by Stone, Wendy
“I didn’t say that,” Joseph said.
“Joe, she’s a client of mine and she’s in trouble. We need your help.” Brady dropped his hand onto Joseph’s shoulder. “You wouldn’t turn us away, would you?”
“Good Lord have mercy,” Joseph breathed. “She’s like you, isn’t she?”
“Something like that.” He looked around the dark neighborhood. “Can we come in? I’m feeling a bit exposed out here.”
“Yes,” Joseph said, standing back from the door. His eyes followed Molly as she walked into the house. His hand came up, pushing against Brady’s chest to stop him from following. “There’s something else there too, isn’t there?”
“Do you really want to know?” Brady asked, peering into the dark brown eyes of his best friend. “She needs my help. Mine, and yours too. You can’t possibly think that she can hurt us?”
“You’re doing it again, Brady,” Joe growled, finally letting him into the house.
“Doing what?”
“Drawing me into your espionage.” Joe headed into the living room, turning on lights as he went and leaving them to follow him. “What are you running from?”
“Government types,” Brady said. “Remember what you always warned me of? Well, it’s happening to Molly. They took her and they did tests, locking her away in a cage. Just like you said they would do if they ever caught me.”
“You’re not serious,” Joseph breathed. “I never really thought that it would happen. I just... just used the scenario to try to keep you in line.”
“I knew it!” Brady growled.
Joseph rolled his eyes, pulling his robe closed and tying it. “I need coffee,” he said. “Can I get anyone else some?”
He turned before either of them answered, heading to the kitchen and leaving them alone in the living room of the house.
“I told you he wouldn’t be happy,” Molly said, not bothering to keep her voice down and not caring if Father Joseph heard her or not. “How did he know who I am?”
“You mean what you are,” Brady said. “Maybe because he’s had enough experience dealing with me that he’s used to the way we look or smell or something. I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him.”
“I think we should just get out of here,” she muttered, turning to glance out the window. All she could see was the reflection of herself in the glass.
“Who’s going to expect a werewolf to seek shelter with a priest?” Brady asked her.
“Anyone who knows you and how close you two are,” she threw back.
“Then they know that I would cut off my own arm before hurting anyone I love. I would never put Joe in danger.”
“That’s good to hear,” Joseph said, walking back into the living room with a tray balanced in his hands. “It’s probably too strong,” he said, nodding at the coffee, “but it’s hot as hell and will warm you up from the inside out.” He offered a cup to Molly, who took it and warmed her cold hands against the sides.
“Strong is good,” Brady said, earning a glance from Joseph. “Oh come on, Joe. I really didn’t have much of a choice. They’re hunting her, using her sister to find her. You can’t expect me to just turn her away.”
“We’ll discuss that later. Now we need to come up with a plan. I can let you stay here until morning. Then the church ladies will be here. I don’t know how I’d explain the two of you to them.” He spoke to both but his eyes lingered on Molly, as if he were trying to figure her out.
“I’m part witch, part wolf. Does that help, Father?” she said belligerently. “I know how your kind feels about us. I don’t expect you to go out of your way to help me. Thank you for the coffee,” she said, rising to her feet and setting the cup back on the tray.
“Whoa, wait a second,” Brady grabbed her arm, holding her still even when she turned and growled at him. “Give Joseph a chance, Molly. Don’t just leave.” He stared down into her warm green eyes, feeling that same attraction draw him in, the sense of belonging that startled as well as intrigued him.
He grew lost in that gaze, felt her pull at him until he wanted to draw her into his arms, dip his head and find her lips, so close to his own. He wanted to taste her passion again, feel her burn in his arms as he did in hers.
“Excuse me,” Joseph said, clearing his throat loudly. “Do I get a say in this?”
Brady lifted his head, dazed. He closed his eyes, giving himself a mental shake. “Of course you do, Joe, this is your home.”
