Marked by the Wolf (A New Adult Urban Fantasy)

by Lee Mae

  What it would be like to have Taryn with him all the time, under the same roof? She’d be safe even if he weren’t there, the pack looking out for her, out of respect as alpha female. And, Sam hoped, out of respect for Taryn.

  24

  The tattoo shop really wasn’t even a shop. The guy apparently worked out of his house, a tiny wood fronted building wedged between two tall brick buildings, one a grocery store and the other, a quick cash loan place. A neon sign blinked in the front window, one of the letters burned out, flashing ‘Ta too’ to a disinterested and apathetic neighborhood.

  Once inside the door Sam instantly realized this guy was probably just a scratcher, a kitchen magician, using the tattoo business as a front for selling drugs. Sam caught a whiff of weed, pungent and skunky, along with the cat-urine smell of meth, and finally, buried beneath those, the legitimate smells of tattoo ink, green soap and the sharp bite of alcohol.

  And then, suddenly, above all of that was Taryn’s scent, definitely out of place with the stink of the place.

  Sam was standing in what was once probably a living room, a tiny space with myriad doorways, the only window to the street covered with a heavy curtain. A huge sagging couch took up most of one wall, with a scarred coffee table set in front of it. There was barely enough room to maneuver around those pieces of furniture before running into a rectangular kitchen table tight against the other wall.

  As a home, this would have been a dismal place. As a tattoo shop it was even worse. What the hell Taryn was doing here? Finding her and dragging her out became a viable option, over his shoulder, if he needed to.

  He turned at the sounds of beads rattling. Taryn appeared from a doorway on the right, parting the beaded curtain that covered the opening.

  “Hey, hi Sam! Nice surprise to see you. What’s up?”

  She crossed the narrow space and he pulled her against him, breathing her in, relishing the feel of her body in his arms.

  “I missed you. Wanted to see you, see where you work.” Sam closed his eyes, burying his nose in her hair. Cinnamon and cloves and roses surrounded him and for a minute he was lost in just holding her. Everything was right when he knew she was safe. And the only place he knew she was safe was in his arms.

  “So, you’re Taryn’s dude.”

  The voice startled Sam. He lifted his head, still holding Taryn.

  “Um…yeah. Ryan, this is Sam. Sam…Ryan. My boss, I guess.” Taryn gently extricated herself from Sam’s arms.

  Ryan was tall and thin, nondescript lank hair hitting his shoulders, with the twitchy nature of a meth addict. Sam wondered how he managed to hold still long enough to work on anyone. And then he decided he’d rather not know.

  “Nice to meet you.” Ryan stuck out his hand and Sam shook it, noting the grimy bitten nails.

  “Good to meet yah. Taryn says you’re cool, so, you know, it’s okay that you kick around. I got…um, like work to do though so I’ll see you’s later.”

  With a gesture, halfway between a wave and a salute, Ryan sauntered back through the doorway, brushing the beads aside, tangling the strands.

  Taryn sighed. “Yeah, one of my jobs…untangling that damned curtain.” She laughed.

  “Come on, sit with me. Let me tell you about my new job.” She pulled him down on the couch. It smelled old and musty and sagged alarmingly under his weight.

  “Taryn, wait a minute. Did you hear about…there was another murder? In your building.”

  Taryn shook her head, her smile fading. “No. When did it happen?”

  “Sometime Saturday. They think late Saturday night.”

  “Oh.” Taryn’s eyes widened slightly, her face going pale. “Did they say who?”

  “The last name was Feldman…”

  Taryn gasped, hand over her mouth. “He was my neighbor. A nice old man…who would want to hurt him?”

  Tears gathered in her eyes and Sam pulled her against his shoulder. She resisted briefly before relaxing into his embrace.

  “It’s okay to cry, Taryn. It’s a shock. Someone you knew. It’s okay.” He murmured other meaningless sounds over her head as he stroked her hair. After a few minutes, she sat up, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.

