I Kissed a Dog (Werewolves of the West 1)

by Carol Van Atta

  Jazmine, who you were unlucky enough to meet, was selected to be my mate when I was just a pup. She, too, is a purebred. I despise her. There was a time, when we were younger, that I was drawn to her, but that all changed when I saw the real Jazmine, who is none too charming.”

  My curiosity got the better of me and I cut in, “She still wants to be your mate, doesn’t she?” I couldn’t deny that the idea of Jazmine cuddled up to Zane infuriated me.

  “Not for the normal sentimental reasons. For her it’s all about power. Mated to me she’d have substantial … privileges.”

  I decided to wait before asking more about the so-called mating privileges. I didn’t want to appear eager to become a werewolf’s mate.

  Still experiencing some major anxiety about last night, I fired off a series of other must-know questions. “Who were those men that assaulted you? Why did they look so human? What about the Zebra’s attacker?”

  “Whoa, slow down, I promise I’ll explain everything,” he reassured.

  I wished there was a way to speed up our conversation. There was a way. “Since you seem to like the convenience of our mental chit chat, what if you just thought everything you wanted to say. That way, I’ll see the images.” This seemed like the perfect communication solution under the circumstances.

  “Maybe I’d prefer to talk, you know, like two normal people.” He shrugged.

  “Face it; we’re not your average Joe and Jane.”

  “Take my hand.” He reached over, his unique musky scent filling my senses.

  “Is this necessary?” Holding hands seemed way too intimate. After our recent kissing session, my potential reaction to his touch worried me, making it difficult to discount my feelings for him.

  Ignoring my question, he grinned what seemed a very wolfy grin. In fact, I could see the wolf in all his expressions. Instead of repelling me, I was even more curious.

  “Okay.” I allowed his massive hand to cover my much smaller one.

  His heat penetrated through my fingers, warming areas of my body never touched by a man. I gulped, unable to look away from his gaze. The golden flecks in his eyes expanded, his wildness captivating me.

  The images he transferred into my mind were crystal clear, squelching any sensuous feelings, and instead overwhelming my senses with the sights, smells, and sounds of a large gathering.

  Men, women, and children mingled; eating, drinking, and dancing to the folksy songs of several musicians. Flowing skirts, cowboy hats, and denim coveralls were the fashion trend. A scene from the late 1800’s or early 1900’s had unfolded before me.

  Following polite applause, the families seated themselves on long benches and wooden stools. A powerful looking man, with dark hair like Zane’s, moved with surprising stealth to the front and faced the crowd.

  “Friends and family, I’m proud, as your leader, to reestablish our peace treaty with the local Indian tribes. Earlier today, we signed this document.” He held up a tanned parchment. “This agreement is based on our ability, as the purebred pack, to maintain control of the mutants, who have of late become very bothersome to our copper-skinned friends.

  Ladies and children, if you’d be so kind to let the men move to the meeting room.”

  The women clustered together, talking in hushed tones as the men followed their leader through a side door. One lone boy, who resembled the pack’s leader, stood off to the side. His gaze followed the trail of departing men.

  “Go on, boy. Your father agreed.” A gorgeous woman, with two smaller children clinging to her skirt, prodded the older boy forward. After a brief hesitation, he dashed through the entrance to join the men in the other room.

  “Who is the boy?” I asked; certain he was a relation of Zane’s.

  “My father. The leader, of course, was my granddad. This event marked our renewed partnership with the Native American population. An agreement that’s stayed intact until now.”

  “What do you mean, until now?”

  “Keep watching.” He squeezed my hand.

  Following their meeting, the men exited the building, trudging in a triangular formation into the darkness. They hiked deep into the forest, stopping outside a grassy clearing occupied by a half-circle of misshapen lean-to’s that faced several glowing bonfires.

  Around the fires, figures crouched, feasting on dead carcasses — some animals — others human. Their hands and faces were splattered with gore.

  Sensing the purebred pack, their lips receded. A series of snarls erupted from the camp.

