by Michele Hauf
What would ultimately show up on film, she wasn’t sure. Nothing, much like a vampire? Or a ghost image of the werewolf? If the ghost wolf was already transparent or some kind of filmy state, the results on film were unimaginable.
She eyed her winter clothes hanging by the door. “I’ll go out early in the evening.”
The majority of hunters would be packing up and returning home for supper at that time, yet the ghost wolf sightings had been just after dusk.
Wishing she could give Beck a call and invite him along, Daisy waffled on the idea. Her father had been adamant about her staying away from him. Yet she’d been impressed by Beck standing up to her father. He’d cowered initially, to show respect, but hadn’t been about to yield to Kai’s demands without stating his own position.
“I could like him,” she said to herself, remembering their conversation about love and like last night. Like was the goal. Love would simply be a happy bonus.
* * *
Beck had felt humiliated standing before Daisy’s father last night. He should have stood up to the elder wolf, but it had been the right choice to show respect for the man, despite his intrusion on their date. He’d learned from his father that a man must never jump to hasty violence or make judgments of a man he did not know. If Saint-Pierre didn’t want him to date his daughter...
“Hell.” Beck wandered the edge of the forest a mile from where he’d parked. “He’ll kill me if I see her again.” Or at the very least, tear him a new one with a slash of claw.
But he kind of thought Daisy liked him. Make that love. Like was something even better than love, according to her. He agreed with her definition of it, too.
Man, did he like her hot chocolate.
Did she want to see him again? She hadn’t called. But then, she didn’t have his number, nor did he have hers. He’d thought about stopping by her place today, but didn’t want to push it. Certainly, Malakai would scent him if he showed up anywhere near his daughter’s home.
Was he going to let some big boisterous wolf scare him away from the girl? Was she worth the risk?
Beck nodded. The kiss hadn’t left him. He could still feel her at his mouth, sighing into him. Clinging to his clothing and leaning in closer. Sweetly hungry. And her kisses had tasted like chocolate.
“I’m going for it,” he muttered. Because he knew a good thing when it kissed him.
Now, with the sun tracing a vibrant orange line on the horizon, he shed his winter coat and boots and pulled off his sweater. Steam lifted off his hot skin as the cold assaulted his torso and arms. He stored a waterproof backpack in a hollowed-out oak trunk. The worst thing after shifting back from werewolf form was to find his clothes sitting in a puddle of snow that had melted from the lingering body heat.
Shoving down his jeans, he shuffled barefoot in the cold snow, and when he was naked he stretched back his arms and head, breathing in the crisp night air. The world was gorgeous, and he loved breathing it in. But the very reason he stood here was enough to make him want to punch something.
And then he knew he didn’t have to. His shifted form would take care of matters nicely.
A gunshot in the distance alerted him. He judged it a few miles off. This time of day, most hunters were packing it in and heading home.
No time to waste.
Bending forward and narrowing his focus inward, Beck began to shift. His human skin stretched and prickled as fur grew in the pores and his bones lengthened. Claws grew out from his paws, and his hind legs formed into the powerful werewolf’s legs. His maw grew long, and ears twisted into long, furred beacons that picked up every movement and sound from mouse to fox, to...hunter.
Beck’s werewolf rose to an imposing height, sniffed the air and homed onto the scent of human.
* * *
Daisy kept the hunters in view, while hoping to stay out of their line of sight. She wore a vivid orange hunter’s vest over her winter coat. She’d no plans to shift tonight—not with armed hunters in the forest. But she certainly didn’t want to be so incognito that she invited a bullet.
Her camera wasn’t the best at taking night shots. And now as she leaned against the base of an oak tree, fumbling with the settings, she wished she did have something more high-powered. She’d never win the internship by handing in grainy night shots.
Thinking it would have been awesome to have someone along to keep her company on this cold dark evening, her mind drifted to Beck’s sweet smile and those entrancing blue eyes.
So maybe she was getting her flirt on with him. Felt kind of awesome.