  “I can’t say I never cry anymore. Now I only cry around you.” She looked at him, the corners of her mouth turned up, but the smile not quite reaching her eyes. Sam held her hand and she settled against him.

  “I’m glad you’re staying with Lori, that you’re not alone. Someone…or something…is out there and I worry about you. Especially walking at night”

  Taryn frowned. “You think it’s the same person that killed China and Neon, and the boyfriend guy?”

  “I don’t know.” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. There was so much at stake right now and the last thing he wanted was to mess this up. She’d never told him anything about being attacked in the alley and he couldn’t tell her.

  “You really never told me what happened, in the alley, or why you quit the club.”

  Taryn sat up, glanced at him in surprise. “It’s a long story. And it’s not a pretty one. None of my stories ever are, I guess. Can we save it for another time? I’m supposed to be working.”

  Sam looked around at the empty room. He could hear Ryan in the back, either talking to himself or on the phone.

  “Ryan a good guy?”

  “Yeah, he’s okay…I guess. But…” She leaned over, her lips next to Sam’s ear. “He’s nothing like you.”

  A shiver skittered down his spine as she licked his earlobe, her tongue trailing slowly down his neck, then her lips next, gently kissing her way back up toward his ear. Her hand rested on his thigh, her fingers sliding up his leg, moving dangerously closer to the apex of his thighs. Sam shifted, legs parting slightly, the first delicious stirrings of arousal coursing through him.

  “Taryn…I thought you said you were supposed to be working.” He turned his head and any response she had was stopped by his kiss. It was hot and wet and passionate, and he grabbed her head, winding his fingers into hair.

  “Taryn!” Ryan’s harsh voice was loud. Taryn jumped, pulling away from Sam, ducking her head.

  “Duty calls.” Sam watched her walk through the beaded curtain and then heard muffled voices.

  He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, enjoying the too-quickly fading feelings Taryn had aroused in him, the pleasant tingle of her touch gradually leaving his skin.

  The voices from the back became louder, Ryan’s with a sharp edge, Taryn’s lower but more insistent. Sam was almost ready to step through the beaded curtain when Taryn came back into the room.

  “Everything okay?” Sam leaned forward. He wasn’t sure if Taryn was angry or scared, but her mouth was a firm line, her jaw clenched, head down.

  “Yeah, sort of. He’s…I think he wants you to leave. He said if you’re not getting a tattoo then you can’t just hang out.” She met his eyes, brows furrowing.

  Sam stood. “It’s okay. Not your fault. Like you said, you’re supposed to be working and I should leave you to it.” He pulled her close, kissing the top of her head.

  “Come see me tonight, okay? I miss you when you’re gone.” Sam tilted her face to his and brushed his lips across hers. She closed her eyes briefly, a sensuous smile playing across her face.

  “Yeah. I like the sound of that. I’m done here at ten. Is that too late?”

  “It’s never too late. But take a cab. No walking or buses.” He reached for his wallet, but she put her hand over his.

  “I got this, Sam. I can take care of myself, you know. Was doing that a long time before I met you.”

  He looked down into her eyes. There was a stubborn hardness there and it took him by surprise.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…I just want you to be safe, that’s all.”

  She was shaking her head, but she was smiling now. “I know. But like I said, I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. And nothing’s happened ye
t.”

  Sam sighed, resigned to letting her have her way, but not happy about it. He opened his mouth but Taryn put a finger to his lips.

  “And no, you can’t come get me either.”

  He frowned and she laughed.

  “Sam, I can read you like a book. Now go before Ryan remembers you’re here.”

  25

  By the time Sam returned to the house, most of his pack was there, along with several members of Bec’s pack, but Bec was nowhere in sight. They’d gathered in the living room, pulling chairs in from the kitchen and the library, leaving room for Sam in front of the flat screen television. They fell silent when he entered.

  “Thanks for coming. I think we’re set…” He glanced at Rand, one of his…one of Bec’s pack members.

  “Is Bec coming?”

