by Tina Donahue
As quietly as she could, Gwen pushed to a sitting position and looked over. The numbers on her digital clock glowed red in the gloom. Nearly an hour and a half had passed since she’d left the hospital and all that weird shit that had happened in the alley.
So what now?
Steeling herself, she turned and stared at her bath.
The decorative nightlight was on, its Christmas-tree design a mixture of red, green and silver, casting the room in a festive glow.
Gwen’s heart banged against her chest. In front of the sink he stood, running a washcloth over his bare arms, as sinewy as she remembered. His naked back was broad and muscled, a male in his prime. He’d pulled his jeans back on and his running shoes, unless he’d never had them off to begin with.
Her hand dipped down, heading for her cunt, though not yet touching it. Gwen wasn’t certain she wanted indisputable proof that he’d entered her and had climaxed, spilling his ejaculate.
She held back a nervous groan. At that same moment, the front door jiggled slightly as though pushed by the wind. Gwen knew better. Its wood was sticking with the humidity. On a faint crack, it opened. Staci. Shit, shit, shit. Of all the nights for her to come home on time. Why couldn’t she have gone to the hospital library to study? Why hadn’t she stopped at Mel’s for a drink and a burger?
He’d heard her too. His body went still. He cocked his head as though listening.
Staci’s light steps echoed in the living room, moving toward the hall. She bypassed her room and headed for this one.
No, don’t, dammit, go back!
The uneasiness Gwen felt before returned now. She had no idea who he was or what he’d do when faced with two conscious females.
As Staci reached Gwen’s bedroom, he left the bath, his full focus on the young woman as though she was the intruder.
“Hey,” the girl murmured, rounding the jamb. “You asleep al—”
Seeing him finally, Staci didn’t finish, flinching instead as he moved toward her.
“Hold it right there,” Gwen shouted, surprised she could. “I fucking mean it.”
With her command, he stopped, his attention darting from Gwen’s face to the Lady Smith revolver she held in her shaky hands. A rash of home invasions had convinced her to buy the weapon months ago. She kept it under her spare pillow each night, using it as protection for instances like this.
Okay, maybe not like this. He was one good-looking dude. He’d carried her from the alley, away from that psycho and the wolf, brought her here, undressed her…possibly made love to her. Even if it had been no more than a dream, she’d enjoyed it. A fucking lot.
However, if he tried to harm Staci in the least, Gwen was prepared to blow his goddamned head off.
Chapter Four
He stared at the weapon in her hand, larger than what the guards used on E4 when they wanted to take down its creatures and the pleasure slaves. He’d seen more than one of his pack stagger, then fall when struck by the dart. He would never forget what followed. The guards or rulers taking aim with their crossbows, cheering as the deadly points pierced throats, hearts, bellies, eyes.
Unwilling to meet that fate on this side, he didn’t dare move. The drug’s effect had worn off the woman but wasn’t completely through her body as yet. Her arms trembled slightly, as did her breasts. Full and round, the brownish nipples constricted, reminding him of how her skin had felt and tasted earlier when he’d been in bed with her…when they’d been alone. He wanted that now, imagining those hard buds in his mouth, his tongue sweeping over their bumpy contours, pulling a soft, feminine moan from her.
“Gwen!” the other female cried.
A name? Her name? He thought as much and pulled his attention from Gwen to regard this new woman more carefully than he had earlier. She was against the wall, her body pressed to it as though she’d expected him to tear her apart.
He would if she threatened Gwen. Taking her down would be an easy matter.
She wasn’t as tall as Gwen and appeared several years younger. Her hair was long enough to fall past her breasts, its color similar to the sun on this side, the ends fanned over her pink tee. Whereas Gwen’s skin was a rich, exotic color, this female was quite pale. Only her eyes were dark, a deep brown shade. Given what he’d already witnessed on this realm, the males here would consider her beautiful, her delicate features perfect.