“There is a room,” Joe began, sipping from his cup before putting it down on the table. He stood, going to Molly. “It’s safe because no one knows of its existence but me.” He stared into her eyes. “Have you ever hurt another human being?”
“Yes,” she said. There was remorse and regret in her tone, mixed with the defiance and terror she’d felt that day. “But never one that didn’t deserve it.”
“Did you kill him?”
“Yes.”
“Do you offer up your remorse to God for what you have done?”
“I don’t believe in your God, Father. I don’t believe in anyone who would allow such terrible things to happen just because someone is different then others. I can’t.” She didn’t drop her eyes, instead letting him see the pain and suffering she’d been through pooled in them.
“Joe, we don’t really have time for all of this. I still have to drop my car off somewhere, throw them off the trail.” He grabbed Joe’s shoulder. “Please, Joe.”
“Come with me,” Joseph said, glancing once more into Molly’s beautiful features. “I don’t know what kind of condition it’s in. I haven’t been down there in quite a while.” He took them through a door and down some stairs into a basement. It smelled moldy and wet, boxes strewn around here and there. Tubs full of church records were scattered, permanent ink on the plastic containers describing the contents. Pushing aside one stack of them, he prodded at the wall, finally finding the small brick that moved when he pushed it. A door swung inwards, a black hole behind it.
Joseph grabbed for an oil lamp and some matches, as well as a couple of flashlights, which were on a shelf in a corner. He handed the lamp and matches to Molly and gave a flashlight to Brady. “Come on, stay close.”
The light from the beams of the two flashlights barely penetrated the darkness. They stepped warily, the floor uneven and rocky. Joseph went first, ducking his head to keep from hitting the low ceiling. He moved with the assurance of one who knew where he was going and wanted to get there, leaving Molly to hurry after him. When she turned to glance back at Brady, her eyes glowed in the dim light, like a cat’s.
“I’m coming,” he said, cursing silently.
The singular room at the end of the tunnel was dark and cold but not damp. It held a wide bed and a small table with one chair. There were no other furnishings to be seen. Molly stood and shivered, uncertainty in her stance.
“Home sweet home,” Joe announced. “I know it’s not much but no one knows of its existence but me. Not even the church ladies will come down here. The bed is made, and I’ll bring you extra blankets. You should be safe here.”
“Thanks Joe,” Brady reached out, hugging his friend. “I knew you’d come through. We’ll only be here for a bit. We’ll try not to make things difficult for you.”
“Yeah, sure you will.” His tone didn’t match his words. His hug was warm and he patted Brady on the back. “There’s a bathroom just on the other side of the stairs. No shower, but it’ll do for now. I’ll bring down some food and coffee and some more blankets as soon as I take care of your car.” He held his hand out for Brady’s keys.
“Just be nice to it,” he said, regretfully handing over the key.
Joseph gave him a wink that made Brady moan and then disappeared through the tunnel and out the other end. They heard the wall scrape back into place and then heard the boxes stacked back in front.
“I’m sorry,” Molly said softly, setting the lamp down on the small table and lighting one of the matches. It flared brightl
y in the near dark of the room, which was lit only by the flashlight that Brady still held.
“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about,” Brady said. He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, rolling his eyes at the lack of signal.
“Because of me, you’ve had to give up your life. You’re on the run now as much as I am. If they find you, they’ll torture you to find out where I am. I should never have come to you.” Molly finished lighting the lamp, shaking out the match and dropping it to the table. She sank down into the chair, putting her head in her hands.
“Molly, you needed help. You did the right thing. Tomorrow we’ll figure out where the encampment is and see what we can do about freeing the rest of your people…as well as shutting that place down for good.” He stood behind her, his hands on her arms, rubbing gently at her skin.
“You’re cold.”
“I can’t seem to get warm,” she said, shivering. Her teeth chattered and she held her hands around the glass chimney of the small lamp, absorbing as much heat as she could.