  Rand shook his head and the subtle restless shifting among the other members of Bec’s pack sent a ripple of apprehension through Sam. Something was afoot, but he didn’t have time to try to figure out Bec’s leadership problems at the moment.

  “You’ve all heard about the murders over the past few days. There were three at a strip club by the Delaware Expressway last week and one at an apartment building not far from there on Saturday.”

  There was a low murmur among the group, some shaking their heads. Apparently Bec wasn’t keeping his pack up to date on this.

  “I just want all of you to keep your eyes and ears open, nose to the ground. Be on alert. Those of you who were with us at full moon know what we saw. For those who weren’t at the house, here’s the run-down on what we know.”

  Sam paced the length of the room. “We saw a wolf-like…thing. I can’t describe it other than it looked wolf-like, acted like one of us, with intelligence and purpose. It has a very distinct smell…rotten, putrid…and tastes just as bad.

  “There’s something odd about its body. It’s misshapen, distorted, almost like it’s mutated or an aberrant.” Sam took a deep breath.

  “But the most concerning thing about this…thing that we know so far is that it either changes at will or it’s in this form permanently.”

  The room went silent, everyone looking at him. He ran a hand over his face, not really knowing what to say next. His father had always made this part look so easy, standing in front of the pack, charismatic and authoritative, speaking with confidence.

  There was a sudden tightness in his chest. He swallowed, his throat constricted. In that instant, he missed his father more than he ever had, ever thought he could. And he also had, for the first time, serious doubts about his ability to lead this pack.

  But this wasn’t the time or place for that. There was a room full of his pack members, all looking to him for leadership. And right now, he needed to pull himself together and give them that leadership. He owed his father’s memory at least that much.

  “We all need to careful, more than usual. Keep your senses open to anything that seems out of place, but don’t, under any circumstances, try to take this thing on by yourself. Find me, find Bec, and we’ll get the packs together. This thing is even more powerful than we are. I don’t want to lose any of you to heroics.”

  There were heads nodding here and there. Finn was the first to speak.

  “Do you think it’s a lycanthrope? Not a werewolf?”

  “I’d say it probably is. We only saw it briefly, before it attacked two girls who were in the alley by the strip club.”

  “It fits the description, doesn’t it? Bigger, stronger, can change at will.” Finn was sitting forward in his chair, eyes intent on Sam.

  “But it’s not a lycanthrope. You’re wrong, Sam.”

  Heads turned toward the back of the room. Bec was leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest. He stood for a moment before he straightened, walking toward Sam and continued.

  “It was on all fours, not walking upright like a lycanthrope. It may have been stronger, but it was deformed. I saw it and you said so yourself. No lycanthrope would be deformed. They’re almost perfect in form. This one was diseased looking.”

  Bec now stood in front of Sam, head cocked, jaw thrust forward. Sam knew the look in Bec’s eye. It was the same challenging look he’d always gotten from his little brother, when they were much younger, daring Sam to prove he was right, daring Sam to back up his words with action.

  Sam sighed inwardly. This was not how he wanted this meeting to turn out, with Bec challenging him in front of his own pack.

  “Bec, we know what we saw…”

  “And we disagree.” Bec turned to the group. “Be careful, stay sharp, but trust your instincts. This thing needs to be dealt with and we need to do that quickly, before it kills again.”

  There was a disquieted murmuring among the group. Bec turned, walking out of the room, most of his pack members followed him. Sam was left at the front of the room, fists clenched on his hips. His own brother had just come in, taken control of his meeting, and then walked out.

  Finn remained behind, joining Sam. “You don’t agree, do you? With Bec, or how he wants to handle this.”

  Sam shook his head. “No, I don’t. I saw that thing, I know how strong it was, what it’s capable of. Finn, it leapt over a wall. Bec’s cavalier attitude…” Sam stopped, taking a deep breath. Trash talking about his brother in front of a pack member wasn’t going to help.

  “You don’t think Bec is taking this seriously enough?” Finn watched him closely.

