I turned around and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Despite the half-naked mountain of muscle standing there, I managed to keep the movement natural looking as I eased onto the bed. As if the sight of him with only a towel wrapped around his waist didn’t completely fluster me—yeah, right. It was a very good thing I had gotten the words out before I turned around, because my tongue was immobile in my mouth. The man’s six-pack was outshined only by pectorals and arms that would make the most dedicated gym rat jealous. And the tattoos. Oh my God, the tattoos. Swirls and intricate knots wove around his arm and partway across his chest, accenting his muscles in the most delicious way. All this time I had been trying to convince myself that what lay beneath his T-shirt wasn’t nearly as good as the cloth made it look. I had never been so happy to be so wrong.
“Icelandic.”
With all those planes of hard flesh before me, it took a moment to remember I had asked him a question, and a few more to remember what it was. After an embarrassingly long pause in which I regained my composure, I asked, “You’re from Iceland?” It would explain the tattoos that made him look as though he’d stepped off a Viking ship. Yet another tie-in to my dad’s beliefs and all those stories he told me when I was a kid. A shiver tried to run through me.
“No.”
Slowly, as if taunting me with all those delicious valleys and mountains of muscle, he crossed the room, picked up his bag, and walked back to the bathroom. My eyes widened as they took in the knotwork tattoo that continued from his arms, across his shoulders, and down his back. On his right biceps was a circle with Norse runes around it like the numbers on a clock, and in the center of that was a wolf’s head done in knotwork. It was the same symbol from the back of Raul’s jacket. The one that I had found so eerily similar to one of my dad’s tattoos. It had to be connected.
Ty didn’t close the door. I couldn’t see him, but that didn’t stop my mind from picturing that towel dropping to the floor a moment before I heard it hit.
“I am originally from Hemlock Hollow, Montana. My ancestors were from Iceland.”
Not far removed by that tantalizing hint of an accent. Unlike Raul, who sounded very American. But then, for all I knew, he worked on sounding that way. Anger, shame, and an unhealthy dose of self-loathing flashed through me. Since both had ancestors from Iceland, and both were werewolves, it made me wonder what else they had in common. Though I had no intentions of the horizontal variety on this guy, I still didn’t want him to be a thing like that bastard. “Do you belong to the same pack Raul does?” I snapped.
His head poked out around the doorframe. Furrowed brows pinched his blue eyes. “Definitely not. The mark from his jacket, the one on my back, it is the symbol of our ancestors.”
Chills danced along my skin. My dad had said something like that.
His head disappeared into the bathroom again.
My mouth opened, but the words wouldn’t come out. I didn’t know this guy well enough to trust him with info like that yet. The fact that I was ridiculously attracted to him made me want to trust him less, not more.
I tried to focus on something else. “What do the rockers on Raul’s jacket mean? Is he in a gang?”
“AVW stands for American Viking Werewolf. Montana is the state he hails from. Many of our kind belong to a secondary organization—an umbrella pack some call it—in addition to their pack. It helps keep them connected to our kind all across the world and adds strength to their pack.”
The water came on and I waited for it to shut off before asking my next question. “Do you belong to an…umbrella pack?”
Silence stretched out so long, I didn’t think he was going to answer.
“I am a lone wolf,” he finally said, voice husky with vulnerability.
That he wasn’t a member of an organization—umbrella pack, whatever he wanted to call it—was a huge relief. Yet, I couldn’t lie to myself. Seeing him behind the wheel of a muscle car or straddling a racing motorcycle would be hot. Again, my mind had to beat back my traitorous imagination and recall what we were talking about. “Is that where Raul’s trial will be? Hemlock Hollow?” The anger caused by speaking that man’s name helped burn away my desire, bringing focus.
“Yes, and that is where we are going, eventually, if you wish to go to the trial.” Ty’s voice grew louder as he walked out of the bathroom, unfortunately fully dressed. Even the way the man talked was sexy, all grammatically correct and scholarly. Oh God, I had never been hot for a teacher. Med school didn’t leave time for such juvenile things. What the hell was happening to me?