“Come with me,” he said, lifting her out of the chair and standing her in the center of the room. “Now don’t move.” He bowed his head, breathing out then taking as much air as he could into his lungs. Blowing it out slowly, he raised his head. His eyes glowed a fiery red and his aura shifted to match, pulsing as it moved from him to her, wrapping her in a cocoon of warmth.
“Oh,” she cried as an almost sexual shiver of heat and pleasure throbbed through and around her. “How are you doing this?” Her nipples grew taut, puckering under the thin material of his tee shirt. She’d grabbed her clothing but hadn’t put it on, coming with him dressed as she’d gone to bed. There was nothing between her skin and the tee shirt and it clung to her body.
Goose flesh covered her and another shudder of pleasure pulsed inside. She was warm, as warm as if she were lying out upon some tropical beach, the sun beating down on her oil-covered skin. “That’s wonderful,” she sighed.
“Glad I could help,” he said, pulling aside the blankets and sinking down on one side of the wide bed. “We should try to get some sleep. Daylight will be here soon.” He kicked off his shoes, leaving his jeans and shirt on. Lying back on the bed, he motioned her towards him. “You have to be exhausted, Molly.”
“I am,” she said hesitantly, standing slowly and moving toward the bed. “We’re adults, right?”
Her question brought a smile to his lips. “Yes, Molly, we’re adults. Nothing is going to happen except sleep.” He yawned.
She kicked off her shoes, sitting gingerly on the bed. With a sigh, she laid back, curling onto her side with her back to him. “Good night,” she whispered.
“Night Molly,” he said, closing his eyes.
* * * *
Brady hadn’t been asleep very long before a noise woke him. Footsteps. Someone was in the basement outside of the tunnel.
“What’s... mmmph.”
He slapped his hand over Molly’s mouth. “Quiet,” he whispered.
They lay in bed, listening to the heavy footfalls, neither speaking. Molly didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she got dizzy. She pulled Brady’s hand from her mouth. “Is it them?” she hissed.
“I don’t know.” He turned his head, looking down at her. It was pitch black in the small room and he couldn’t see two inches in front of his face. Every noise seemed amplified and he could hear the scraping on the floor as boxes were moved. Dipping his head, he tried to find Molly’s ear, wanting to whisper a warning.
Instead, her warm lips touched his. The surprise kept him still, lips pressed to hers. Heat surged through him, the taste of her seeping into his mouth. He moaned, the low sound coming from deep inside. He’d never felt this way, not with any woman; not even with Renee.
The thought of his fiancée should have sent him flying out of the bed, but he stayed. For some reason, the connection of this moment with Molly seemed more vital, more alive than anything he’d ever felt with Renee.
His hand slid over her skin, cupping her cheek in his palm. He twisted his head, parting her lips with his, felt the tip of her tongue licking at his mouth. Sensation exploded through him; heat, want, desire, all wrapped up in a huge ball of need that lodged in his belly. He felt his cock, rigid against the zipper of his jeans, pulsing with each rapid beat of his heart.
Brady shifted, pulling her under him. His hand went to the hem of the tee shirt she wore. He pulled on it, feeling her lift so that he could take it over her head, leaving her naked from the waist up. “I wish I could see you,” he whispered.
Molly lifted her hands, cupping his face. “Close your eyes,” she whispered back.
A tiny tingle, like leftover static electricity, flooded him from her hands. Then, almost like a movie inside his head, he could see her. Fair skin seemed to gleam over the rounded mounds of her perfectly formed breasts, large enough to fill his hands, tips reddened and eager for his mouth and his caress. His sweats were tied tightly around her tiny waist, clinging precariously above her lush hips.
When he looked into her face, her eyes were on his. There was a curious expression in them, one he wasn’t sure he wanted to decipher. She almost seemed afraid of him, though the touch of her hands on his skin betrayed that impression. It was only in her eyes, in the lovely green irises that glowed with a fire he wanted to taste. “I don’t want to scare you.”