He hadn’t called her today. She didn’t know what his number was. She thought he might have stopped by. Her father must have put fear in the handsome wolf.
Daisy decided if Beck never showed again, then that meant he wasn’t deserving of her interest. Only a wolf who dared defy her father would be worthy of her time. At least, that was the romantic version she played in her head. In reality, she knew Beck was better off staying away from her and avoiding Kai’s wrath.
Too bad. Beck’s hasty confession to loving her because she had a talent with hot chocolate had won her over. The way to a man’s heart was through food. And she wasn’t beyond utilizing such tactics. But as well, his kiss was not to be overlooked. If she never felt his kiss again, the world might never again be as bright. Heck, she’d seen fireworks during that kiss. It didn’t get any better than that.
She knew where his shop was. Nothing was stopping her from driving over to see him. “No,” she muttered. “He needs to come to me.”
A gunshot alerted her, and she whipped her head around, along with the camera. Set at its highest zoom, she peered through the lens and spotted movement. She’d turned the flash off.
There were two of them. Hunters. She saw the shotguns they held. Not aimed at anything because the wooden stocks were slung against their shoulders. And they were running for their lives.
Tilting the camera to the right, she caught a blur of white tracking through the birch trunks in the hunters’ wake.
“The ghost wolf.” Daisy tracked the blur, snapping shots repeatedly.
The frightened mortals ran within a hundred feet of her. She recognized the hunter in the lead. He had bright red hair and was known in town simply as Red, a Scottish farmer transplanted from his country to Minnesota through love and marriage. She didn’t recognize the man behind him, but he yelled for Red to hurry and get to the truck.
Then she scented the wolf. It was angry and feral, and so close she could hear its breathing. Steady, not taxed, and punctuated with vicious growls. Shaped like a werewolf, she estimated it grew two feet taller than even her father when he was shifted. It was indeed white, but a sort of filmy white, perhaps even transparent.
Remembering her mission, Daisy clicked a rapid succession of shots. When the hunters exited the forest and slammed the truck doors, the wolf paused at the tree line. It smashed out its fists to the sides, cracking the tall birch trunks, and howled. It was like no wolf howl Daisy had ever heard. The haunting noise climbed up her spine and prickled under her skin. She shivered, and sank down against the tree trunk in fear.
Her camera hand dropping to the snowy forest floor, she cast her gaze upward as the white werewolf stalked toward her.
The truck peeled away on the icy country road, its back end fishtailing until the chainless tires achieved traction.
And Daisy wished she had hitched a ride with the idiot hunters as she looked up into the ghost wolf’s red eyes.
Chapter 6
Werewolf eyes always glowed golden when shifted. Daisy had never seen the likes of these before. This wolf’s eyes were redder than a vampire’s feast.
She swore under her breath. The camera slipped out of her hand and slid across the slippery snowpack. The werewolf must recognize her scent as wolf—she hoped. But was it even the same breed as she? It was like her, and yet not. Bigger and bulkier, its shoulders and biceps curved forward in impossible musculature and ended with talons coiled into fists.
And its coloring was surreal, not of this realm. Glowy and pale, but not see-through, as she had guessed. Iridescent. From Faery? Only Faery things glowed as this wolf did. Or maybe a god such as Fenrir? Couldn’t be. According to the legend she had researched, that god had been chained until the end of time.
Its white leathery nostrils flaring, the wolf scented her, then whipped its head back and reared from her. Growling low in warning, the wolf stepped back and stretched out its arms. Emitting a long and rangy howl, it sent shivers throughout Daisy’s body. She clutched her arms across her chest and tucked her head.
With a stomp of its massive foot, the ghost wolf took off into the forest, leaving its tracks imprinted deep in the snow near her feet.
Daisy breathed out. “Holy shit, that was close.”
Holding a shaking hand before her, she assessed her heartbeat. Ready to bust out from her ribs. She shook her head. She’d take her father’s wrath over another meeting with the ghost wolf any day.
