by Desiree Holt
Dante looked at Regan and saw tears threatening again.
“You are all so kind.” She swallowed. “I’m a stranger and yet…”
Sophia reached out and took her hands. “We’re all bound together by this. We help each other.” She inhaled and let her breath out slowly. “Just be prepared. There may be other strange things you see; try not to be freaked out by them.”
Regan wrinkled her brow. “Other strange things?”
“That’s for another time.” She looked at Dante and grinned. “I’ll let you tuck her in for the night, Solitaire.” She left the room.
Regan gave him a quizzical look. “Solitaire?”
He huffed a laugh. “It means loner in French. Sophia’s husband is Cajun. She thinks she’s being funny with the nickname.”
“And are you? A loner?”
“I have been ever since Felicia was murdered. I’ve been what you might call disconnected.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “The team has been my salvation of sorts, but even with them, although I work my ass off, I’ve never really made myself a part of it the way the others have.”
“Why not?” She was standing right in front of him now.
“Something died inside me with my wife. I’ve never been able to bring it to life again.” He stroked her cheek. “Until today, when I met you.”
“I don’t even know how this happened,” she told him. “Or where it’s going.”
“Me either.” And that was the truth. “But I can’t seem to back out of it. And I’m not sure I want to.”
She stepped away from him and picked up the leather satchel she’d put on a chair. “There’s one more thing.”
He cocked his head. “Yeah? What would that be? And what’s in that satchel you’ve been hugging like it’s your lifeline?”
She held it out to him. “Go to your own quarters. Read this. And then, if you still want to have anything to do with me, we’ll talk.”
He looked at it quizzically. “Are your family secrets stashed in here?”
A strange look washed over her face. “You might say that. In a way.” She shoved the satchel at him and took a step back. “Anyway, if I’m going to be here for more than one night, it’s required reading. Then we’ll talk. Or you’ll toss me out. Your choice.”
He felt as if a fist had reached into his stomach and grabbed the core of him. What was this all about? What could be so dreadful that he’d walk away when he’d just found out he could live again?
“All right. I’ll read it now.”
“Don’t rush,” she cautioned. “And don’t come back until you’ve absorbed it.”
He moved to kiss her before he left but she backed away.
“After,” she told him. “If you still want to.”
Weighed down by dread, he trudged to his own suite, grateful that it was just next door.
* * * * *
Dante sat in the big armchair in his sitting room, a mass of conflicting emotions seething inside him. The book from Regan’s leather satchel lay on his lap, a thin volume bound in leather. From its condition he knew it was years old. Maybe even centuries. The binding was frayed in places, the paper and printing from another time. Maybe another world.
He ran a hand lightly over the title printed in gold letters.
The Legend of the Wolf.
He still recalled in vivid detail his first meeting with Craig Stafford and his explanation of what Night Seekers would be. What he had not expected was the information that several members of the team were shifters.
Werewolves, if you will, although Craig was very specific that was a term created for useful identification. It came from two words in the Old German that meant “man” and “wolf.”
At first he thought the billionaire was crazy. But Craig had left several books with him to read, told him to come to the next meeting armed with questions and he’d try to answer them. It took more than one additional meeting for him to even begin to buy into the concept. He’d begun to wonder if the man had slipped something into his coffee at each meeting.
But then his curiosity got the better of him and he asked to meet one of them. So at the next meeting, Jonah Grey came along. From his attitude, Dante knew the man was used to skepticism but, in order to bind them all to their common purpose, didn’t mind doing what had to be done.
“Besides,” he’d said, “if you believe in the Chupacabra, you can believe in anything.”
Which, Dante supposed, was true.
Without any indication of self-consciousness, Jonah had stripped off his clothes, spun in a dramatic circle and what stopped in his place was a magnificent gray wolf, standing majestically, power radiating from it in an almost visible aura. Then, seconds later, he changed again; the man returned and began casually dressing.
With six shifters on the original team, Dante had made it his business to study as many of the legends and origin stories as possible. He’d learned that shifters were more powerful in human form than pure humans, that the wolf blood was a gift and a source of power. That they could communicate telepathically. They had enhanced speed and strength.
He’d learned that each of the shifters on the team had been chosen not only for their law enforcement backgrounds and the loss of a loved one to the devil beasts, but also because they were each orphan shifters. Either they had been separated from their original packs or the packs had been destroyed.
It took months, but finally Dante had become comfortable with the situation.
And as Jonah had pointed out, it wasn’t nearly as extreme as believing in the Chupacabra.
Now he sat with the thin, ancient volume that appeared to be the history of a decimated pack with one lone survivor—Regan.
Dante had to assume her brother had also been a shifter. Did they require special herbs to stem the change, like the Night Seeker wolves? If so, he would get her together with Dakota. Jonah’s wife had been selling her special herbs on the internet when they met. Now she tended an open garden and a greenhouse, growing what they needed to control the impulses to change except when they chose to. He’d be sure to work that into his conversation with Regan.