Jeans and a dark blue T-shirt, both tight enough to suggest the wonders that I now knew lay beneath, clad all that gorgeous skin. Well, I didn’t know all that lay beneath… I had to drag my eyes up from his crotch to meet his gaze. Along the way I couldn’t help but notice the smug smile on his face. And was that a hint of desire in his own eyes?
“I wouldn’t miss it,” I said as I stood, hands curling into fists.
Ty shook his head, his wet locks sending droplets flying. “Beautiful and dangerous.” He blinked twice, hard, and forced his gaze away. “I apologize, that was inappropriate.”
A thrill shot straight down to my groin. I grinned. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” I hadn’t meant for it to sound so dirty, but it was out and taking it back would only make it worse.
A grin flashed before he turned away.
At twenty-seven years old, I wasn’t about to swoon over a sexy guy calling me beautiful. Quite the contrary. Or so I told myself. It gave me power, a power I might have to use later. While he gathered his things I pulled my shoes on and tried not to watch him too much. It was difficult. He moved with a grace unusual for a man his size. All the body builders I had seen at the gym had a stiffness to their movements, as if their muscles weren’t used to much more than lifting weights. Ty moved with a fluidity that was almost mesmerizing. Now who had the power? Ugh.
“I’m ready to hit the road. Where is this Hemlock Hollow?” I asked as I put my jacket on and slung my bag over my shoulder.
“Northwest, far north.”
He opened the door and stepped aside for me. Charming as it was, prickles of caution traveled across my back as I bared it to him when I walked past. Only after he stepped alongside me in the hall did the tension drain from me.
“So what’s the plan then? We head for Hemlock Hollow?”
His face went stoic as a shadow passed over it, one that told me he wasn’t eager to go to Hemlock Hollow. He shook his head. “The trial is not until after the full moon, so we have a few weeks. We must get you through the verða by then, anyway. You do not want to go to Hemlock Hollow until after that.”
“Why?” I couldn’t keep the suspicion from my voice, and I didn’t try.
Eyes locked on the long hallway ahead, he answered, “Three packs inhabit the town and right now they are…at odds. Your creation has only amplified the tension. You need to be at your full strength before meeting any of them.”
Three packs. I wasn’t sure which bothered me more: knowing there were that many, or hearing them called packs. It made it all feel like a fantasy. But fantasies didn’t sprout fangs that were all too real, fangs that were pushing at my lips right now. “Why do I need to be at full strength?”
Though we had reached the end of the hall, he stared at the elevator. From the distant sound and the vibrations coming through the floor, it was clearly several floors down. Still, he stared at the closed steel doors and did not answer. I grabbed his rock-hard biceps, and with a show of strength that surprised me, turned him toward me. If I was going to take the trip to crazy town, I had to know more.
“Why?” I demanded.
His chest collapsed inward a bit as a long breath blew from him. “The answer will infuriate you, and being newly bitten, that could force you to change. I will tell you, I promise, but not until you have had a chance to get more control over your wolf. It is not safe.”
Whoa. My mind conjured up every
horror movie I’d ever seen in which a werewolf changed violently and painfully. I so wasn’t ready for anything remotely close to that. The answer wasn’t worth it, not yet. The elevator arrived with a hollow ding, opening to an empty chamber. We stepped inside and leaned against opposite walls, staring at each other.
My anger receded enough that the burning beneath my skin cooled and the ache in my jaws faded. “Will I look like something out of a horror movie, or just like a wolf?”
“A wolf, unless you count the fangs and claws you can grow while in human form.”
Pushing away the panic, I thought about that for a moment. “If I can control it, those could be useful.”
His lips turned up into the beginning of a grin, and he nodded. The elevator settled on the lobby floor with a jolt that wrenched my gaze from his captivating eyes. Part of me wanted to know if the pull I felt toward him was a werewolf thing, but I didn’t dare ask in case it was something far more basic. With a nod and a look, he invited me to leave the elevator first.
