“It’s fine. I needed some time to get my thoughts together. Dad, I wanted to talk to you about....”
“What do you need?” my father grumbled as I padded down to meet him at the base of the stairs. “Money? Are you in trouble?”
I wanted to argue that I was the one responding to his invitation. Or to Justine’s. Whatever. He shouldn’t have jumped to the conclusion that I was a supplicant.
But the honest truth of the matter was that I did want something. So I spoke the language we had in common. No effusive greetings or prying into life changes, just went straight to the point.
“I have a lead on a find,” I started. “Out near Yellowstone. You know Mummy Cave?”
“Who doesn’t know Mummy Cave?”
Justine’s laugh this time sounded like Christmas bells. “Well, I don’t know it. But I have heard of King Tut. His tomb was so sparkly! Is Mummy Cave anything like that?” She hung on my father’s arm like one of the ornaments she lusted after, gaze trained on Dr. Hart’s face.
“Not exactly.” It seemed rude to ignore her, but my father smelled interested and I didn’t want to lose his attention. So I raced through an explanation that avoided the topics of visions and werewolves. Instead, I focused on pre-Clovis habitation and possible artifacts predating all others in North America.
“The tricky part is that I need permission to excavate test sites,” I finished. “Both inside and outside the park.”
I held my breath. Dr. Hart took connections seriously. He didn’t part with his social capital easily. If he pulled strings for me now, someone would later ask him for a favor in return.
The question became—was I worth the effort? Dad measured me with his eyes, seeing—I hoped—a twenty-eight-year-old woman with a job and a degree rather than the skinned-knee tomboy who’d collected now-absent artifacts.
I was momentarily sidetracked wondering if he’d been the one to throw my childhood collection away during a closet clean-out. Had he not realized what the items meant to me? Or—more likely—hadn’t he cared?
“Artifacts from that era would be worth a mint,” my father admitted after a moment. “And interesting things have been turning up in the Yellowstone River from time to time. You’re more tuned in than I thought you were. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”
I jolted, and not because of his back-handed compliment either. Artifacts had been showing up in Yellowstone River? Could the wolf mask from my dream be one such artifact? If so, that was more evidence my trip might not be a wild-goose chase.
I was so busy guessing at geography and how current events might relate to my prehistoric vision that I barely heard Dad’s follow up.
“We’d go fifty-fifty?”
“What? No.” I took a step backward, unable to believe Dr. Hart thought I was asking him to help me plunder such an important site. I would never sell prehistoric treasures on the black market. Instantly, my wolf woke, growling in my belly at an affront she couldn’t really understand.
I understood it, however, and I couldn’t seem to prevent myself from elaborating upon my refusal. “Anything we found would end up at a museum. You do understand that black-market sales have set science back by decades? I...”
My father interrupted with a snort. “Science.”
I was boring him. I could have kicked myself for getting up on my soapbox when I should have been stroking my father’s ego. Was it possible to rewind the clock?
To my surprise, it was Justine who turned the tide in my favor. “Now, honey. What can it hurt to help out your only daughter?”
She slithered up against my father, sex encased in silk. Her legs stretched, molded by sparkly high heels I wouldn’t have been able to walk in. She ran one long fingernail across his clean-shaven jaw.
And my father—the ice man—caved. He might even have smiled.
“You’re right. No skin off my teeth.” He speared me with a hard stare. “Just like it will be no skin off your teeth to introduce me to your special friend.”
“Special friend?” For a moment, the only friend I could think of was Claw Scordato. But then I remembered our earlier conversation—my visit to the White House, Dad’s anger that he’d been left out of a presidential introduction. “I can’t make any promises....”
Before we could finish hashing out our agreement, a fist pounded against the closed front door.
MY WOLF NEARLY LEAPT out of my skin at the intrusion. And I wasn’t saying that metaphorically. She really was clawing at my throat, seeking escape.