And then she checked her fear. The wolf hadn’t hurt her, hadn’t even moved to touch her. For all she knew, it could be of her breed.
“I can’t be afraid,” she said. “Only girls cry.”
* * *
By the time she arrived back in town, Daisy’s heartbeat had settled. The fear had segued to an adventurous exhilaration during her walk. She’d stood face-to-face with the ghost wolf! Her brothers would be stunned.
With adrenaline tracing her veins, she wasn’t content to go home and crawl into bed. Instead, she headed toward the west end of town where she knew Red lived. She marched up to the front door, passing the truck that hissed out steam from beneath the hood. Seeing a light on inside, she knocked.
Red answered immediately, frowned, then looked over her shoulder. As if she should have brought along an entourage?
“You it?” he asked.
“Uh, I’m Daisy Saint-Pierre, Mister Red. I heard about you seeing the ghost wolf,” she tried.
“You bet I did.”
“Would you mind answering a few questions for the Tangle Lake Tattler?” She whipped out her notepad to make it look official.
“Hell no. I ain’t talking to no one but Kare11 News. I called ’em. I thought you were it, but apparently not.” He pushed the door closed, but Daisy wedged a shoulder against it and shoved inward. “Nobody but the big news,” he reiterated, and this time managed to shut the door completely.
Daisy stepped back and stared at the door. Kare11 was the most-watched news channel in Minneapolis.
“Shoot. I should have gotten here sooner. He must have called the station as they were driving back. Couldn’t have been that scared if he was thinking about his fifteen minutes of fame.”
Daisy wandered down the path back to her car just as the Kare11 News van pulled up. She recognized the blonde reporter who got out and directed her cameraman toward the house.
The woman rushed over to Daisy and shoved a microphone in her face. “Are you related to Red MacPherson?”
Daisy shook her head. “I’m with the Tangle Lake Tattler.”
The reporter lowered the microphone. “Red didn’t give you the scoop, did he? I told him this was my story.”
“He didn’t. But I had to try.”
The woman sucked in a perfectly highlighted and blushed cheek and sneered. “Tough luck.” She spun about and marched across the shoveled sidewalk in her high heels.
Who wore high heels and a business skirt at eleven o’clock at night in the middle of January? Daisy sighed. A reporter who was always prepared to get her story, she decided. There was a lot she had to learn about the business of journalism.
But she did have one thing that might scoop them all.
Rushing back to her car, Daisy pulled away with one hand on the wheel and the other clutching her camera.
* * *
The following afternoon, Daisy opened her front door to find Beckett Severo standing there, smiling sheepishly. The frustration that had been building all day as she’d tried to understand the Photoshop program to enhance her photos slipped away. A more intriguing distraction had arrived.
And a sexy distraction, as well.
“Beck.” She shoved a hand over her hair. Hadn’t looked at it since stepping out of the shower this morning. Yeesh. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you again after, well, you know.”
“Do you want to see me?” He remained behind the threshold, hands shoved in his front pockets. “I mean, should I be here?”
“Yes.” She took his hand and tugged him inside. “I didn’t want to influence you one way or the other so I didn’t make the first move. Also, I don’t have your phone number.”
He tugged out his cell phone and pressed a few buttons, then handed it to her. “Let’s remedy that right now. Type in your number. If you give me yours, I’ll do the same.”
She grabbed her phone from the counter and handed it to him. Typing in her digits, she entered simply Daisy Blu, and not her last name. She didn’t want anything in there to remind him of her father.
“I don’t want to disrespect your father,” he said, handing her back her phone and reclaiming his. “But I couldn’t stay away.”
“Why is that?”
“That I don’t mean any disrespect to a pack principal?”
“No, I understand that completely. And I have to say I’m glad that humiliating episode did not keep you away. It must have been my hot chocolate that lured you back, right?”
“While I admit that wicked brew could certainly provide a strong lure toward you, that’s not the reason. How can a guy walk away from pink hair and fluttery lashes like yours? And you’re not like most women. You’re smart, and you have interests in things beyond shoes and celebrities.”