Conversation! He snorted. That ought to be interesting. Would she even believe him when he told her that he was immersed in a world of shifters? Would he have to wake one of them to shift in front of her to convince her? And how had she and Reed survived without pack support of any kind?
The day had been long and emotionally draining. He knew he should wait until tomorrow to talk to her about this. But he had visions of her lying in the next suite in the dark, terrified that on top of everything else, he’d think she was a lunatic and dump her back at her house in the morning. Be revolted that he’d had sex with a shifter.
No wonder it was so hot!
Not that the Seekers discussed their sex lives around the dinner table, but he knew from bits and pieces he’d picked up that the sex drive for shifters was far more intense and accelerated than for humans.
And what did he think about being with a woman who was half wolf, half human?
Surprisingly, it didn’t bother him at all. Maybe he’d just gotten so used to living with shifters, to seeing them strip at night when they went for their runs and unconsciously accepting the current human/shifter couples. If they could make it work—
Wait. He’d just met the woman today, had one very steamy encounter with her and he was thinking about the future? Until today, the future had meant nothing but finding and eliminating the devil beast. He needed to put the brakes on the suddenly escalating feelings running amok in his body and mind.
He really should wait until tomorrow, when they’d both had a chance to get some sleep, before talking to Regan about this. But apparently his brain and his feet didn’t seem to be connected because he found himself out of his quarters, turning left and knocking lightly on her door.
Maybe she’s asleep and won’t hear me.
When there was no response right away, he thought he was right about that. Th
en the door opened a crack and Regan’s face peered out. Her eyes widened when she saw him.
“Dante?” The expression on her face was half hopeful, half fearful. “Is—is something wrong?”
“No. I don’t think so.” He held up the book. “I wanted to talk to you about this but…” He looked at his watch. “Oops. Should have checked the time first.”
“It’s okay. I wasn’t sleeping anyway.” She pulled the door wider. “Come on in.”
What was he doing here at this hour? Was he so freaked about what he’d read, he couldn’t wait until morning to tell her the episode at her house had been a mistake? That they needed to forget it, not let it happen again while she was here? Tension vibrated through every inch of her body.
“Would you like me to get you some tea from the kitchen?” he asked. “Or wine?”
“No.” She didn’t want tea or wine or anything else. She just wanted him to tell her what was going on in his head.
“Just…” She waved at the couch. “Come on in and sit down.”
He sat on the couch, obviously leaving the invitation to sit next to him.
Instead she chose the armchair opposite. Curling her legs under her, she tugged the nightshirt down over her knees. She felt ridiculously exposed. “I wish I had a robe or something.”
“You’re fine, Regan. Really.”
“Am I?” She tried to tamp down the insecurity rushing through her.
The corners of his mouth kicked up in a smile. “Let me start off by telling you there’s nothing in this book that shocks me, frightens me or makes me think you’re a lunatic.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You must be kidding. Are you sure you know what you read?”
“I’m not a dummy. But I think you’re the one who’ll be shocked when you hear what I have to say.”
She said nothing, just watched him steadily. The panic receded slightly, replaced by surging curiosity. What was going on here?
“I told you about the genesis of Night Seekers, right? How and why it began?”
Regan nodded.
“What I didn’t explain is the makeup of the group. And let me tell you, it was a big gap for me to bridge at the time when Craig Stafford approached me and laid it all out for me. He’d done his research, and he knew who—and what—he wanted on this team.” He held up her book. “I wish I’d had this book to read then.”
She nervously twisted the hem of the nightshirt. “Why? What does the book have to do with it?”
The look in his eyes was intense as he focused on her face. “Because six of the original Night Seekers are shifters. Wolf shifters. As well as some of the newer additions to our group.”
Shock swept through her, freezing her body. What was he talking about? Had she even heard him correctly? This was the last thing she’d expected him to say.
“Let me get this straight.” She did her best to tamp down the mixture of emotions bubbling up inside her—disbelief, hope, shock. “Are you telling me you live in a house with shifters and you don’t think anything of it? Don’t consider it weird?”
Impossible. Just impossible. She could hardly believe what she was hearing now. She and Reed had guarded their secret so closely. Were so very careful with their choices of friends.
“Craig pulled no punches when he told me about it. He gave me material to read, including studies by scientists, and answered all of my questions. Even had Jonah Grey give me a demonstration.” His mouth turned up in a wry grin. “I wasn’t used to men showing up at my place and taking off their clothes.”
“And you just accepted it?” she asked, still processing what he was saying.
“Not at first. I thought he was nuts. But he was persistent. And logical, I might say, if anything about this is logical. He pointed out that I had accepted the Chupacabra without question. That had to be far more unbelievable than shifters. He made a lot of sense. And after Jonah’s visit and a long discussion with some of the others already on board, I realized it wasn’t so odd after all. So either we’re all crazy or we’re the only sane ones around.” His grin turned rueful. “I’m not sure I want to know which, either.”
She scrubbed her face with both hands. “So what you’re telling me is, six of the team are shifters. Did I hear that right? And what about the others?”
Dante smiled. “It gets even more interesting. The shifters are Jonah, Mark, Logan, Chelsea, Sam Brody—who was pretty quiet tonight—and Ric. Our team leader.”