  Zane’s pack shifted with unparalleled speed. A visual vibration surrounded them as bones broke, split, and refitted together; faces stretched, forming the elongated muzzles I recognized from last night. The pack’s height increased, giving them the appearance of towering, fur-covered giants. Fangs glistened in the moonlight.

  The nighttime peace was shattered by roars, snarls, and vicious growls as the two sides launched into battle, their bodies forming a sea of fur and flesh.

  From the start, the purebreds maintained a considerable advantage.

  Able to change without a full moon, they dominated the mutants, pressing their advantage. Flesh tearing and blood spraying, Zane’s pack moved through the camp like conquering barbarians. The most attractive females, a group of ancient males, and the children, were spared.

  “They became our slaves. Some of our males chose their women as mates. It was a bad idea. We should have complied with the Indians and destroyed them all. Then, maybe, we wouldn’t be in the situation we’re in now,” Zane added, his expression grim.

  “What situation?” I found myself hanging on Zane’s explanations.

  “When you leave enemies amongst you, in time, they find a way to rebel. In the late sixties, we agreed to let the mutants move on. The ones remaining in the wild, so to speak, had been staying away from humans, trying to blend into society like the rest of us.

  With the Indians’ approval, we decided to allow them limited freedom. Our pack chose the strongest males to enforce the long-established law — no feeding off humans or human-owned livestock. Unlike us, mutants have greater difficulty ignoring the bloodlust, particularly during a full moon.”

  “So these mutants became mutants in the first place because you guys snacked on them? You haven’t explained how they came into existence other than saying they were ‘bitten.’” I struggled to keep everything straight.

  “Let’s just say our ancient ancestors discovered that by biting humans they could convert them into wolf-like creatures — to do their dirty work. They hoped these mixed-breeds would serve as additional warriors and slaves.

  Instead of building a loyal army, they ended up creating an enemy. For centuries, we’ve paid for our relatives’ mistakes.” He looked down, as if to gather his thoughts.

  “In recent years, we’ve been able to keep things under control. Now we’ve come to believe that some of our own are partnering with the mutants to stir up trouble with the Indians, hoping to take a bite of our financial success while destroying our overall credibility.”

  “Where does Ms. Jazmine fit into all this?” My brain was reaching its capacity, but I couldn’t rest without knowing about my arch rival.

  “Like I mentioned last night, she works for our casinos. I serve on the Board of Directors, an honor she’s always wanted. Our parents presented us as future mates before the combined Native American Werewolf Council when we were about seven or eight. Regardless of my aversion to her, tradition requires that unless another true partner is revealed, we must mate, or, as you humans say, marry.”

  “Oh.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Marrying without love sounded like the worst possible fate.

  “She showed up here, because when I turn twenty-eight next month, we’re supposed to present ourselves before the council elders as mates. Believe me; I’m trying everything to get out of this archaic agreement. If I can prove she’s up to something that endangers the pack’s well-being, in any way, I’m free from h
er — forever.” He sighed. “That’s the proven way, unless my true, fated mate appears, although that’s not likely. Most of our kind never locates their actual mates.”

  His last words provided an unexpected solution along with a flood of nervous jitters. I could be the woman to save him from Jazmine.

  Ridiculous! I couldn’t marry, mate, or whatever it entailed with Zane. He was a werewolf. With my assorted background I was all for interracial relationships. Interspecies? — The jury was still out on that possibility.

  I forced my thoughts back to the Jazmine issue.

  “What do you think she’s doing to threaten the pack?” I asked, hoping for an answer I could understand. Helping Zane expose her plan seemed like a pretty noble cause. Anything to keep Ms. Jazmine far-far away from Plum Beach — and me — was well worth my time.

  “I’m not sure. She’s always been manipulative. What are you thinking?” Zane drew me closer, my hand still in his.

