CHAPTER 29—Full Moon and a Mud Bath
Sunday, April 8
Light speckled my face, waking me from sleep. I groaned and rolled over. My face planted in a fluffy pillow, and I curled my hand into its silky fur cover. My head bobbed up and down in a steady rhythm. The oddity of it hit like bricks, and I jerked up, eyes flying open. I was in a blue tent. When had he done that? I scanned the small enclosure finding it stuffed with our blankets from last night. Pressed against my side was a large wolf, his silver orbs watching me with curiosity. I had been snuggling with Beast!
My cheeks burned.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were there.” Lame. Lame. But what else do you say to a wolf you were using as a body pillow?
He snorted, and I swear he rolled his eyes. He stood and nosed the blankets at me.
What? Did he really think I could go back to sleep?
“No thanks, I’m up.”
He snatched a blanket between his teeth and drug it out of the tent. I peeked my head out and watched him cross the small snow-covered clearing and drop it by the slender shed.
“Oh.” I felt so stupid. I looked around and realized that Beast had cleaned up everything but the blankets and tent, even the backpack and Beast’s clothes were missing. I grabbed the remaining blankets and hauled them to the shed. Then, I quickly broke down the tent, not bothering to roll it up, since it was wet, and flung it over the cases in the shed to dry. It was then I spotted Beast’s pack and lifted it to hike it back down, but struggled with the weight.
Man, he over packed.
Digging in the bag, I found almost a dozen bottles of water and protein bars. I decided if Beast had wanted me to hike it back down he would’ve left it out. So I grabbed one of each and followed my wolf guide back down the mountain.
This time it was an easier hike—all downhill.
Yay for me and my sore muscles.
After a few hours, the blanket of snow thinned to small clumps and the pines yielded to more deciduous aspens. We were close to Beast’s home.
Suddenly, Beast stiffened and sniffed the air with a small growl.
He trotted back and butted his head for me to continued down the path. I complied, but kept a curious eye on him. Once I started walking again, he leapt into the foliage and disappeared. What was that all about? And where did he think he was going? I wasn’t looking forward to the pain if we got too far apart.
I broke free of the trees, took in the sun-soaked landscape, and stepped onto the glistening emerald grass where my feet sank into the mud. I glanced down and smiled. I was simply too happy to care. The whole meadow was so beautiful, and the cabin sat in its middle like an exquisite monument. At that moment, I wanted to fly into the sporadic arrangement of gray rainclouds above and bathe in their beauty. But a normal shower would probably be more realistic. I approached a small pine near the front door and stroked its rich green needles before running my fingers over its russet colored bark. The perfect balance of nature.
A harsh bark echoed through the meadow, and I jerked. Whipping to my right, I searched the distant tree line, unable to identify where Beast was. Suddenly, a large wolf leapt out of the trees on the opposite side of the meadow. For a moment, I feared it was one of the wolves from his pack, but there was no mistaking his beautiful coat as he stood regal and massive.
But he was so far away. Placing a hand unconsciously on my abdomen, I felt no pain. Did that mean the bond was stretching? I could feel anger roll off him as he glared back into the woods. As if defying him, a large section of foliage rustled, catching my attention. I stepped in that direction—curious. A ferocious growl ripped from his throat, and both I and the movement in the bush stilled.
The world moved in slow motion as I stood there watching Beast. He turned his back on the bush and stalked toward me, hackles raised. What was in the bush? Another wolf? I’d assumed I was safe while Beast was around, that his pack would stay clear of me, since I “belonged” to him, and he was their leader. Maybe I was wrong. Or they didn’t like newcomers. I shivered at that thought.
Beast head-butted me in the back of the legs, pushing me toward the house.
“Bossy much?” My hands found my hips, and he butted me again. “I’m going! I need a shower anyway.”
I took a few steps toward the house, but I couldn’t take my eyes away from the bushes. A pair of brown eyes stared out at me. My breath caught, and the eyes disappeared, but a new thought flittered into my head, filling me with hope. The brown eyes resembled the eyes in the paintings of—my mother.