He preferred Gwen’s. Striking, sensual. A contradiction to her eyes, their color so very cool, like the morning sky in this realm. However, he’d seen heat in them when he’d undressed her, recalling her wanting smile, the flare of desire each time his hands lingered on her body.
“What are you doing?” the pale female cried to Gwen. “Who is that?”
“Don’t know,” she said.
“What? Are you kidding?”
“Just stay where you are, Staci. I’ll handle this.” Gwen spoke to him. “Who are you?”
Uncertain as to how his answer might affect her, he crossed his arms over his chest to prove he meant no harm.
She continued to breathe rapidly, taking in his full length, pausing when she reached the bulge between his legs. The hard line of her mouth softened. His cock got even thicker, his body aching for hers as much as he sensed hers did for him.
In the last seconds, her nipples had constricted even more, becoming hard brown peaks, accentuating the length of the tips. He dug his fingers into his arms, frustrated that he couldn’t lick or touch them.
She must have noticed his desire. Quickly, she pulled the sheet to her breasts while keeping her weapon trained on him.
“Who. Are. You?” she insisted. “Do you even understand English? Do you need me to say it in Spanish or some other…?”
He interrupted. “I’m Kuma. I understand the languages on this side.”
She blinked slowly as though waking from the effects of another dart. “Kuma? The languages on this side?”
He nodded.
Her brows drew together. “Right. Is Kuma your first or last name?”
“My only one.”
“Just like a rock star, huh?” Gwen’s expression registered her increasing suspicion. “Where are you from? And don’t you dare say Seattle. I’m not buying it with your accent. Where were you born?”
He had no idea what to say other than the truth. Hopefully, it wouldn’t frighten her too badly. “E4.”
“E what?”
Kuma inclined his head to Staci. “The female’s a member of your pack?”
Gwen made a face. “My what?”
“She isn’t a threat to you?” he pressed.
“Of course not,” Staci said. “What are you talking about? She’s my cousin. We share this place.” She started toward the bed.
Kuma stepped in her way.
Staci stopped. From the corner of his eye, Kuma saw Gwen drop the sheet and clutch her weapon in both hands again, waving it at him.
“Hey,” she snapped. “I told you not to move.”
“What’s he doing here?” Staci shouted, her attention darting from Gwen’s naked chest to his.
“How’d you find this place?” Gwen asked him. “How’d you know to bring me here?”
Thankfully, the wind had blown from her home to him. He’d simply followed her fragrance, and it had led him in the correct direction. “It bears your scent.”
“Huh?” Staci said.
Gwen gaped at him. “What kind of an answer is that?”
“How’d he get in here?” Staci cried.
He spoke before either of them became unmanageable. “I used what those on your side call a key.”
Uncrossing his arms, he gestured to the small metal device he’d left on a side table. Faint light from the outside glinted off it. Behind the furniture, the illumination created a stain of brightness on the wall. Small, dark shapes wiggled down it, a silhouette of the rain streaming over the windows.
“You dropped it,” he added to Gwen.
She glanced at her wet clothes piled on the flo
or. “You undressed me.”
Kuma nodded, recalling every moment. The wondrous feel of her dewy skin, how chilled it was from the rain, warming her with his hands and mouth, his face above hers, meeting her beautiful—
“You put me to bed,” she said, interrupting his thoughts.
“Seriously?” Staci blurted.
Gwen shot her a look, then spoke to him. “Answer me.”
He hooked his thumbs in his front pockets. “I had little choice. You couldn’t move on your own. You had trouble staying awake. The dart drugged you far more easily than it does those on my side. I saved you from the guard.”
Staci blurted, “What dart? What guard? My God, Gwen, is he saying you were attacked tonight?’
“By a guard,” Kuma repeated, his attention never straying from Gwen. “The wound from his dart is on your neck.”
Her hand flew to it. Just as quickly, she pulled her fingers away, pushing them through her hair instead.