“You won’t,” she whispered, lifting her head from the pillow to find his mouth. It was a tentative kiss at first. He truly didn’t want to scare her. But her passions pulled at him and his hands found her breasts, filling his palms with her seductive curves. He traced his fingers over her nipples, feeling them harden more as the skin around them grew taut.
He tore his mouth from hers, taking her hands and placing them on his chest. “Take off my shirt,” he ordered. He felt her fingers fumble with the buttons, their uncertainty arousing him even more. His mouth moved over her throat. She arched her head back, giving him better access to the sweetness of her skin. He breathed in her scent, vanilla and the warm scent of arousal making his head spin.
* * * *
Molly slid her hands across the smooth flesh of his stomach, her fingers wandering over the hard muscles, moving upwards to his wide chest. His nipples were hard, like tiny pebbles, and she scraped her nails over them, hearing him moan.
His mouth felt like fire against her throat, his tongue lapping at the rushing pulse at the base of her neck. She stirred under him, wanting more, wanting all of him. A low moan rose to her throat but she stopped it, still aware of the noises outside the rock wall that hid their sanctuary.
Using her palms, she pushed his shirt off his shoulders, sliding her hands down his muscled arms until the shirt was around his wrists. He tugged the sleeves off, his chest firm against her naked breasts.
“You feel so good,” she moaned softly, arching her back to press against him harder.
“So do you,” he whispered. His hands, freed from the sleeves, slid down her sides and over her hips. “I want you.”
Molly thought she’d go up in an explosion of heat at his words, leaving only a puddle of desire in her wake. Her hands moved over him, her legs sliding up until she could wrap them around his jean-covered ass. She wanted to feel him against her; all of him, not the scratchy denim against her sweats.
Her fingers went to the waistband of his jeans, tugging at the first button until it came undone. She felt him draw in a sharp breath as the muscles in his stomach convulsed against her fingers. The second button came free more easily, leaving a tiny vee opening. She pushed against his shoulder, rolling so that she could rise above him, anxious to get her hands on his heat.
A sharp tug had the last of the buttons loose in the well-worn denim. She spread each side apart, seeing the heavy ridge that ran up the length of his boxer briefs, taut fabric outlining his girth.
“Oh, nice,” she breathed, tracing the heavy ridge and the long shaft with one finger. A small damp spot appeared at th
e top of the ridge, staining the fabric of his briefs. Molly caressed him with her eyes, over the edge of his jeans, up his muscled stomach and chest to his eyes.
They seemed to flicker with red flames, their melted chocolate color almost lost in his want of her. It was a heady feeling, one that made her suck in a sharp breath of her own. “You do want me,” she whispered.
Coming to her knees, she grabbed the ties to his sweats in both hands. A slow pull had the bow undone. A little shimmy and the soft, much-washed fabric slid down her legs. She was naked underneath. Reaching out, she found his hand and pressed his palm to her flat stomach. She guided it lower, hearing him moan when he felt the soft red curls that covered her sex.
His fingers slid between her swollen lips and into heat. Her wetness coated his fingertips as he found the small button of her clit, swirling his finger around that small piece of flesh. Molly shook under his gentle attack, barely able to stay still. She finally pulled his hand free, bringing it to her lips and sucking her juices from his long fingers.
Brady’s head came up due to a sudden loud squeak; his eyes tried to penetrate the dark, to see what was causing the noise. He reached out, grabbing Molly around her slender waist, pulling her down behind him. “Stay there,” he whispered.
Molly felt the bed move as he got up. Yanking up the sweats, she searched for her shirt, finding his instead. She threw it on quickly, buttoning the top two buttons before going to find him. Using her wolf senses, she could see in the dark much more easily than he could and she spotted him sneaking up the dark tunnel, his hand on the wall to guide his way.
She followed, staying one or two steps behind him the entire way, not wanting to scare him. When they reached the brick wall, Brady put his ear against it, listening to see if he could hear any noise.
Molly reached out, letting her senses flow. She felt the presence of another on the other side of the wall. He was centered in the basement, standing still.