by Kathy Love
Elizabeth shook her head and smiled slightly, already feeling camaraderie with the old man.
“Elizabeth,” called Jolee as she came down from the back of the bar. The sound of her full name on someone’s lips other than her brother’s gave Elizabeth pause.
She was used to thinking of herself as Elizabeth-somehow she’d always managed that. And Christian calling her Elizabeth was just natural. But everyone else, for years and years, had called her Lizzie. Somehow that nickname had been easier, as if Elizabeth had died with her family and Lizzie had been born. But now, people wanted Elizabeth back. She was just afraid that person was gone.
She cast her thoughts aside and forced a smile at the tall, beautiful redhead. This woman was now her family, too. Another wave of guilt and anxiety coursed through her, making her shift on her bar stool. Jolee probably knew all about her. Or rather all about the “other” Elizabeth. Another person who expected her to be someone she no longer was.
“How are you?” Jolee asked, her slow, drawling accent and her wide, warm smile making it impossible to believe she was a vampire.
Elizabeth supposed a vampire with warm southern charm was as appropriate as one with aristocratic, European charm, making her brother and Jolee a well-suited match. Charm being the operative word to describe most vampires. Charm wasn’t a word applied to werewolves. At least, not the ones she knew.
She refocused on her sister-in-law’s question. “I’m fine,” Elizabeth said automatically.
She was so far from fine, but that would require her to reveal just how far away she was from the Elizabeth of the past.
“Is the house working out?”
Elizabeth nodded, a small but real smile touching her lips. “Yes, I love it there.” She really did, even if she had been edgy and tense since moving there. “West Virginia is beautiful.”
Jolee grinned back, and again the room seemed to fill with warmth. It was little wonder why Christian served beer in this backwater bar. Elizabeth suspected he’d do anything Jolee wanted-just for that smile alone.
“If Jolee had her way, she’d get our whole family moved to this godforsaken place,” Christian said, joining them and placing the pale beer in front of Elizabeth. Then he squeezed Jolee affectionately to temper his words. She elbowed him, but grinned at his teasing.
“Can you picture Sebastian ever leaving the city?” Jolee laughed. “That brother of y’all’s is far too in love with the perks of urban living to come here. But Rhys… ” She cocked an eyebrow like the idea of getting Rhys and his wife, Jane, to West Virginia might hold merit.
“You can work on them, then maybe Sebastian and Mina will follow.” Christian leaned in to kiss his mate’s cheek, more respect and love in his ribbing than teasing.
Elizabeth watched them, a pang of envy flitting through her. What was it like to have a relationship like that? But the notion was almost instantly ripped from her mind, replaced by an overwhelming swell of pure need. Sharp and breath-stealing. Just like the one she’d experienced in her barn earlier. What on earth was happening to her?
She pulled in a breath slowly through her nose, focusing on the bottles lining the wall behind the bar. Clear bottles, green bottles, brown bottles, a few blue, too. She tried to focus on anything but the attraction between her brother and his mate. And this raging need whirling through her.
“So is your research going well?” Christian asked, not seeming to notice her agitation. That had to be good, right? She wasn’t totally out of control.
Christian frowned, however, when she didn’t answer. “Elizabeth? Your research?”
She pulled in one more calming breath. “Umm, yeah, it’s going fine.” Everything was fine. Keep saying that and maybe it would be so.
“Are you any closer, do you think?”
Elizabeth nodded again, then took a long swallow of her beer to hide her frustration with this uncontrollable agitation inside her. The golden liquid tasted bitter, but didn’t have the bite she was craving.
Her family, her research, even her drink-nothing seemed to be satisfying as it should. Nothing reduced the feelings inside her. The strange restlessness that kept battering at her, wearing her down.
“Oh,” Jolee said, glancing back to the booth where all her sound equipment was arranged. “This song is nearly done. Please excuse me.”
She rushed back down the bar toward the karaoke system and the small stage where a woman stood at a microphone. The woman’s eyes were moving from left to right as she followed words on a large teleprompter-half-reading, half-singing them-off-key and a little behind the music.