It was a darker brown than his, far shorter too, the ends pointing in all directions, looking wild, as though she’d just run through E4’s jungle with him in pursuit. Kuma imagined catching her, them tumbling down to a bed of leaves, coming to rest in each other’s arms, their mouths touching, her nudity molded to his.
“What happened tonight?” she asked.
He regarded her breasts. With her free hand, she yanked the sheet back up, covering herself again.
“Tell me,” she demanded.
He sighed. “I already have. I saved you from the guard.”
“What fucking guard?” she growled. “Are you talking about one from the hospital? That guy in the alley wasn’t anyone I’ve seen at work before.”
Staci gasped. “You were attacked in the alley? What were you doing walking down it? You know it’s not safe.”
“It’s okay, all right? I’m fine. I’m just not sure what actually happened.” Gwen pointed her weapon’s muzzle at his groin. “But you’re going to tell me, got it? What happened out there—start to finish. Where’d that wolf go? Does it belong to you? Did you bring that damned thing in here?”
She craned her neck, clearly trying to see more of the hall.
Staci did the same, then backed away quickly, her hip hitting the dresser behind her. Figurines on top wobbled. She gave them a quick glance and turned back to him. “There’s a wolf in here?”
He nodded.
“Are you nuts?” Gwen snapped. “Where in the hell did you put it? What are you doing with a wild animal?”
He debated the best way to answer. How was a male from his side supposed to tell a female from this realm that he was the wild animal, then keep her from attacking because she saw him as an even bigger threat? Given her weapon, Gwen had the advantage…for now.
Kuma saw no choice except to talk her down, explain who—or rather what—he was. His heritage was something he’d had no control over, no different from her eye and skin color. It just was.
At last, he said, “The creature you saw attacking the guard was me.”
This couldn’t be happening. It was too damn weird. Maybe she was still unconscious and dreaming, having the mother of all nightmares.
“Do you want me to show you?” he asked. Not waiting for her answer, he lowered his hands to his jeans’ button and fly.
Staci made a strangled sound that could have been fear or arousal. “Is he going to strip?” she breathed.
Appeared that way, which made Gwen wonder if this would be the first or second time he’d done so tonight.
“Stop it right there,” she ordered, frowning at how weak she sounded. As though she wanted him in the buff. “Just take me through this verbally. Your name’s Kuma. You’re from E4. You’re not a man, you’re a…”
Gwen couldn’t continue without shivering or laughing at how outrageously screwed up this was.
“Werewolf,” he said.
Staci made a gagging noise. “What?” She spoke to Gwen. “He’s on drugs, right? I should call 911, get the cops over—”
“I’d be gone before they ever arrived,” he said to her, then asked Gwen, “Is that what you want?”
She chewed her lower lip, not certain whether to tell him to get lost or to see this through, whatever it might be. He wasn’t on drugs as Staci had claimed; his eyes were too clear, his touch too enticing, at least those parts of it she recalled. He was as sober as she was. His thought processes, however, were definitely off. Maybe he was a psychiatric patient…an extremely hot one who thought he was a wolf, having seen the one in the alley.
Where had it come from? Where had it gone?
Didn’t matter, as long as it wasn’t in here, and it was not. The damn thing would have been jumping on her furniture, destroying it, leaving its drool all over the place. There were no sounds of crashing glass or splintering wood, only Staci’s rapid breathing and the pounding rain breaking the quiet.
“Do you?” he murmured when Gwen didn’t answer.
His manner was nonthreatening, his baritone gentle. Despite Gwen’s misgivings, she couldn’t deny that he had seen to her safety after the attack tonight. Her being here proved it. So did the cruel scratch marks on his arms.
Lowering her revolver, Gwen pushed to all fours to get a closer look at his injuries. In the gloom, the lacerations appeared black. She recalled when he’d been in the bathroom. He must have been washing the blood off. If those gashes were from the wolf, Kuma would need rabies and tetanus shots. She stated the obvious. “You’re hurt.”
Her breasts appeared to entrance him. His Adam’s apple bobbed with his hard swallow. “I’m fine.”
