caffeine intake was lower than should be. I thought about wearing a button warning others to exercise extreme caution when dealing with me but with the skimpy outfits I wore to workout in, there really wasn’t a lot of places I could pin it to.
“Exavier Kedmen, he’s the front man for the rock band Loup Garou,” Myra said, never missing a beat.. She was a machine when it came to her quest to keep me on track and I loved her for it. At least one of us knew what the hell I was supposed to be doing. I was happy when I remembered what day of the week it was. I’d say it was an exaggeration but I’d already thought it was the wrong day twice and had only been awake a little over an hour.
“I love the name Exavier. I once knew a boy with that name.” Slight understatement if I’d ever heard myself voice one. I'd more than known that Exavier. He’d been my best friend, first love and greatest let down. Too many years had passed to bother thinking hard about it now. I missed him and most likely always would. Since I hadn’t seen him since I was seven and he was ten, it was safe to say he’d had an impact on me. Sighing, I dipped my head down and pressed my forehead to Myra’s shoulder. Thankfully she was tall too. She made a wonderful mobile “post” for me to hang on to. I’m sure she’d rather I not do it but since she hadn’t verbalized a concern, I went with it.
I stared at the dark grey Berber carpeting in Myra’s office as I continued to stretch. I’d rather be staring at a latte. The carpet would do nothing to chase away my bitchiness or help me stay awake. Though it did have a rather odd and nearly impossible pattern in it.
I shook my head. If I was to the point I was willing to stare at carpet, the day was going to be a long one. At least I was in Myra’s office and not at the station in my friend Jay’s office. He was a detective and seemed to be able to locate everything but his desk with the mess he had in his office. I spent more time wondering if I saw a stack of papers move with the help of rodents and trying to figure out what the mystery odor was than I did visiting Jay. Probably why I stopped visiting him there.
Myra’s neat freak tendencies never left me concerned about things crawling up my leg. Her office was done in shades of grey with black and white accents. To me, it was depressing. To Myra, it was perfect. Whatever made her happy worked for me. She’d given up a life in corporate America to help me with the center and had never once complained.
“Why exactly is a front man of a rock band meeting with me? I’m not in the business of choreographing anymore. I’m sure the word's out by now. If not, I’m happy to spread it.”
Myra held her day planner up behind my head and ignored me. The planner was her version of a bible. I learned very quickly that touching it was begging for the death penalty. I was also informed, in the ev
ent of a fire I was to save the day planner first, small puppies and endangered species second. That involved touching the book so I was a bit confused on what Myra wanted. “You have a ten o’clock appointment with the Ferris family. They want us to protect their great-grandfather who is convinced the reaper, I kid you not, is coming for him.”
“How old is he?”
“One hundred and two,” she said, somehow managing to keep a straight face.
Grinning, I switched legs. “Would it be wrong for me to confirm his suspicions?”
“Lindsay, pretend to have a heart. It makes us all feel better about being near you.”
“Fine.” I rolled my eyes and let out a soft laugh. The man was one hundred and two. Of course the reaper was on his heels. Unless he was immortal. Somehow, I doubted it. “I still don’t know why word keeps spreading about us. It’s not like we’ve got a mystery machine parked out front with our own talking dog. Why come to us for the paranormal?”
She snorted but didn’t give me an answer.
“Anything else I need to know about? There aren’t any more surprises this week are there? I’ve had no coffee yet today and have already taken an abnormal interest in your carpeting. Please tell me my week’s looking up.”
She murmured something I couldn’t quite catch. Never a good sign. “Umm, try that again, this time in English.”
Myra rolled eyes and gave me a wry grin. “You are supposed to have dinner with your parents tomorrow night.”
“Sun sets around eight lately so I have a while to come up with a good excuse as to why I’m not going to be able to make it.”
“Lindsay!”
Grinning, I kissed her cheek quickly. “You know you love me.”
Myra snickered as she thumped her hip to mine. “God help me, I do.”
“The idea of my mother trying to set me up with someone else makes my stomach tight. You go in my place. She always picks men who are right up your alley.” It was true. Myra’s idea of the perfect man was my idea of a boring one. She seemed drawn to the executives. My idea of the perfect guy generally swayed more towards bad boys with big toys. Basically, everything she hated in a man. It made for a great friendship. It wasn’t like we ever had to worry the other would try to steal our boyfriend.
“Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
“Suit yourself.” I dropped my leg down and walked towards Myra’s black desk. The oversized unit had a raised glass top with silver feet. A matching wall unit sat against the wall behind her and went to the ceiling. Every tiny paperclip had a home in Myra’s office. I moved things around once and she spent a week complaining. The temptation to do it again was great. I held back. It was hard.
“Want to fill me in on this Loup Garou guy?”
She arched a well-defined brow and gave me a questioning look. “I thought you weren’t entertaining going back into the business again.”
“I’m not.” I didn’t want to admit the second she told me the band’s name I had actually considered taking the job. “I’m curious as to why they’d name themselves after the French word for were-wolves. That’s all. Are they supernaturals?”
So many supernaturals gravitated towards careers in the entertainment industry. What better way to hide from humans than right under their noses. Plus, I’m fairly sure god complexes came into play but since I too had worked in the field, I thought it best not to dwell on the topic.
“You could always just ask the front man personally.” Myra glanced out of her office window. I did my best to follow her gaze but the light grey slotted curtains blocked my view. It wasn’t an exterior window. More for decoration than anything, it gave her a decent view of the front lobby and the reception desk.