Without thinking, I strode toward Beast and whatever was in the brush. The hope of seeing my mother burned like a fever. I ignored Beast’s warning growls. As our paths intersected, I kept going, or would have if his massive body hadn’t stopped me.
I faked right, he moved to block me, and I twisted to the left at the last moment. As I slid past him, success was a brief tease. The mud made it hard to keep upright. Trying to dodge a wolf was harder than I’d imagined. Beast’s massive bulk darted right in front of me, and unable to stop my forward motion, I toppled over him. My face found a mushy landing in the muddy grass with the rest of my body following suit. Rolling onto my back, I wiped the fungus-smelling mud off my scraped nose and cheek. While I struggled for fresh air, I stared up at the ominous clouds creeping over the sun, no longer desiring to fly into them, until a shadowy muzzle blocked my view. Beast’s anger flashed through my rapidly chilling body, irking me.
“You didn’t have to cover me in mud!” I narrowed my eyes at the silver ones boring down at me in the mud. The stench of wet dog was overpowering.
An impish glint shot through his, and I felt a small tickle of humor replace his irritation. It only infuriated me further.
“Don’t you dare laugh at me, you hairy mutt! Now get out of my face,” I commanded, using my hands to push his soft, furry face out of mine.
He backed up easily, but returned to his guarded position. Finding my footing, I knew I was not getting past his hairy hide, at least not today. I wanted to brush the mud off my soaked jeans but knew it would only ingrain the stain further. I needed a shower and a washing machine. Looking at the house and then back at the bush, I felt torn. Without conscious thought, I stepped toward the forest again. Beast countered me easily. Unless I want another muddy battle, my curiosity would have to wait until tonight.
“Fine,” I snapped, throwing the larger chunks of mud at him as I moved toward the house. “You’d better have a washer in there. You just ruined my favorite hoodie.”
I was still irritated, but it wasn’t so much the mud as it was his controlling attitude. I stomped back to the house, entertaining a grand vision of grinding my muddy heel into his expensive Persian rugs in the grand room. The thought of a stop, drop and roll across the pristine room sent a shiver of pleasure through me, but I squelched the impulse at the doorstep. I wasn’t that cruel. It wasn’t the carpet’s fault. I circled around back where a wood railed porch greeted my touch. Climbing up the few steps, I slid open the kitchen’s glass door.
A large puddle of mud dripped from my plastered clothes as I stood just inside the sliding door. There was no way I’d make it upstairs without smearing stinky mud all over my bedroom. Slipping out of my shoes and hoodie, I was relieved to see my shirt was mostly clean. Quickly, I shrugged out of my pants, exposing my lacy pink panties. Praying Beast stayed outside, I sprinted upstairs to let hot water thaw my numb flesh.
With a fluffy, cream towel wrapped tightly around my now washed body, I opened the dresser drawer, where I’d haphazardly thrown my belongings. I shuffled through all my choices before I realized my predicament. The only pair of pants that made the trip to Beast’s house were downstairs, caked in mud and grass particles.
The only other bottoms I had were my silky pajama shorts, and wearing them in front of Beast was not an option. Scanning the room, my eyes stopped on the mirrors of the sliding closet doors that stretched the width and length of the closet. It was open
a crack, and something yellow caught my eye. What would I find tucked inside? My heart beat a loud warning in my ears as I neared the closet. All the horror films Aunt Lily watched came crashing down on me with vengeance. Here I was, half naked, my hand reaching out to slide open a door that could be hiding the dead bodies of girls past.
I shuddered.
What’s wrong with me? An overactive imagination was not my friend today. This is Beast we are talking about, not some serial killer.
Before my mind could conjure other images, I shoved the closet door to the right. It banged on the opposite wall, and I squealed, scampering back a few steps. After removing my hands from my eyes, I blinked away the confusing image. The closet brimmed with stylish outfits. Upon closer inspection, I found them to be my exact size. Shoes of equal variety were lined perfectly on forest green carpet at the bottom of the closet.