Which is when Claw burst inside without bothering to wait for his announcement to be answered. His shirt was half buttoned, his feet shoeless, his inner animal so rampant I could almost have stroked its head.
I only realized my wolf had raised my arm to do just that when Justine stepped between us. “Oh my,” the blonde murmured, and I couldn’t tell whether she was horrified at the intrusion or appreciative of Claw’s musculature. Whatever her impetus, my inner beast took immediate offense.
Move or we’ll move you, she demanded, clawing at the backs of my eyeballs. I flinched, then Claw was beside me. He’d moved faster than was humanly possible. I blinked again and his hand encircled my wrist.
The manacle should have spurred flashbacks to the McDonalds incident. But Claw’s fingers were gentle. Not squeezing, but cupping. His scent swirled around me as sweetly as if I’d walked into a candy shop.
Claw had learned I was in trouble and he’d come running. I’d never had anyone in my life so dependable. No wonder I softened beneath his touch.
“Come,” he told me. Or, I think, his wolf told me. My wolf answered by matching him step for step as we headed for the door.
“Do you need any help?” Justine called as we slid past her.
Vaguely, I was aware of what our exit must have looked like from the outside. Claw was dragging me cave-man-style toward my vehicle without a single word of explanation. Dr. Hart and his girlfriend watched from the doorway. Unlike an ordinary father, mine was highly unlikely to pull out a shotgun and demand that Claw unhand his daughter. But he was analyzing the situation and deciding whether I was worth continuing to know.
Justine was the only one who spoke however. “Olivia?” she repeated.
“I’m fine.” The word was breathy. I couldn’t quite manage to make my lungs inhale fully. I couldn’t quite manage to drag my gaze away from Claw’s face.
“You don’t look fine.”
We had to stop acting like werewolves and remember our humanity. With an effort, I dug in my heels and forced my wolf to stop carrying me along without my permission.
“Claw.” The first word came out easily. The next two were harder. “Stop it.”
He cocked his head, wolf at the forefront. “Is that really what you want?
Chapter 8
We stood frozen by my indecision for one long moment. Vaguely, I caught sight of the rest of the pack at the end of the gated driveway. Adena and Val played a game of catch-the-raven with Harry assisting. Theta’s annoyance was tangible even from so far away.
And...I didn’t care. Instead, I let the twinkle in Claw’s eyes draw me in deeper. I leaned into his embrace, soaking up blissful contact. I sighed when he eased backwards until we were separated by the thinnest sliver of air.
“Olivia,” he started. But my wolf didn’t let him finish. Instead, she stole my fingers and embarked on her own exploration. It was easy and natural to slip our hand beneath Claw’s unbuttoned shirt and skim fingertips across the bulge of his biceps. Even more natural to feel the rippling ridges of his abdomen then drop down lower yet....
His breath caught and my wolf angled our body closer, craving the sweet scent of butterscotch. What had been innocent and exploratory a moment earlier turned purposeful and sexual....
My father cleared his throat. Claw released me, eyes full of apology. “Mate....”
I flinched. The word—so simple—turned our warm cloak of shared understanding into a noose looped around m
y neck.
No, that wasn’t a noose, it was our pack tether. The same connection that had held me back when I tried to excise my wolf in my office now reminded me of the repercussions of yielding to animal magnetism.
If I gave in now, I’d lost my job, my students, my life’s passion.
My wolf leaned toward Claw. I leaned away from him.
“No, that’s not...” I started, then gasped as the tether tightened.
It wasn’t a tether now. Instead, the invisible necklace was made up of pointed wolf teeth.
I clawed at the invisible constriction. Would have coughed if I’d been able to exhale.
Mate, my wolf roared. But I clenched my lips shut, refusing to allow her to speak through me. Our battle was silent yet harrowing. My lungs strained against the abrupt absence of air.
As if he could hear our internal battle, Claw took one long step backwards. His hand fell away from my waist. Winter cold slipped into the gap between us.