Elizabeth twisted on her seat, surprised that she hadn’t even registered the singer. Now that the singing had penetrated her stressed brain, it was pretty darned hard to miss.
“And that was ‘Love Is Like a Butterfly,’” Jolee announced in an impressed voice, as if she’d found the off-key rendition very enjoyable. Further proof that her sister-in-law really was a kind, kind vampire.
“Now, here is,” Jolee glanced at the square of paper she held, “Jill Lewis-”
A cry of embarrassment came from a table near the stage. Elizabeth spotted the indignant woman seated with a man, who she glared at, and another couple. She continued to frown at the man as she waved her hands adamantly in the universal sign of “no.” But the signal didn’t work-the others at the table cajoled her to take the stage.
“Here we go again,” Christian said, drawing Elizabeth’s attention to him for just a moment. But before she could ask what he meant, she found herself turning back to watch the escapade.
For a second, she felt sympathy for the poor woman, who still adamantly declined to take the stage. She obviously didn’t want to sing. But then the woman stood. Maybe she would get up there after all.
Reaching for her beer, Elizabeth took a sip, and, for the first time tonight, felt a little normal. The atmosphere seemed to envelop her, as if she was meant to be there. A much-needed sense of contentment filled her. The talking, the laughter, the smell of drinks and salty, roasted peanuts. It made her feel oddly better. This was a good idea-a good distraction. Tomorrow she’d return to her research more relaxed and focused.
Elizabeth smiled as Jill Lewis finally took the stage. The reluctant woman shook her head, glaring good-naturedly at her friends.
“All right!” Jolee cheered from over her microphone, and much of the audience exploded into applause. Elizabeth clapped along with them.
Jolee started the music and the woman’s voice filled the room almost from the first note. Elizabeth recognized the tune as a song from the radio with a happy, contagious beat. And the woman sang it well-better than well. It was little wonder that her pals were urging her to get up there. She was great.
Elizabeth looked back to the woman’s table of friends to see their reaction to the woman’s fantastic singing. Two of them, a man and a woman, beamed and clapped, while the other at the table, a male, just watched. He was somehow distant from the other two. The clapping male leaned over to say something to him, and the one who only watched turned toward his friend, giving Elizabeth her first full view of his face.
Elizabeth’s smile disappeared. Desire, so strong that it almost made her cry out, ripped through her, shredding any trace of calm she’d found. Every muscle in her body tensed, every sense sharpening until her whole being was centered on the man before her.
Without saying a word to Christian, she rose. Carefully, purposefully, she zigzagged through the tables, her eyes never leaving the man. Just tables away, she stopped herself, fragments of her reasonable mind taking control. She glanced back to the bar. Christian watched her, but when he saw her looking, he busied himself by taking an order from one of the patrons.
Her brother could sense her desire now. Of course he could. Vampires could sense emotions-and she knew hers ran very strong. Shame filled her, but still her gaze returned to the male at the table.
The man was beautiful-dark hair, sculpted features, perfectly shaped lips t
hat any woman would have killed for, yet on him they were sinfully masculine. He was beyond handsome.
Elizabeth had seen many handsome men in her life, but her body had never reacted like this. Moisture pooled between her thighs, dampening her panties. Her nipples hardened, rasping the cotton of her camisole. Her mouth watered.
She swallowed. Control yourself! What was she doing?
But instead of walking back to her bar stool like her brain ordered her to, she took another step toward the table of friends. Then another. She sauntered slowly past the man’s chair, not getting too close, not drawing attention to herself-not just yet. She had to assess, she had to watch. Stalking her prey.
She lifted her head to breathe in his scent. The hint of woodsy cologne, the freshness of soap and shampoo, the minty traces of toothpaste. And a warm, rich scent-a scent that made her want to tip back her head and howl.
She continued around the table until he was directly in her line of sight-then she sat down at an empty table. Eyes trained on him, she studied him. Oh yeah, she wanted him.