Suddenly, a creepy feeling crawled up my arms, and I backed away, unable to avert my gaze. How long had he been planning this? How closely had he watched me? I shivered. Though I now understood Beast’s stalker-like behavior, I still felt violated. At least he wasn’t a sick psycho, and I thanked the stars for that. A domineering werewolf, yes, but not some Peeping Tom. His wolf may have forced him to abduct me, but he wasn’t forced to plan for my comfort.
Why would he even bother with clothes, Blu-rays, and books? I inched toward the closet again. My hand brushed over the bright colored blouses, plucking a sparkling purple one with droopy elbow-length sleeves. It was just like a shirt I’d coveted from Chel’s closet but never would own myself. I fingered the name brand tag, seeing Beast with a whole new understanding. My heart swelled. He fought against the curse-induced binding, doing everything he could to make it easier for when I came here. His thoughtfulness left me in awe. He was overbearing at times, but that same raw power he emanated sent my heart fluttering.
My mind wandered back to the night he threw me over his shoulder and threatened to carry me off. I blushed, thinking of our skin on skin contact. Okay, more like hair on skin, but I was thankful no one was there to witness it. Maybe I was becoming an adrenaline junky, but I felt drawn to him in more ways than I could define. He was my polar opposite, undeniably attractive and infuriating, all at the same time.
My head throbbed as I struggled to piece together the complicated puzzle that comprised Beast. I had to lie down. Letting the feathered pillow cradle my head, I tried not to think of him, but again, his silver eyes stared back at mine through my closed eyelids. The cool, velvety comforter on my bare legs brought the wrestling match in the meadow back to mind. A small chuckle bubbled up my throat. Wrestling a huge wolf wasn’t on the smartest-things-to-do-in-life list. But I hadn’t been hurt. I fingered my nose, and winced. Okay. I wasn’t hurt badly, and it was my own clumsy fault. He’d been gentle, even when provoked. And those brown eyes that warmed like glazed brown sugar made my body tingle.
I sprang from the bed, unnerved by the warmth spreading through me again. I wiggled into a pair of charcoal-black jeans, impressed by their perfect fit, and headed downstairs. Now that my irritation with Beast had evaporated, I felt the muddy mess in the kitchen calling my name. Oil paintings of majestic mountains and serene meadows hung in perfect symmetry down the staircase, and I ran my fingers over the bumpy textures of each one. I swallowed a lump as the image of Grandma painting in her studio resurfaced. If only she were here…
In the kitchen, I hopped bare foot from tile to tile, trying to avoid their chill. I finally made it to the rug near the sink and opened the cupboard. Grabbing a plastic bag, I threw all my dirty things inside, except my mud-caked shoes which I chucked onto the porch.
On my way to find the washer, I passed the fridge, and my tummy rumbled a pleading request. I opened the sparse refrigerator and grabbed out the plastic wrapped bowl containing the basil chicken pasta from last night. Plopping some on a gold-rimmed white plate, I poked the dead chicken pieces into a mound in one corner and downed the chilled pasta. I tossed my plate in the sink, intending to wash it after throwing my clothes in the washer, and stepped into the hallway. Looking left, the grand room glistened in the rusty rays of the drooping western sun. After scanning the rest of the house, I circled back toward the kitchen. Moving to my right, I noticed a solitary door at the end of the hallway I’d missed before.
Grasping the handle, I was surprised by the heavy chill that seeped through it. The well-oiled hinges didn’t make a sound as I pulled it open. I squinted through the doorframe and saw a splintered, driftwood staircase disappearing into the darkness below.
“Great!” I lamented. My voice bounced down the stairwell. The washer was no doubt at the bottom of this creepy staircase. I hated basements. They always reminded me of some Stephen King body snatcher movie.
Holding on to the railing on my right, I used my left hand to search the wall studs until my fingers found the light switch. Sickly yellow light flickered down the stairwell, adding to my trepidation. Each stair creaked like a warning bell.
Stop! What are you doing? Go back.
But I’d never been one to heed warnings, especially when I was already rooming with a werewolf. Besides, I had an armful of stinky clothes begging to be washed. Stepping off the last stair, I again found myself searching for a light switch. I flipped it and the large room was illuminated.
