by S Bolanos
“Do you think that will work?”
“It’s the best we’ve got. And I have no desire to bring any extra scents home with us.” I tied the bag tight and for reasons that eluded me proceeded to replace the items I'd moved.
“I cannot wait to stop touching this thing. I feel like I could take ten baths and still smell it,” I said when we returned to the familiar bustle and noise of the office.
“I’m not saying bleach should be involved, only that you might want to consider it.” I chuckled at Charline’s extreme suggestion.
“Come to think of it, I’m not really sure how well werewolves stand up to chemicals.”
“Shit.” Charline’s sudden expletive caught me off guard.
“What is it?”
“We have company.” She gestured towards our destination. Above my cubicle wall, I could make out two heads.
My hiss caught the attention of the nearest cubicle’s occupant. “I knew we should have said something.”
Charline gave a groan beside me. “This should be fun.”
I took a fateful step into their line of sight and held up my hands in what I hoped was a placating gesture. “Now before you start—”
Michael’s hand encircled my arm and he dragged me the rest of the way into the small space. “What the hell were you thinking?” His harsh whisper immediately had my hackles up.
“I was thinking this was the plan,” I hissed back. His frown deepened. “Remember the plan? I was there. You were there. We were all there.” My sweeping gesture encompassed our small party. “And we all agreed on it.”
“We didn’t agree to you two traipsing off without a word about—”
“This isn’t the place for this,” I cut him off. “Besides, in case you hadn’t noticed, we found something.” I tossed the bag to David who snatched it out of the air with ease. He gave it a not so discreet sniff then scrunched his nose and put the offending item at arm’s length.
Michael’s searing gaze never shifted from me. “I don’t give a damn what you found. You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”
“Eh-hem,” Charline fake coughed in an attempt to get Michael to temper his increasing volume.
He shot her a look and David intervened, gently pulling him back. Judging by the fire in Michael’s eye, I was a little surprised he didn’t bite him for his trouble.
“Look man, relax. They’re fine. They’re back, they’re safe. And she has a point. Granted, a little more communication would’ve been nice.” He spared Charline and me a look before returning his attention to Michael. “Sara didn’t do anything the pack wouldn’t have expected.”
Storm clouds brewed on Michael’s face. “You weren’t so okay with this ten minutes ago.”
David’s mouth fell open. “That’s different. She can’t defend herself like Sara can.”
“What’s this?” Challenge laced Charline’s question as she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and tapped her foot, the perfect image of dignified outrage.
“Char,” David tried. Her blistering look should have left burn marks on the wall behind him.
I quickly interjected before she could unleash. “Yes, I know we should have told you we were headed out, but it wouldn’t be much of a divide-and-conquer if all we did was tail each other around.”
David gave a resigned sigh. “I guess we’ll convene about it later. I know we didn’t cover this before, but I think that whenever we aren’t out searching, we should stay together as much as possible. Create the illusion that we’re traveling in a pack instead of the suicide missions we’re currently operating.”
Michael’s scowl seemed permanently stamped on his face, David was clearly digging a hole he had no hope of getting out of, and Charline looked like she might miraculously sprout claws.
“Fine, but I’m tired of cooking at Michael’s. After work, we meet at my house. I imagine you can remember how to get there on your own?” Pure Southern hostility undercut the question. Without another word, she made her way past the blockade, magically not touching either of them, and vanished into the bustle of the office.
I, however, did not have the luxury of storming out of my own cubicle, so I did the next best thing and blatantly ignored them. After suffering several seconds of feeling like there was an itch between my shoulder blades, I spun to face them.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be? A job that involves bossing other people around?”
David wisely didn’t respond and slipped quietly out of my office.
“And as for you,” I said, turning to Michael, “I wasn’t aware you’d transferred departments.”
His jaw tightened and a muscle twitched in his cheek.
I raised my eyebrows. “Are you the new assistant I keep telling Bob I need or do you also have somewhere else you need to be?”
Michael’s eyes flashed and he stalked off in sullen silence.
I counted to thirty before I dared breathe a sigh of relief. I knew it had been a mistake to not leave a note. The only mercy from the whole interaction was that David had taken the revolting bag with him.
That’s it, I’m going straight to Charline’s after work. Do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars.
No sooner did I have the thought, then my phone dinged. I looked down to find a message from Michael. My hope for an apology shriveled at reading the ominous text.
27
Triggers
A strangled sound of indignant rage stuck in the back of my throat as I shook the steering wheel, barely remembering to check my strength before I snapped it clean off. I removed my white-knuckled grip and tried again at a steadying breath. Finally, I looked up at the Jeep parked in front of me. A chill slithered down my spine as I took in the driver side door swaying in the breeze.
“Oh no.” I scrambled out of the car and raced towards the house.
My feet stopped dead on the threshold and my heart tried to do the same. The front door swung into the shadowed interior, its crimson paint a disconcerting match to the glistening liquid on the wooden floors. I took a ragged breath and stepped into the gloom, the sun back-lighting me made it impossible to focus my night vision.