For just a moment, she closed her eyes as her rational mind took tenuous control. Why was this happening? It was as if the wolf was in control. But that didn’t happen. She didn’t stay in human form and think like the wolf. She didn’t allow that. Some werewolves did. Brody did. He was more wolf than man at all times. She didn’t allow that. She didn’t.
Her eyes snapped open. The man was looking at her. She’d felt his gaze before she’d actually seen it. Their gazes met, and even in the dim light, she could see his eyes were a mixture somewhere between brown and green.
Again her body told her this was what she needed. This was what she’d been wanting. He was what she wanted. She continued to stare, meeting his gaze, until he looked away. Still she watched him. Unable to do otherwise. The need was in control now.
She was acting like a bitch in heat. And she didn’t care.
CHAPTER 3
Jensen only half-listened to the conversation going on around him. He’d thought tonight would be okay. The bar was a place he’d never been, so it shouldn’t conjure memories. But location wasn’t the issue. Oh, it definitely was at other times, but tonight, it was the company.
He glanced at the man sitting to his right. Brian Lewis, his best friend growing up. Brian had changed very little, maybe a bit thicker in the middle, broader in the shoulders. But he still had the same easygoing nature and dry sense of humor. And he still had Jill.
He glanced to Jill, Brian’s wife for… was it five years already? Jill looked the same, too. Maybe a little more mature, more refined.
An image of Jill and Katie immediately appeared in his mind. One brunette, the other blond, both in ponytails. They’d been as inseparable as he and Brian had once been. As all four of them had been. They’d always assumed they’d stay friends, no matter where their lives took them.
But sometimes it only takes one event to change the tide of a man’s whole future. Jensen had ended up in a direction far, far different from anything he’d ever imagined. Too far to get back to the person he’d been when Brian and Jill had known him.
He hadn’t seen either Brian or Jill for over three years-not until his recent return to West Pines. And even then, he’d avoided them.
But after Brian had called him nearly a dozen times, he’d realized he couldn’t sidestep them forever. Not in a town the size of West Pines. So they’d gotten together a few times. Even though Jensen quickly realized he still liked his old friends, very much, it had been difficult-so many memories revolved around these two people. Memories of…
“Oh, please sing, Jill.”
Jensen blinked, pulled out of his thoughts by the pale blonde to his right. Melanie was the woman who Brian and Jill had invited along as his date. Although no one had said that, exactly.
Jill shook her head. “No. Not tonight.”
“That’s what you think,” Brian said, wiggling his eyebrows. A gesture Jensen remembered well.
“What have you done, Brian Andrew Lewis?” Jill demanded.
“Nothing,” he assured her, his grin in direct opposition to his denial.
“You put in a song request while I was in the ladies’ room, didn’t you?” Jill drilled her husband with a look that would have crumbled a weaker man.
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Did he, Jensen? I know I can get the truth from you.” She gave a pointed look to her husband. “Jensen was always the more upfront one of the two of you.”
Jensen forced himself to swallow the sip of club soda he’d just taken, the carbonation hurting his throat. Upfront? Yeah, that showed how little they knew him now.
Fortunately, he was saved from having to respond by one of the bar employees announcing that Jill Lewis would be the next to sing.
“You,” Jill growled at Brian, although there was no real anger in her eyes. Her cheeks did flush a bright red.
Suddenly Jensen was seeing Jill as she’d looked right before the senior talent show their high school had held every winter. She’d blushed a bright red just before taking the stage.
Katie had been nervous, too, although no one would have guessed it. She’d had a way of remaining so calm, so composed. Only Jensen had known, because when he’d held her hand before she took the stage, her fingers had been ice cold and trembling.
Ice cold, trembling. He paused, his memory wandering off for a moment, to a dark place, a place he didn’t want to go. He forced his memories back to that senior show. Katie had walked up onto that stage with Jill, looking like she hadn’t a fear in the world. They’d sung “Everything Changes” by Kathy Troccoli. They’d won. And now, that song seemed strangely prophetic.