  “That I don’t like her, and I still don’t know why those men showed up at the bar.” He’d failed to explain that little, very important piece of the puzzle. “And what about the bodies?” I was shocked the story hadn’t been splashed across the front page of today’s paper.

  “Good eye for details, Princess. Those dead dogs were here to deliver a little warning.” He grimaced. “The mutants aren’t the only ones scheming and positioning for power and money. I’ve been assigned to investigate the suspicious murders in Plum Beach, but Logan also believes that several Indian elders may be double-crossing the pack. Jazmine fits into all this somehow. The news is out now that I’m sniffing around.

  Since I’ve eliminated the messengers, things will heat up that much faster. As for the remains, I have a friend who handles clean up.”

  “Well, I think you’ve got pretty good instincts for a werewolf,” I said, hoping I sounded confident. I was pretty spooked about everything, and the idea of more danger didn’t help.

  I’d already decided I didn’t want to know anything else about his little clean up committee. What I did want to learn more about was Jazmine. I knew for certain that she was somehow up to her fangs in whatever was happening.

  To conclude our discussion, Randall, the wolf, howled an eerie wail that sent chills winding down my spine, reminding me ¯ Jazmine was a werewolf to be reckoned with — a werewolf I’d do just about anything, including howling at the moon, to keep away from Zane.

  Chapter 106

  Following the heart-to-heart about Zane’s background, I hated to admit I was coming to respect this strange wolf/man. Sure he was prideful, pushy, and pretty much a male chauvinist, but he cared about his pack and their ability to live in harmony with humans. That commitment earned high marks in my book of what to look for in a “good” man–er–werewolf.

  We spent the workday’s remaining hours interviewing the park’s diverse animal residents. None had seen the vicious intruder, though most had heard the zebra’s screams and the merciless sounds of her attacker.

  The animals shared a mutual feeling of panic. The predators alone felt semi-secure. I didn’t blame them. From what I’d seen, the creature, which I now assumed was a mutant, had no qualms about his supremacy.

  “Chloe, you’re thinking so hard that your brain might crack,” Zane teased.

  “What are you trying to say, big guy? That my mind is fragile?” Feeling playful, I elbowed him below the ribs. I was enjoying his attention and glad for a reprieve from all the scary stuff.

  The day had flown by, and I’d discovered, in spite of everything, just how much I liked his company. Having him around was enjoyable in the midst of all the madness.

  “I’d never say fragile, quite the opposite. You’re very intelligent,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  “And sexy.” He grinned, his eyes shifting again from brown to golden. A little growl rumbled deep in his throat.

  He moved closer, until he was standing just a few inches away. I could feel his body heat and smell his enticing spicy scent.

  Uncomfortable with his piercing gaze and proximity, I blurted out the one question I’d failed to ask earlier. “Are there other supernatural creatures?”

  Looking surprised by my mood-deflating query, he roared with laughter, startling the nearby tigers who roared back. “If I didn’t know better, Ms. Carpenter, I’d think you were a complete innocent.”

  “Excuse me? What’s wrong with being innocent?”

  “Well, by the way you respond to me at times, you seem almost a prude, but the way you kissed …”

  “Wait a minute, buddy, you kissed me!” How dare he? He was the one with all the untamed sexual energy.

  “Yes, I kissed you. And you, Princess, kissed me back with a high level of expertise, I might add.”

  Expertise? I couldn’t imagine appearing to be an expert in the kissing department. I’d never kissed a man, not even Jordon, the way I’d kissed Zane in the exam room. Did he think I was some Rhonda-type hussy?

  “So, you think I’m a whore?” I protested, my fists now grinding into my hips.

  “Whoa … slow down. Where in the world did you —?”

  “The park will be closing in thirty minutes. Please move toward the exits, and if you’d like to visit our gift shop please do so at this time,” Luke’s voice announced via our park-wide intercom system.

  “Good! This day’s done,” I quipped, turning to flee.