Maybe I should close the door so I can see better.
Even half paralyzed with fear, that sounded like a terrible idea. I took another nervous step. The shadows thickened enough to let me make out the state of the room. The coffee table lay shattered. The couch sat on its side. Pillows and papers covered the ground in haphazard chaos. When I didn’t find a body, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
“Michael?”
A low growl emanated from the darkness.
I fought the reflex to squeeze my eyes shut while every fiber of my being screamed at me to run. Thankfully, some rational part of me recognized that impulse as the exact wrong thing to do. I slowly turned to face the threat. Indistinct shadows danced along the ground and the menacing sound rolled out once more.
My heart pounded, the rushing of blood in my ears drowning out the world. As if sensing my dread, the growl came again an octave lower. At the same time, a small sound of pain emanated from deeper in the house, slicing through the noise to stab into me.
Michael.
I scarcely dared to breathe as my foot slid a fraction forward in the direction of the tiny sound. A soft scrape of claw on wood raked across my nerves, unnaturally loud in the small space. I attempted another cautious step and found no purchase.
My body lurched forward as my foot unexpectedly slipped several inches farther than I'd intended. Teeth flashed in the amber glow of the setting sun and my instincts won out. I bolted, not out the door, but deeper into the house.
Weight barreled into my side, sending me careening into the toppled couch. An exposed leg punched into my gut and I gasped. Serrated teeth ripped into my arm. Bright spots of light exploded across my vision doing nothing to illuminate the world around me. I screamed and the wolf inside fought
to take control.
I scrabbled uselessly along the ground. Cold seeped into my core as my vision blurred red. The nearly impossible task of fighting off a wolf three times my size compounded with my own inner struggle not to shift. With mounting terror, I realized I was losing both battles.
My nails scored the floor under me as the beast dragged me deeper into the house. Desperate, I pulled back on the captive arm. The pain crystallized and I almost bit off my tongue to stop the scream from tearing free. His growl echoed off the walls and inside of my chest. My fight not to change moments from being lost, even as I recognized I’d die before I finished.
Light blasted to life around me. Through the haze of pain, Michael swam into focus. He stood in the kitchen, arms crossed, a look of disappointment clouding his face.
“Enough.”
Confusion briefly eclipsed the pain. Then my arm fell to the ground. I looked down at the appendage in wonder, amazed to find minimal damage as opposed to shredded flesh. My gaze transferred to my attacker who sat staring at me with unblinking eyes.
“David?” Once I said it, I knew without a doubt, it was true.
He immediately slunk off to change back. Now that my fear no longer dominated my senses, I could clearly distinguish his scent as well as Michael’s. Another scent, however, was noticeably lacking—the iron smell of fresh blood.
“You tricked me.” The slap of sound did nothing to faze Michael’s mask of apathy.
“You were warned.”
“I wasn’t warned that I’d be deceived into believing you were dying!” That earned the tiniest of a flinch.
“You needed to believe it.” I could scarcely hear the words over the roaring in my ears.
My anger from earlier returned in full force as I fumed in silence. After several tense minutes, I shifted to a seated position, but stayed where I'd been dragged while I tried to get a grip on my seething rage.
“None of this will do any good if you don’t feel there is real danger. You know and trust both of us,” David said as he returned to the grisly scene.
“We had to get creative.” Apparently, apathy could be transferred to words as well. I glowered at Michael.
“Let’s try to break down the areas that could stand improvement.” At David’s words, I transferred my harsh look. He remained unaffected. “First off, you walked blindly into what you believed to be a hostile situation.”
I opened my mouth to protest.
“You didn’t use any of your senses, wolf or human,” Michael said.
“You should have been able to tell right away that it wasn’t blood and that I wasn’t the mutt,” David expanded.
“Zero common sense,” Michael added without a hint of mercy.
“Now wait a minute,” I cut in.
“About the only thing you did do right was not turn,” David finished.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Michael corrected, indicating my hands, the making of claws already turning them from soft to sinister.
I gave an exasperated cry and stood up. “I’m done with this. I’m going to change clothes. One of you jerks can explain to Charline why we’re late.”
Charline Montgomery did not abide rudeness and made no secret of it when we made our entrance. “Well, it’s about time y’all got here. What took you so long?” No one bothered to answer or make eye contact. “Whatever, have a seat, the table is set. I’m going to grab another bottle of wine.”
I looked up at the mention of ‘another’ realizing that she already held a sizable glass for herself. Silence dominated the table as we all took our seats and picked at our food. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Dinner is lovely, Charline. Thank you.”
“Of course, it is, though you’d never know it by all of your attitudes. What the hell happened this afternoon?”
I stifled a giggle. So much tact in so few words. My unusual outburst seemed to surprise the guys more than Charline’s bold demand for an explanation.
“We started Sara’s training,” Michael said with the same level of apathy as earlier.