“Go on,” Brian urged, his voice distant, becoming a part of Jensen’s memory. “You know how I love to hear you sing.”
Jensen recalled how he and Brian had cheered and whistled for Katie and Jill that night.
Jill stood, her movement pulling Jensen’s attention back to the present. Her cheeks were an even brighter shade of pink, but she assented, walking up to the microphone with only a little trepidation in her steps.
Jensen forced a smile and applauded with the rest of the room, but it was only a reflexive reaction. In his head he was back with Katie, remembering her voice rather than Jill’s.
“She’s just as good as she always was, isn’t she?” Brian said.
Jensen blinked, again torn from his own memories. He glanced around, for a moment almost confused by where he was.
“Yeah, she is,” he agreed.
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, his spine straightening. He started to glance over his shoulder, expecting to see Katie right there behind him. She’d had that effect on him, bringing his body to attention just by walking into a room. But he stopped himself. She wasn’t there. He was obviously reacting to all the memories being dredged up by seeing his old friends and watching Jill sing. This was why he’d avoided them. The memories were too much.
A hint of something spicy, like an exotic mixture of vanilla and cinnamon, wafted around him, growing more and more intense until it was nearly overwhelming. He shot a look at Brian to see if he smelled the scent, but Brian’s attention was locked on his wife.
Jensen then looked at Melanie-she also watched Jill until she noticed him staring at her. She smiled, nothing in the gesture indicating she smelled the heady scent surrounding them.
He was obviously hallucinating. His memories became far too real, far too tangible, although the perfume lacing the air wasn’t something Katie would have worn. She’d liked light scents, floral scents. This smell was rich and earthy, reminding him again of dark, ground spices. Wild, exotic.
Suddenly Brian and Melanie were on their feet, cheering and applauding, and Jensen realized that Jill had finished her song. He rose, too, automatically clapping along with them. Still the scent enveloped him. What was it?
Jensen heard the others compliment Jill as she returned to the table. He even murmured h
is own praise, although he couldn’t have said what his words had actually been. Obviously coming here was a bad idea-he just felt weird tonight.
“I say this calls for another round of drinks,” Brian said, clapping Jensen on the back.
Jensen started at the affectionate tap.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I think maybe I should call it a night.”
“Man, it’s still early,” Brian said. He sounded truly disappointed. “Hell, we have the babysitter until midnight.”
Another surreal detail. Brian and Jill had children. A boy and a girl. The perfect family.
Again, Katie appeared in his mind, as they’d lazed in the grass on his grandfather’s lawn, young kids planning a big future.
“I want a boy and a girl,” Katie had stated, as if it was a given certainty.
“What if we get two boys or two girls?” Jensen had said. “It could happen, you know. I’m not a doctor, but I know about this type of thing.”
Katie had grinned. “That would be fine, too. But I know we will have one of each.”
“Jensen,” Jill said, drawing him back to the present. “Please stay. We’ve barely seen you since you moved back.”
Jensen’s first instinct was to simply tell them that he had to go. This was too much. He was overwhelmed by memories tonight. He thought he could handle it, but-he just couldn’t. But that might lead to topics he really didn’t want to talk about.
In the brief moments he’d seen his old friend, Brian had made it clear that he thought Jensen needed to move on. But Brian didn’t have all the facts. He never would.
Maybe if Jensen just stayed for one more drink, then he could escape without talking about anything too personal.
“Okay. One more.”
“Sit,” Brian urged him with a pleased smile. “This one is on me. Are you still sticking with club soda?”
Jensen nodded.
“I’ll go with you,” Jill said, joining her husband. “Wine-right, Melanie?”
“Yes,” the woman at his left answered.
As Brian and Jill headed to the bar, Jensen again wished he’d just said he was calling it a night. Said he wasn’t feeling well. That wouldn’t be a lie. Instead he was left here with the woman they had hand-selected for him to move on with.