Inside my belly, my wolf whined out her confusion. The pressure on my throat eased up as she focused outside ourselves. Claw met our eyes, looking through me and into her.
“I consider you my mate. But it’s Olivia’s decision whether she agrees with me.” His eyes widened in warning. “If this transfer works, wolf, you’ll be my sister. Not my mate.”
Claw was trying to help me regain control of my body. And it worked as anticipated. The wolf who had been struggling for prominence ever since Claw announced himself fled until she was hidden deep within my belly.
But the truth hit my human self as hard as it did my lupine half. His sister.
Losing my wolf might mean losing this intense connection. Not putting it off until the time was right. Completely severing that bond.
I turned away to stare up at my father’s mansion. Human or werewolf? Once again, it seemed like there was no middle ground.
“YOU’RE LUCKY FLINT recognized my name,” Claw said, as I stood there second-guessing my choices. The deep gravel in his voice suggesting he wanted to tear out the McDonalds mugger’s throat and use the spurting blood to paint cave walls. “I thought I explained wolf territories, but I must not have been clear. My mistake. Let me try again.”
Right. This was one of the reasons I was unwilling to stay lupine. “Oh, you explained.” The twinge in my belly felt like regret, but I told myself it was pure anger. Either way, the emotion was so profound I barely managed to keep my voice low enough so my father wouldn’t overhear. “But what did you expect me to do about it? Stay in town for the rest of my life like a dog on a leash?”
Tires crunching on gravel interrupted my tirade, and I looked up to see the pack vehicle approaching. Justine or my father must have opened the gate for them. “Family trouble?” Val asked, leaning halfway out the rear window. Adena pressed in to join her cheek to cheek.
The visible camaraderie between human and raven was over-the-top seductive. I could be in that car. I could be figuring out Claw’s magnetic attraction rather than constructing anger to wedge between us.
I could be a part of this pack... and all it would take to get there would be abandoning the goal that had fueled my entire adult life.
Good trade, my wolf whispered, her paws still over her snout as she hid inside me.
I shook my head, unwilling to reject archaeology and teaching so easily. “No. Family assistance.” I glanced sideways at Claw, and clenched my fists as I prepared to throw oil on his overprotective fire. “Val, you and I are going to Yellowstone. I have a lead that will help us with the transfer. If I blow off my Friday class, we can leave first thing Thursday morning....”
“No.”
Claw’s rejection of my plan was so curt the werewolf members of the group froze instinctively. I glanced toward the doorway of my father’s mansion—thankfully empty. So Dr. Hart wouldn’t notice how much effort it took to pry open my mouth.
“Yes,” I countered, the word like a marble between my teeth. Claw sighed, at which point I found myself able to speak freely. “Next week is spring break,” I continued, “so we have plenty of time to make this happen. We’ll drive on the way out to keep my wolf happy then fly back to save some time.”
Even as I spoke, I realized the error Claw had been getting at with his curt negation. I’d barely survived the short jaunt to my father’s residence without getting waylaid. How could I dodge territorial werewolves during a two-thousand-mile road trip west?
The obvious solution stood in front of me. Claw’s protection would make the operation feasible...but his presence would also tighten my wolf’s hold over my body.
There has to be a third door. Surely it was prudence, not cowardice, that made me dodge the issue for the moment.
“We’ll discuss this later,” I decided. Then, summoning Adena with my best commanding finger snap, I fled to the safety of my own car.
Chapter 9
The pack trailed me all the way to my house then left me. At which point my wolf made it clear that she was sick and tired of giving up her day to human planning. If I wanted to make it to class on time tomorrow, I needed to let her hunt right now.
Against my better judgment, I gave in to her demands. In lupine form, we spent half the night stalking the groundhog that had been nibbling on our neighbor’s garden. After a short but ferocious battle, we dragged the carcass inside and settled onto my bed to gulp down the meat.