“Get over it already,” I snapped. “If anyone has a right to be upset, it’s me. I’m the one that basically got ambushed in the one place I’m supposed to feel safe.”
Shock exploded across Charline’s face.
“But that’s what I asked for, it would be ridiculous of me to hold it against either one of you. I’m moving on and so should you.”
David dared to look hopeful and Charline was obviously exercising some serious willpower in holding back questions. Michael still hadn’t blinked.
“Seriously, enough. You made your point this afternoon. Lesson learned. Now please, can we move on?”
“Anyone need more wine?” Charline asked. David’s laughter burst into the room. “What?”
“Nothing, babe. Yes, I could do with some more wine. Would you like some help bringing in dessert?”
“What makes you think there’s dessert?” We all looked at Charline. “Oh, alright, there’s dessert. Get off your keister and give me a hand.” They both got up to retrieve the promised sweets, giving me and Michael a moment to ourselves.
I reached over to him, but stopped short of taking his hand and waited. Time stretched until he finally took the peace offering and looked up at me, sadness filling his eyes. “Michael, I don’t understand why you're struggling with this. You know it has to be done.”
“I hate resorting to such extreme measures. You should have all the time in the world to overcome your triggers.”
“But we don’t.” Doubt flitted across his face like a shadow, gone as quickly as it arrived. I smiled and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
“Finally! It’s about time you two made up.” Charline’s exclamation caught us both off guard and our hands blasted apart. “Honestly, there’s only so much I can take. You two are constantly swinging from one extreme to another, make up your mind already. It’s getting painful for the rest of us.”
David’s laughter floated behind Charline, but his expression seemed to mirror Michael’s concern.
Stepping into Michael’s place hours after I'd been led to believe it was a murder scene instantly put me on edge. I raised my nose to the air as Michael followed me inside. While I wasn’t expecting another teachable moment or an attack, I had no intention of being caught unawares again.
Michael stood by the glowing lamp, watching me as the soft light pushed against the night. “What do you smell?”
That simple question evoked memories of when all of this seemed so much less serious. A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as I recalled sitting across from this man at a deli being made to list all the scents of the day.
“What?” he asked.
My smile broadened. “It smells like home.” Surprise flickered in his eyes. I closed the door behind me and walked towards him then reached up to cradle his face. “It smells like you. It smells like us.”
The hint of a smile lay like a shadow on his face. His gaze shifted to the top of my head as he followed the path of his hands as they smoothed my hair back.
“What are you thinking?” he asked quietly.
“That we should go howl at the moon.”
His hands faltered in their ceaseless rhythm. A chuckle got stuck in his throat, but would not be denied.
I stepped back. “I’m perfectly serious. I haven’t gotten to do that yet.”
The dam broke and tension drained from his body as laughter rolled out of him. When he finally caught his breath, he pulled me back close. And there he was—my Michael—complete with that smile that never really seemed to fade.
“I hate to break it to you, but there’s a new moon tonight, nothing to howl at.” More laughter tugged at his mouth.
I stretched to my tiptoes and placed a tingling kiss on his lips. “Then what shall we howl to?”
In lieu of a response, he captured my mouth with a fierce kiss. “I’m sure we’ll think of something.” My toes curled in delig
ht at the smoky promise. I smiled harder. “You like that?” His voice dropped low enough to be a purr.
“Mhm,” I hummed and stole a quick kiss then took advantage of his ease and slipped his grip. “But you’ll have to catch me first.”
To my immense satisfaction, I didn’t react to the low growl that emanated from him beyond to feel heat rush through me. Michael’s eyes flashed yellow as he lunged over the couch. I gave a squeal of delight and circled back around, doing what I could to keep something between us. He immediately swiveled to follow. A lamp went flying and he almost caught me as I paused to make sure it didn’t break.
Fingers stirred the air at the nape of my neck. I yipped in alarm and a short bark of laughter filled the space I'd vacated. My feet slid across the kitchen floor finding no purchase. I spun around to face him almost falling over in the process.
He stood blocking the way, victory plain on his face. “Where to now?” he teased, his breath as ragged as mine.
I may be cornered, but I’m not done.
I charged. He let out a grunt when I barreled into him with enough force to land us both in a tangle of limbs and laughed as I peppered him with kisses. He smelled positively delicious and I wanted to taste every inch of him.
I slipped my nails between his buttons and proceeded to tear his shirt apart with a strength that would one day stop surprising me. He didn’t seem to mind as his fingers curled in my own top and jerked it over my head. I helped as I grew frustrated with the rest of my clothing and removed it as quickly as possible.
Hot hands roved over my sides and back, decadent in their lavish attention. I bit his lip then diverted my attention to explore across his chest and down his torso. The shine of fresh scar tissue caught my eye. I leaned down to kiss along each mark, tracing the pearly lines with my tongue as I worked my way lower until the rough fabric of his jeans scratched at my face, another sensation for my heightened awareness.