  Grabbing my arm, Zane spun me around and pulled me with an unexpected urgency to his chest. “You never allowed me to answer your last question,” he whispered, his lips warm against my ear. “I don’t think you’re a whore, not even close. I find you beautiful, smart, sexy, and a little too headstrong, but that I can live with. And, yes, there are other supernatural beings.”

  Shocked by his answer, I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze.

  His eyes shimmered gold.

  Figuring the color change had to do with amorous emotions I tried to pull away, afraid of succumbing to certain seduction. Intent on my surrender, his head dipped down and his lips crushed against mine, leaving me breathless as I melted against him, my tongue finding a perfect rhythm with his.

  Forgetting we were in a public place, I ran my hands down his muscular arms, causing him to growl, a low feral vibration that sent shivers of pleasure everywhere at once. His skillful hands caressed my back, sliding lower.

  “E-hem!” A phony throat-clearing cough interrupted his roaming hands.

  Jumping back, I was more than a little miffed to see Rhonda and a fuming Jazmine standing nearby. If Rhonda knew she was playing sidekick to a werewolf in heat, she’d run the other way.

  Zane took the interruption in stride, appearing unruffled, yet allowing the disapproval of his future mate to slither through his words. “Jazmine, how not-so-nice to see you again. Didn’t I make it clear enough last night that I would find you at the appointed time?”

  “You should know by now that I’m not so good about following rules.” Her eyes narrowed, glowing red rather than amber. Maybe red was for pissed off. I hoped I’d be alive to ask later.

  If Rhonda’s expression of hatred was any indication, I was in trouble. It was painfully clear these two women ought not to be hanging out together, with their sole focus being my demise.

  Remembering my ability to listen to werewolves, I honed in on Jazmine’s thoughts. So this is the little bitch keeping my mate from me. How will he feel when she’s a mutant and he’s required to kill her? Or, I could do the killing myself.

  Without pause, I flashed the thought to Zane, who heard me loud and clear. His lip curled in response. The look he shot Jazmine would have been enough to send me scurrying for safety. Her expression changed from smug defiance to fear, but was replaced by her usual haughtiness a blink later.

  “I guess I’ll have to find a way to teach an old dog some of my best new tricks,” she purred, eyes gleaming at Zane. “Come on, Rhonda.”

  Like the follower she was, Rhonda stomped off behind
Jazmine, not quite able to keep up with her lupine counterpart.

  “That’s it,” Zane said, his expression thoughtful. “You’re staying with me.”

  “Crazy werewolf say what?” I mimicked my cousin’s favorite teen idol.

  No way. Danger or not, I was not going straight to the dragon’s (or dog’s) lair where I’d be devoured.

  “You’re not safe at home. Jazmine is wicked and conniving, and you heard as well as I did that she wants you dead or mutanized. By the way, great idea mind-messaging me.” He pointed at his head.

  “Mutanized,” I forced a laugh. “Is that a real word or did you just make it up?” I, too, was thankful we could use mental communication. The ability might prove lifesaving, considering our combined list of increasing enemies.

  “It’s not a word, but rather a state of being; a being that I’ll do everything in my power to keep you from becoming.” He looked so fierce and very determined. I couldn’t stop the pleasure I felt knowing his desire to keep me safe.

  “What will people think?” I sputtered out of the blue, more worried about my reputation than staying alive.

  “What would they think if you were killed and I had the power to protect you? In fact, maybe we should get out of town for a few days. Ever been to Vegas?” He pulled a cell phone from his back pocket before I could respond.

  “Whoa, werewolf. Slow down a minute. Vegas? First it was your house, now Nevada?” This was getting ridiculous. I couldn’t go to Las Vegas.

  “Logan, it’s me. Things are getting more complicated in Plum Beach; can I bring a friend who needs some serious guarding?” He paused listening. “Call Mack. We’ll need him pronto.” Zane stopped to listen. “See you soon.”

  “Did you just make arrangements for both of us? Because, I sure don’t remember agreeing to your vacation plans.” My previous irritation with Zane had returned.