  “I don’t know what Bec is thinking, on this, or with most things.”

  Finn nodded. “There’s a group of us that feel the same, some of Bec’s renegade pack as well. They want to come back, but they’re not sure…”

  “Not sure if I’ll take them back?” Sam sighed. He wasn’t surprised to hear this, but he hadn’t expected to hear it so soon.

  “Yeah. Exactly.”

  “Tell them they’re always welcome back. No bad blood, nothing to be said. No apologies needed. That includes Bec, but I doubt he’ll take hearing that from you.”

  Finn followed Sam into to the kitchen. He glanced at the clock; was after ten and he wondered where Taryn was. Finn was still talking and he tried hard to follow the thread of the conversation, but his mind was only on when he would see her again.

  26

  Lori had already left for work by the time Taryn got back to the apartment. She had detoured there, wanting desperately to change clothes, to put on something sexy, something easy to get out of, before she went to see Sam. She also wanted out of the clothes she’s worn at Ryan’s. They carried the lingering scent of the tattoo shop and it nauseated Taryn.

  Lori’s bedroom now contained all of Taryn’s clothes, crammed onto every horizontal surface, and in every available space. The bedroom had been cluttered before, but now it was a complete disaster. Taryn looked around, rummaging through her belongings. There were still things at her apartment she wanted to get, but there was no way in hell she was going back there by herself. Maybe Sam would come with her.

  Her brows drew together at the thought of Sam and his protective nature. Part of her, a large part, was happy to have someone who cared about her, who wanted to look after her. She got that clichéd warm and fuzzy feeling thinking about how he felt about her.

  However, there was a tiny part of her that resisted all of this. Earlier at the tattoo shop, she’d bristled at his offer of cab fare. She’d really wanted to take the money. God knows she could have used it.

  But that stubborn little voice in her brain spoke up, made her stop him. And she ended up borrowing cab fare from Ryan for later, and then walking home from work to Lori’s apartment.

  Sam’s house was where she wanted to be. She finally unearthed a short skirt and black t-shirt and some decent heels. It was like playing dress up, trying to look like a lady for a change. Her reflection in the mirror told her that she looked pretty good and she nodded, satisfied.

  She left a note for Lori on the kitchen table, letting her know she probably wouldn’t be ho
me until the next morning, not to wait up. She bit her lip, remembering the first night she’d spent here and the pain in Lori’s voice as she’d rolled over and gone to sleep. Taryn had tried talking to Lori the next day, but in typical Lori fashion, she refused to admit there was anything wrong. But she’d been cold and distant the next morning.

  Taryn had made a big deal out of wanting to go shopping on Sunday, and Lori had finally given up being sullen and come along with her. They’d had fun and it seemed that night that things were less strained.

  The cab finally dropped her off at Sam’s house. She was struck again by its size, the solid brick building set back from the street. The porch light was on and she took the stairs slowly, enjoying the quiet of the neighborhood.

  She was just about to ring the doorbell when the door opened and several men walked out, deep in conversation. The last one held the door for her, nodding his head as she walked past.

  All the lights were on downstairs and Taryn hesitated, not sure where to go. Then she heard Sam’s voice and made her way toward the kitchen.

  Sam was standing at the table, talking to a sandy-haired man. He was so serious looking, his jaw clenched, eyes narrowed. She paused in the doorway and Sam looked up.

  The change in his expression was instant and amazing and Taryn’s heart fluttered a bit, knowing it was because of her. He was smiling at her, his eyes lighting up. He said something to the other guy, who turned to give her a curious look, and then Sam was there, pulling her into his arms.

  “Taryn…” It took her by surprise, the intensity in the way he held her, his face buried against her neck.

  “Come on.” He took her by the hand and led her out of the kitchen and up the wide stairs.

  “Are you okay?” She turned as he closed the door behind them. He crossed the narrow distance between them and his lips were on hers, passion evident, barely restrained. She gave herself over to the kiss, parting her lips, his tongue swirling against hers.