She blinked. “The Texas Ranger?”
“Uh-huh. Mark’s wife, Chloe, is also a shifter. But as of right now, they’re the only mated shifters. All the others are human-wolf couples. Oh, and just so you know, Sophia’s husband Clint, and the newest team member, Ben Crater, are also shifters.”
“Holy crap.”
She didn’t know what else to say. She couldn’t shake the feeling she was in an alternate universe and any moment would wake up to reality. This was so far beyond anything she’d expected him to say.
“Indeed.” He smoothed his hand over the worn leather on the book. “I was fascinated to read about the history of your pack. I assume that, like the others here, you and Reed were orphans. That your pack was decimated and you were left without any connection to other wolves.”
“Yes. There was an older couple that survived the raid on our small village. They brought us to San Antonio and raised us here, teaching us everything they thought we’d need to know. After they died, we were basically alone.” She bit her lower lip. “You have to be careful about making friends when you’re like us.”
“I understand. What about Lisa, Reed’s fiancée?”
“She’s pure human, but somehow she and Reed connected and she was able to accept him.”
They sat in silence for what Regan thought were some of the longest minutes of her life as she waited for Dante to say something about the two of them. He might have an intellectual understanding of what she was, but emotionally? Just because others on the team had mated, didn’t mean he wanted anything to do with her beyond finding and killing this beast. And finding Lisa.
Finally, unable to stand it any longer, she broke the quiet.
“If you’ve decided you don’t want to have anything to do with me, I can certainly understand.” She pulled nervously on the nightshirt. “I would still appreciate any help with finding the devil beast and—”
Her words were cut off as he set the book aside, swooped her out of her chair and sat down with her on his lap.
“Enough. We are what we are, each of us. This doesn’t change at all how I feel about you.”
“You’re kidding, right?” She shook her head. “If you’re not insane then that makes you a very extraordinary man.”
He grinned. “I’ve always thought that myself.” He stroked her cheek with fingers that were so gentle, his touch nearly brought tears to her eyes. “And you will definitely be a part of this process. Ric will have to clear it with Craig but I don’t see a problem. We want this creature as much as you do. Maybe more. As for the two of us?” His dark eyes looked like bottomless pools of black as they locked with hers. “We’ll see how it goes.”
“Yes, I can see—”
He touched the tip of one finger to her lips. “Let me finish.” Pain flashed across his face. “Since the beast killed Felicia, I’ve been…I don’t know what. Emotionally isolated, I guess, for so long I’m not sure how to fix it. Fix myself.” He stroked the line of her jaw, studying her closely. “But even if I wanted to, I can’t deny there’s something very explosive going on between us. Maybe you were sent by fate to help me heal. I don’t know, but whatever it is, I’m not walking away from it. We’ll just take it slow, okay? That work for you?”
Relief coursed through her. “I’m good with that. Yes. Slow. Slow is good.”
She’d take it any way he wanted. Dante Martello was the first man to touch that place inside of her she’d deliberately kept locked away. She’d do whatever he wanted not to lose him.
“I
might make a lot of mistakes here, Regan,” he warned. “I’m out of practice where relationships are concerned and I haven’t…I don’t—”
“Ssh. It’s okay. We’ll stumble around together.”
They sat silently for a long moment. The warmth of his strong body seeped into hers and she could feel the slow and steady beat of his heart.
“Something you might want to consider,” he said at last.
She pushed away from him slightly, frowning. “What? You aren’t changing your mind already, are you?”
“No.” He gave her a crooked smile. “But you might want to make yourself known to the other shifters in the complex. They run a lot at night. It would give you someone to…I don’t know, enjoy some recreation with?”
She just stared at him, momentarily speechless. “You really are one of a kind. You know that?”
His laugh was ragged. “I don’t know about that. But I think we were brought together for a reason and I want to make you as comfortable as possible.”
She tucked her head into the crook of his neck. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow. I’d like to get to know everyone a little better first.”
“I think you’ll find a strong bond of friendship here, Regan. We all share tragic situations and we were all pretty much loners.” He threaded his fingers through her hair and turned her head so her lips were barely a breath from his. “But a lot of the team members have found someone to share their lives with. Maybe that will work for us.”
His mouth coasted over hers with a whisper of a touch, his fingers splayed on her scalp, holding her head firmly in place. The brush of his tongue against the seam of her lips was like a whisk of fire, inflaming her. Heat surged through her body, her nipples hardened and moisture gathered heavily in her cunt.
She desperately wanted him to take the kiss deeper but he seemed intent on merely teasing her, drawing out the sensation, coaxing her body to respond. Not that it took much tempting. This man set her on fire with a simple touch, a brief kiss, even the hungry look in his eyes.
He licked the surface of her lips as if tasting a rich treat, absorbing it in small doses and savoring each drop. When she opened for him, his tongue glided inside rather than sweeping fiercely, lapping at her teeth and the inner walls of her cheeks. He took gentle nips of her mouth along her lower lip and across the top, then soothed them with that incendiary tongue.