He walked straight for the exit. The desk clerk didn’t even look up as we passed.
“Already settled the bill?” I asked as we reached the doors.
A full—oh-so-handsome—grin dimpled both of his cheeks. Seeing it made me ache on a level I didn’t want to think about. “Yep. This one’s on Raul.”
Laughter spilled from me as we stepped out into the bright morning. Served him right. He had that and so much more coming. The scents of concrete and exhaust fumes assaulted my nose. And was that garbage I could smell? Crinkling my nose up and attempting to breathe through my mouth, I led the way toward the parking garage.
“Wow, this city smells bad,” I said.
Stepping up beside me as we entered the shade of the many-tiered garage, Ty nodded. “That is the verða. Your sense of smell is stronger than it has ever been, and it will get stronger still.”
Voices drifted to me, along with the sounds of keys jingling and luggage being dropped into a trunk. Though the people were nowhere in sight, I could almost swear I heard the groan of the car’s shocks as they got in it.
“Right, the canine thing,” I said softly.
If a lot of werewolves occupied this Hemlock Hollow, I could see how I might be at a disadvantage. “How many…” I searched my memory for the Icelandic word he had used, in case anyone overheard us, “…varúlfur are there in Hemlock Hollow?”
“Just under fifteen hundred.”
The morning suddenly felt far too warm. I unlocked the passenger door of the Jeep for him with a shaking hand before going around to the back to throw in my bag. “How many people are in the town?”
“Just under fifteen hundred.”
Shock reverberated through me as if I were a tuning fork. For several seconds I couldn’t breathe. The Jeep shook a bit from the impact of the tailgate slamming shut too hard. “Sorry, baby,” I muttered as I walked around to the driver’s side.
As I settled into the seat, started the Jeep, and shifted into reverse, I couldn’t speak. Foot still on the brake, I looked over at Ty filling up my passenger seat like a wall of muscle. That wasn’t fair, I supposed, but everything about him made me nervous, muscle included. The sight of him was a reminder of how deep over my head I was in. Finally, I found my voice.
“So where are we going until the full moon?” I asked.
“My place outside of Missoula.”
“Don’t you have a car?” I asked.
One hand on the side of his seat, I turned to look behind me and backed out of the parking space. Heat radiated off his body as if he were a furnace set on slow burn. I wanted to reach into that heat and see if it would scald me. The temptation was so strong I almost let my hand slide down onto his shoulder. As I shifted into first gear, I quickly withdrew my hand with a silent vow to keep all my body parts on my side of the vehicle.
“Not here. A friend brought me,” he said.
Was that a touch of humor I heard in his voice? My teeth clenched at the idea he might know the effect he had on me.
“You were that confident that I’d leave with you?” I asked.
He dipped his head to the side in a sort of shrug. “That hopeful. And I knew if you did, you would likely not want to leave your own vehicle behind.”
Thoughtful and hot. Was it too much to ask for this guy to have a few flaws?
“So packs, huh?” As my shock subsided, a deep need to know everything filled its place.
He made an affirmative noise. Sunlight reduced my eyes to slits as I pulled from the parking garage onto the street. Ty touched my arm, nearly making me jump. I glanced over to see him handing me my sunglasses that had been hung over the passenger grab bar.
My skin burned in a nipple-hardening way from where his fingers brushed mine. “Thank you. Tell me about the packs,” I said, feigning an indifference I didn’t feel.
His smile faded and his attention moved to the road. “How about we save that for when we get to my place? You will not like what I have to say about Raul’s pack. We cannot have you losing your temper while driving.”
I ground my teeth together—an act made more difficult by the fangs that had extended. The damn things made it hard to argue the point. “Fine. In that case, I’m turning the radio on because just about everything I want to ask you is likely going to piss me off or freak me out.”
Zen as a damn monk, he crossed his arms over his chest and settled back into his seat. “That is probably a good idea.”