“Right. I’m supposed to believe the guy showed up an hour early? It’s eight in the morning. Next thing you’ll be telling me is Gina is going to be on time for once today.”
Myra laughed.
Gina, another close friend of mine, who also happened to be a demon slayer, seemed to run on her own time. I stopped questioning it and started telling her that her classes were earlier than they really were. It seemed to do the trick.
I winked. “Band members do not rise before lunch. It’s like an unspoken rule. I tried to get my hands on the manual once but they keep it hidden and protect it with their lives. It’s almost as sacred to them as their guitars and groupie black books.”
The smug look Myra gave me was an all too familiar one. “Enjoy your class, Lindsay.”
“Will do. Page me if this guy happens to show. Should the Ferris family call, give them my condolences. The reaper just showed up for dear old great-granddad.” I pushed the office door open, staring at Myra the entire time I walked backwards into the lobby.
“Please tell me you’re kidding, Lindsay. I hate it when you do the mumbo-jumbo get a vibe and spit it out thing. It’s creepy.” Myra’s face paled. She ran a hand through her long, wavy hair and shook her head as she hurried out behind me. “If I find out he’s gone I’m going to pay the voodoo guy on the corner of Fifth and Pearl Street to put a hex on you.”
“Take some of my hair. He’ll need it.” I winked at her. “Oh, and be sure to tell him that I’ll pretend not to notice his power while he’s doing it. It’ll keep his ego up. He always hates it when I sense him. See if he can do anything about how sensitive my eyes are to sunlight. I’m fine with everything about myself except the fact I need sunglasses for more than a few short minutes in direct light. Try not to freak him out by telling him my dad is half-vampire though. Ooo, and give him triple if he can find a man I don’t creep out. Tell him I’ll double that too if the guy is hot and well equipped.”
Oh, yeah. Supernatural and hung like a horse. Who wouldn’t want it?
“No amount of money is going to solve the problem of you keeping a man. Stop being weird and you’ll increase your chances by about four percent, maybe.”
“Bite me.” I grinned. Egging on a female cat shifter wasn’t the smartest thing I’d ever done but it sure was fun.
Myra wagged her brows and gave me a daring smile. “Don’t tempt me.”
“Here kitty, kitty, kitty,” I said, puckering my lips and making cat noises at her.
“Ms. Willows. Ms. Willows!”
Sighing, I forced a smile onto my face as a tall blond guy with a body to die for but little more going for him rushed towards me. He was the single reason I never implemented a dress code for my employees. His love for running around without a shirt on was the highlight of my day. Since we worked at a recreation center, we could get away with next to nothing on. As I stared at his bare chest and let my gaze run down to his jogging pants, I suddenly wished I’d made him sign a paper promising to walk around in the buff. “Blair, what can I do for you?”
“It’s Brook,” he said, grinning from ear to ear, looking as though he was about to pose for a toothpaste commercial.
“Pardon?” I asked, concentrating on the way his pelvic muscles formed a V.
“My name is Brook.”
And I care about this why?
Forcing my gaze to return to his face, I patted his arm. “Yeah, right. Sorry. I’ll pay more attention to it next time. It takes me a bit to get everyone’s name down.”
“Ms. Willows, I’ve been here for two years now. You’re the one who hired me. Remember?”
Nope.
Myra snorted. I wanted to strangle her. It would be my luck to have her bear witness to yet another humiliating moment in my life. Not that I had a shortage or anything.
Deciding to rectify the situation, I pulled my sweatshirt off slowly, knowing exactly how I looked in the camouflage bikini-like, exercise top I had on. I also knew it would provide a nice little distraction. Brook was human, and they were always easier for me to seduce, not that I wanted to bed him. I just wanted him to lose track of the fact I never bothered to get to know him or his name.
As I stared at his rippling abs, I reconsidered the idea of sleeping with him. He could prove to be interesting
for about fifteen minutes or so. Humans never lasted long in the stamina department with me. My magik tended to drain them long before I was sated.
Brook’s gaze dropped rapidly. As he stared at my breasts like they were breakfast, I tapped my foot. “So, Blair…umm…Brook. What was it you needed?”
“You,” he answered softly, his gaze never moving from my breasts.
Myra and I both laughed. I followed it with a cough. He didn’t seem to notice so I didn’t worry too much about laughing at him. “Come again?”
“Umm…err…youth basketball. The attendance has plummeted.”
I nodded. “Makes sense. The weather is breaking so the kids are hanging around outside more.”
Myra leaned against the reception area’s counter. “We need a creative way to get them in here. It’s hard to compete with the guys with fancy jewelry and flashy clothes. We were doing great. Not one of our kids had been in trouble over the winter.”
Covering my eyes, I thought about the situation. “Okay, we’ll do this. Blair,” Myra nudged me, “umm, Brook, you spread the word we’re planning a big bash before school starts back in session. Let them know that every day they show up and participate in the program fully, they’re entered into the contest.”
“What contest is that?”
“The one where the winner gets to select what concert the rest of the group goes to.” I glanced at Myra. “You need to go through and find out who is hot for their age group. Get me a list of four bands—artists in alternative, hip-hop and pop genres. Make sure they’re age appropriate. Have permission slips drawn up, listing the potential groups and the type of music they play. Keep it simple so the parents don’t have to use the force to decipher what the hell we’re talking about. The bands and their music confuse me and I know a lot of them. Every kid who signs up for the program needs a guardian’s signature. I’ll talk to Lynette down at children services for the handful who aren’t going to be able to track their parents down.”
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