“I don’t know what torture king expects us to walk in those wobbly high-heeled shoes.”
“I like you in pack boots and your kitty hat. Can I, uh...” His eyes danced over her face nervously. Then he splayed out his hands. “We never got to finish that kiss before your father showed up.”
Indeed not. The man had an excellent memory, and thank the goddess for that.
Daisy stepped up to him and tilted back her head because he was tall, and she wanted to stare into his eyes all day. Until such a view didn’t matter, and she closed her eyes and tipped forward onto her tiptoes.
He met her mouth with his. A warm, sure kiss that belonged nowhere but now. She gripped the front of his sweater, beneath the open coat, and when he spread a hand up her back she leaned into him. He was so warm, and strong. The muscles beneath her hands were hard as rock, and she curled her fingers against the curve of his pecs. Yet at her mouth, everything was not hard but eager and searching. Inviting and exploratory.
He smelled like caramel and coffee. Whatever he’d had to drink before coming here, it was delicious. Beck moaned into her mouth and lifted her by the hips. Daisy wrapped her legs about his waist without breaking the kiss. He dipped his head to deepen their connection, dashing his tongue along hers. The taste of him ignited her desires. Her skin prickled, and her nipples tightened. She almost grinded her mons against his stomach but stopped herself. This was only their second kiss. And actually, it was just finishing the first kiss.
“You do that very well,” she said against his mouth. “You said something about our kiss never ending?”
“I could keep this up for years.” He kissed her eyelid, then tilted his forehead against hers. “You do things to me, Daisy Blu.”
“Good things?”
“Good. Bewitching. You make the wolf inside me want to howl.”
At that moment a wolf howled on the television turned to low volume before the couch.
Daisy laughed. “Appropriate timing.”
“You watching a nature show?”
“No, I’ve had the news on while I’ve been trying to figure out how to make a computer program pair up with my camera.”
Behind them the news anchor reported on last night’s encounter between two hunte
rs and the ghost wolf.
“Kare11 can suck it,” Daisy said. She slid out of Beck’s grasp and picked up the TV remote and clicked it off. “I almost had an interview with one of those hunters last night. I should have told him I was with Kare11. He’d only speak to them. How’s that for sucky?”
“Last night? You were out looking for interviews? How quickly does word get around when something like a white wolf stalking hunters happens?”
“Pretty fast. But even faster when it’s witnessed firsthand. I was there.” She spun, and her enthusiasm over what she’d witnessed last night made her bounce on her toes. “In the forest. I got a few shots of the hunters running in fear from the ghost wolf, and—you’ll never believe this—I actually photographed the ghost wolf. They’re too blurry, though. Nothing I can use unless I figure out the computer program. I’m so not tech savvy.”
Beck’s mouth hung open for so long, Daisy wondered if he’d slipped into a sort of catatonic state. When finally he swept a hand before him and clenched it into a fist, he blurted, “What the hell were you doing in the woods again? Alone? I thought I told you that was dangerous?”
“I’m fine. See?” She spun before him, not about to let the big tough male treat her like a helpless female. Been there, done that. Learned to punch the lug in the gut. “And you know what? The ghost wolf walked right up to me. Sniffed me, even.”
“Daisy! It could have killed you.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. I’m ninety-five-percent sure it’s a werewolf. Except bigger. And stronger. Its muscles were just so much...” she caressed the air in the shape of the wolf “...more. And you know, it really does kind of glow. It’s white and transparent. Maybe iridescent—”
“I can’t listen to this. Daisy, what would your father say? Does he know you go wandering in the woods alone at night where hunters are waiting to shoot their prey? You being just such prey.”
“I’m no man’s prey. I wore an orange vest. It’s not the hunters I worry about. Besides, I went in human form because I needed to get the shots. Why are you getting so bent out of shape about this? I’m a reporter. Or I hope to be. I’m doing what is necessary to win the internship.”