Reaching for the stereo, I started making a mental list of all the things I would demand to know the moment we pulled up to his place. The soulful voice of Buddy Guy began to wail from my speakers, soothing my irritation instantly. Swaying my head to the music, I bit my bottom lip to keep from singing along. Ty’s eyes settled on me with a weight I couldn’t ignore.
“What?” I asked.
Eyebrows rising, he shook his head slowly. “Blues. I would not have guessed you liked the blues.”
I gave him as hard a look as one can through one’s peripheral vision. “If you don’t like blues, I’m afraid you’re going to have to get out of my vehicle right now.”
Laughing, he threw his hands up in the air. “I love blues. It surprises me that you do.”
Part of that was hot, and part of it pissed me off. Was he surprised because he didn’t think I was cultured enough to enjoy great music? “And why is that?”
Tight lines formed around his lips as he smiled, almost as though it pained him. “You surprise me, that is all.”
Tired of the lack of forthcoming answers, I shook my head, turned up the stereo, and focused on the road. Regardless of what was happening to me, I began to wonder at the wisdom of what I was doing. A strange guy in my car leading me to a strange place where no one knew I was going was a monumentally bad idea. No matter how I fought it, though, something about Ty put me at ease. I loved and hated it, craved and wanted nothing to do with it.
Less than ten minutes later, my growling stomach shattered any plans of silently enduring the drive. With the way it felt like it was trying to eat me from the inside out, there wasn’t a chance I was going to make it without stopping for food, no matter how close his place was. As if to strengthen the point, my vision began to swim. I reached up and turned the stereo down.
“I’m starving,” I said.
Ty nodded. “The verða is making your body burn through fuel at an accelerated rate. There is a diner a few miles ahead.”
I rolled my window down, the motion of the old-style hand crank only making things sway worse. Before me, the road blurred. Cool air rushed in, driving back the dizziness that threatened to overtake me.
“Raul is not known for choosing women with depth. That is why you surprise me so much,” Ty said out of the blue.
The very mention of Raul’s name sent a shard of anger shooting through me. My vision cleared. “Yeah, well, I’m not known for choosing guys like him. I had a moment of weakness,” I snapped.
For some reason, the
idea of Ty thinking badly of me because I had been so close to inviting Raul into my apartment rubbed me all kinds of wrong. Maybe because what I had said had been such a blatant lie. I was known for choosing guys like Raul. Not werewolves, of course, but bad boys that you didn’t take home to the family. Though it wasn’t as if I had a family to take one home to. The thought of Ty knowing that about me stung. He was the first person in many years to reach out and try to help me. Despite the fact that I didn’t trust him, I didn’t want to mess that up like I did everything else.
“I am not judging. I know Raul. He could probably charm the pants off a nun.”
Laughter erupted from my lips, surprising me, helping me focus. Grinning, Ty guided me off the main road with a few directions and into the parking lot of a diner. I let out a long breath as I shut the Jeep off, then met his gaze.
“Thank you for helping me focus. I was pretty close to passing out back there,” I said.
Brows pinched together, he nodded and looked down as if the seatbelt required his full attention. “I know. I am sorry. I should not have let you leave the hotel without eating.”
Hand on the door handle, I paused to give him a hard look. “I’m a grown woman. I should have said something earlier about being hungry.” I didn’t want to admit that I liked the idea of him looking out for me.
“Fair enough.”
The warm morning air filled with scents of the city wrapped around me as I climbed from the Jeep. So many smells mingled together that it was overwhelming: the unpleasant acidic asphalt, sickly sweet garbage mingled with the metallic tang of a dumpster, warm steel of car engines, all beneath the seductiveness of eggs, meat, and hot cooking oil. One hand held over my nose, I tried not to gag as I made my way to the sidewalk in front of the diner. I would have thought the overwhelming scents would steel away my appetite, but my stomach growled even more fiercely than before.
“Do not worry. You will be able to control your sense of smell eventually. Try breathing through your mouth and concentrating on one scent,” Ty said.
Bitten & Beholden (Children of Fenrir Book 2) Page 7