Spoken like every other man she’d ever known, so macho they’d deny a bullet to the heart. “Screw that. You’re still bleeding.”
He ran his fingertips over the wounds. They narrowed instantly, closing to thin lines as they healed.
Gwen gaped. “Oh my God, how’d you do that?”
“Do what?” Staci asked, moving toward him.
Kuma regarded her. She stepped back and flapped her hands. “I won’t come any closer. Don’t hurt me.”
“He won’t,” Gwen said, even though she didn’t reach for her gun again. Somehow, she knew she wouldn’t need it…at least not against him. “I don’t understand any of this. What you just did, it was a trick, right?”
“No.”
“Then how—”
He interrupted, “The experiments the rulers conducted on my kind millennia ago allowed us to heal ourselves to some extent, as long as the wounds are superficial. For serious injuries…” He stopped, a pained look racing across his face.
“What?” Gwen asked.
His expression changed, as though he noticed her again. “The rulers wanted to use my ancestors to benefit their kind as warriors, fighting whatever battles they faced. They bred us for strength, resiliency and intelligence. We’re able to adapt quickly, learning customs, languages, whatever we need to survive.”
Their kind? His kind? Rulers? Gwen forced down a swallow. “I get it that you’re not from here.” It took her a moment to continue. ”That is, Seattle or this country.”
“This plane,” he said.
That didn’t sound good at all. Before Gwen could stop herself, the words rushed from her. “Are you saying you’re from another planet?” Was such a thing even possible?
“Not another planet,” he said. “Another realm. E4.”
Staci moaned.
“It’s okay,” Gwen said to her, not wanting her cousin to make this worse than it already was. He’d just healed himself when that wasn’t at all possible, and now he was claiming to be from another realm, whatever the fuck that was. How could that be? Did this country’s scientists know about this? Had the nitwits caused the phenomenon?
“No matter how shocking you find what I’m telling you,” he murmured, “it’s the truth.”
That remained to be seen. “Where exactly is this E4 realm?”
“Beneath your plane, closer to the planet’s core. From the stor
ies my ancestors passed down, there are five dimensions on this planet. The one we’re on now is known as E1, the nearest to the sun.”
And E4 was called that because it was three realms down? Made sense in a crazy sort of way, not that Gwen wanted to believe any of it. She stared at his arm again. What he’d done had to be a trick. Maybe he performed as a magician when he wasn’t in alleys, carrying women home after psychos had attacked them.
“You sense I’m not one of your kind, but you want more proof,” he said.
“What’s he talking about?” Staci asked.
Gwen lifted her shoulders. “What proof do you have?”
He rested his hand on the metal button of his jeans. Was he going to strip now and show her his goods? Gwen had no doubt they’d be as magnificent as the rest of him. His biceps were deliciously toned, his smooth chest solid with well-defined muscles, his belly flat, the bulge behind his fly weighty, his balls and cock no doubt pendulous, smelling of—
“Watch out!” Staci warned.
Gwen froze as he approached the bed. To her surprise, he didn’t reach for her gun, nor did he strip and give her some much needed loving. He simply held out his hand to her, palm up. His fingers were long, the tips blunt.
Snatches of tonight returned, his hands tracing her body’s contours, his fingers tugging at her nipples, dipping between her legs, demanding yet pleasuring.
An intolerable urge to press her face to his palm and kiss it gripped Gwen, until she saw what couldn’t be possible.
Leaning back, she turned on her ceramic lamp, then took his hand in both of hers, studying it in the pale light.
“What is it?” Staci asked.
Gwen couldn’t speak. He had no lines on his palms. His fingerprints, if you could call them that, were a single round circle at the tip of each digit. He hadn’t been kidding. He wasn’t from anywhere near what he’d called this realm…dimension…plane.
He must have sensed her fear, because he curled his fingers over hers, a decidedly tender gesture given his raw masculinity and size.
Gwen lifted her face to his and whispered, “Who are you?”
Chapter Five