Four rows of metal shelving units stood evenly spaced throughout the room. Walking between them, my hand trailed along neatly stacked cans sorted by variety: refried beans, green beans, kidney beans, black beans, and others I’d never heard of. There was canned fruit, meat, and other stuff I didn’t even know existed, like powdered eggs and butter.
As I walked along the aisles, the products on the labels morphed to five-gallon buckets of an endless supply of toiletries, soap, garbage bags and other household products. Beyond that were six large chest freezers arranged in a perfect line on the far wall. I knew what they contained without needing to glance. Images of animal carcasses filled my mind, and I steered clear of that side of the room.
He was prepared to survive years without ever leaving his house. There would be no excuses for a grocery store run. I sank to the concrete floor in despair. In that instant, the seed of hope of a reunion with my family shriveled. I would be stuck here forever, just like my mother.
I wasn’t sure how long I sat hugging the bag of dirty clothes to my chest, but my trembling body eventually pulled me back to my cruel surroundings. Turning around, I located the stairs several yards back. Stationed on the wall tucked behind them sat the washer and dryer. The commercial-sized, high-efficiency machines were twice as wide and almost as tall as I was. How’d I miss them?
Opening the frontloading washer, I threw my clothes in and shut the door. Then I stared stupefied at all the buttons blinking before me—permanent press, delicates, hand wash. Why couldn’t one blink the words “normal load?” But nothing in my life would be normal again.
CHAPTER 30—Deadly Secrets
Closing the basement door, I found myself once again in darkness, at least this time I had the full moon streaming through the hallway to light my path. It sat plump in the sky, keeping its secrets just out of reach. Carefully walking through the shadows to the grand room, I cursed myself for not memorizing the location of the light switches. Usually, Beast took care of that.
Where is he, anyway?
I hadn’t even felt him change. What if something was wrong? I paused outside his “off-limits” study and closed my eyes, trying to sense him through the bond. I got a little tug of anticipation, but he seemed fine. The sense felt far off. Honestly, part of me missed his closeness, but the other part enjoyed the freedom. It was strange that he wasn’t here to greet me in his human form, but at least I knew he was okay. Staring at the closed study door, temptation won the battle of wills. My hand tugged on the brass handle, and it easily gave way. A coy grin spread from cheek to cheek.
I never could resist a mystery, especially when there was no fear of being caught.
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Entering Beast’s study, I searched the wall for that annoying stubby switch. Shadows playfully bounced around the room, lit by a tiny fire. My now skilled fingers found the switch quickly and light from the elk antler chandelier illuminated the room.
Looking at the room décor, I felt transported back in time. An antique cherry wood bureau stood across the room. It was framed by a window draped in a white coarsely woven cloth over the polished wooden rod. I stepped up to the roll top desk and traced my fingers along the carved finish work. From the rough texture of the grooves, I’d guess it was hand carved. After pulling back the top, my eyes skimmed over the black laptop and stacks of files neatly piled on the desk, all stamped with the name: Starcursed Enterprise.
Was he hacking into a company? A chill brushed my neck.
With clumsy fingers, I picked up one of the files and was startled to find that they were stock market portfolios. Statistics wasn’t my best subject, but just by the looks of the top portfolio, they were doing very well. I picked up another one, hoping to find evidence that he wasn’t a thief.
Among the sea of cream folders, a pale blue one caught my eye. Carefully, I lifted the large stack of folders that buried it and opened the flap. There I found tax returns documents with the company’s name on them and check stubs bearing the name Mr. Frank J. Covington.
If he was a thief, he wouldn’t have tax returns, right? Could this be his company? But then who was Mr. Frank J. Covington?
Dread curled around me like smoke. Was this Beast’s real name? He so didn’t look like a Frank, but it was possible. I knew so little about the man I’d stargazed with, the man that held me prisoner. Why hadn’t this bothered me before?
Placing the folders back on the bureau, I realized I needed to escape before he returned. If he caught me in here, snooping, discovering his secrets…
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