The comforter was ruined, but I was rewarded for my forbearance. The next morning, I woke naked and human, my wolf quiet and content in my belly as I checked my email and prepared for class.
“Wow, Dad. Thank you.” To my surprise, my father had come through despite my less-than-classy exit. Because there were permission letters waiting for me, from both Yellowstone and the National Forest that surrounded it. Now I just needed my supervisor’s permission to blow off Friday’s class....
“Dr. Sanora? Can I bother you for a minute?” I hovered in her open doorway ten minutes before my Wednesday lecture, Adena on my shoulder. This wasn’t how I’d intended to propose the expedition, but my wolf had felt lonely and the raven was unwilling to remain outside.
“Olivia.” The department chair raised her eyebrows. “How can I help you?”
Feeling like a kid trying to talk her way out of a curfew, I dove straight into my proposal. “I have permission to excavate in and around Yellowstone this week. I—”
“That’s surprising,” my supervisor interrupted. “Yellowstone is quite a coveted location.”
“Yes, well.” I didn’t really want to bring up my father, so I sidestepped her veiled question. “I was hoping to leave Thursday. I know I’ve been late to a few classes this semester already, but—”
“What a coincidence that a major donor gifted the department with an endowment just this morning,” Dr. Sanora said dryly. “An endowment to send a professor who specializes in neolithic art on a college-sponsored research expedition each spring break. But it sounds like you already know about that windfall?”
Dad. I wasn’t so much surprised about the money as I was about the time he’d put into smoothing my pathway. Was he softening toward me, or would he expect something morally reprehensible in return?
I’d have to cross that bridge when I came to it. Aloud, I only said, “You chose me for the position?”
“You were the only one eligible.” Then, returning to business, she laid out ground rules. “You’ll take a university van and invite non-major students. Your TA can write up an article for the alumni magazine after the fact. One way or another, we’ll get good PR out of this.”
I blinked. Invite students? Bring Patricia, who had a penchant for fictional werewolves and was likely to notice inconsistencies in my behavior?
I shivered, remembering that the full moon—still a problem for my wolf, despite some improvement—lay smack dab in the middle of the break.
There was no time for argument however. Because Dr. Sanora was already opening up her laptop. “I’m glad to see you taking the initiati
ve by seeking out donors,” she concluded. “Archaeology is still very much a good old boy’s club. As a young woman, you’ll need to work twice as hard to break into their network.”
That almost sounded like...approval?
“So get your head on straight,” the older woman continued, spearing me with a glance that missed nothing. “And come back ready to work the system. I prefer not to be the only woman in this department.”
I SPENT THE REST OF the day preparing for our expedition. A van was easy to requisition, but tracking down the human inhabitants took a bit more effort.
“Patricia, wait!” I caught up with my teaching assistant as she headed toward the department office to turn in her timesheet.
“Dr. Oblivia,” the young woman greeted me, hair just as spiky as ever but smile more playful now that she’d nailed down her post-college employment.
“You shouldn’t call her that,” Suzy—the department secretary—scolded, drawing us around the corner and into her office. The older woman shook a finger at Patricia, rattling half a dozen bracelets that were even more colorful than usual.
“I don’t mind,” I started...then froze as I glanced out the window.
Claw was sauntering toward us up the sidewalk. He would have questions I wasn’t ready to answer. Ignoring my wolf’s whine of interest, I turned away to engage Patricia and Suzy in small talk.
We discussed Suzy’s next vampire book, due out next month. Learned that Patricia didn’t want to go home for spring break.
The latter point was exactly the segue I needed. “Perfect. You don’t need to,” I started, only to fall silent as my wolf turned our head in time to watch Claw taking the building’s front steps two at a time.
“I don’t have to?”
If I hoped to continue avoiding the wolf-territory problem, I needed to finish up with Patricia before Claw got here.
Quicker than was truly polite, I rushed through an explanation of the spring-break expedition. Travel, students, my need for a teaching assistant.
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