by Kensie King
I frowned. “What?”
He nodded. “Just like that. You can come back the next day, no harm no foul. You just have to be out of here by Sunday night.”
“What happens Sunday night?”
“The full moon.”
He sighed when he saw I had more questions. But what did he expect from a researcher who wanted information for both his writing and his personal life? All of this had become far more personal than I expected, so I wanted good reasons why I was being chased out of town.
Dylan gestured to the kitchen. “You want to sit?”
I relaxed just slightly. He was inviting me to stay and talk instead of forcing me. All right. I could play it his way for the moment.
“Sure,” I said.
I followed him to the back of the house, where there was a small cozy kitchen I only saw in the dark earlier. When he went straight for the fridge and pulled out a beer, I almost had to laugh.
“Want one?” he asked.
From threats to offerings. Interesting. I took it in stride and nodded, “Sure.”
He popped the top on mine and passed it over before grabbing one for himself. We sat together at the kitchen table; a sturdy piece of furniture that looked refinished—no doubt by Dylan himself.
He seemed very good with his hands. I took a long swallow of beer, trying not to look at those strong hands and remember the small thrill I’d felt when they’d been on me.
Ridiculous, considering the reason, but it was still there, nevertheless. I was certain he wouldn’t have actually hurt me.
Dylan sat back in his chair. “Your mom left last week—took a short vacation. Figured she’d go see Mt. Rushmore while she was at it.”
Part of me bristled at the fact that he knew way more about my mom than I did. “You guys must be close if you know when and where she’s going.”
“We’re friends,” he said simply. “Have been since I moved in here.”
“But she didn’t just leave to see one of our most famous national monuments. She left because of the full moon.”
He nodded, then took a swallow of beer before holding it loosely on the table. “That’s right.”
“And?”
His gray eyes narrowed, taking on something like a challenge. Now, there was the Dylan I’d grown accustomed to. But I couldn’t seem to drum up any more irritation for him. I had no clue why he’d done what he did, but he seemed to think it was for my safety. And the safety of the rest of the town.
“I get it,” he said. “It’s bullshit you show up here and then someone tells you to leave. But it’s for the best. Also for the best if that’s all you know for now.”
I swallowed another mouthful of beer, considering this. He had to realize that not telling me more was just making me want to know more.
After a moment, he said, “I researched you.”
Leaning back in my chair, I set one ankle on the opposite knee, relaxing some. “That so?” He nodded. “You’re thorough when you decide to chase someone out of town.”
To my surprise, he laughed, and dammit if that didn’t make me like him a little more. He scooped a hand through his unruly dark blond hair. “It was only because I wanted to figure out the best way to get you to leave. I had a feeling the more I tell you, the more you’re going to want to know. Especially considering your line of work.”
“So that plays into it, then? My job. What I research.”
“Thought you’d already figured that part out,” he said, arching one eyebrow, “considering what you were looking at when you tried to set the library on fire.”
My jaw shifted. He hadn’t meant it as a dig, just trying to prove a point, but it still irked me. “Didn’t do it on purpose,” I said roughly. “Kind of works like that when I get threatened.”
He cleared his throat and dropped his chin slightly. “All right. I can admit that might not have been the best way to handle the situation. I guess…” He met my eyes again, something like amusement flickering in them. “I thought I could bully you to get you out of here. But then you showed up in my house.”
“You started it,” I said.
He chugged the last of his beer and nodded. “True.” Then he stood. “I’ll get your book.”
I watched him walk from the room, not sure if I was more surprised he didn’t seem to have any questions about the fire in the library or that he was just giving the book back—no questions asked.
Clearly, all this supernatural stuff wasn’t uncommon around here—or at least not in Dylan’s life. But, that made questions sprout up all over the place. What did he know that I needed to know? Or wanted to know? What was really going on around here?
At the same time, I was smart enough to know if a man was being reasonable with you, it made sense to listen.
Besides, he said I could come back to Knob Creek. Head out one day, come back the next. Could be worse. By then, I’d hopefully have a better angle for my story and a page full of questions for Dylan—if he’d answer them.
Dylan walked back into the room and set the book on the table. I pulled it closer to open the front cover. My mother’s name was on the inside page, along her mother’s name before her, and so on. I shut it again and traced my fingers over the raised pentagram on the front.
“She never told me about any of this,” I said, keeping my eyes on the book.
“Nothing? Not your history or who you are?”
I shook my head. She hadn’t told me shit, and I resented her for that. If I had known, maybe I could control the flames. If I had known, maybe something wouldn’t have happened to my dad. If I had known, I wouldn’t have felt so alone.
After another breath, I stood and nodded at him. “I’m going to head back to the motel. Thanks for the drink.”
He followed me to the front door and even unlocked it. He held it open for me.
“I’ll be out of here on Sunday morning,” I told him, pausing on the threshold of the door. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You give me answers when I get back. Tell me everything.”
He shrugged. “Your mom will probably be back by then. She can tell you everything you need to know.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that but I said, “Well, if she is, then fine. But if not, I want answers. Agreed?”
He considered this, then held out his hand. “You’ve got a deal.”
I took his hand, and my eyes darted to his when I felt a low hum pass between us. Soft and warm. “What the hell is that?”
“It’s what happens sometimes with people like you and people like me. And it was a deal, something serious. A bond.”
“People like you?” I asked, my fingers still wrapped around his.
He pulled back and tucked his hands in his pockets. “You agreed—answers when you come back. Not before.”
“But—”
“You seem like someone who keeps their word. So am I. We agreed. Let’s leave it at that for now.”
I held his eyes for a long moment, trying to decide if I fully believed him. But he only held my gaze, a silent acceptance that we were both going to keep our promise.
I could still feel the buzzing in my hand, and the warm tingles where Dylan’s fingers were.
“All right.” I stepped onto the porch. “I’ll keep my word.”
He moved to the stairs. “I’ll meet you at the motel at check-out time. I can escort you or follow you to the town border.”
“Didn’t I just say I’d keep my word?” I asked, irritation creeping up on me again.
“That’s not what I’m worried about.” He shoved his hands deeper in his pockets, and even though I could see strong muscles through his shirt and I knew what kind of strength he had, he almost looked vulnerable. “Just be careful. You don’t know who you can trust.”
That was definitely something like what the whispers in the hotel had been trying to tell me. But I’d assumed they were about Dylan. Now I wasn’t so sure.
�
�Got it,” I said.
He pulled a business card from his wallet and passed it over. “Here’s my number. Just in case.”
His fingers brushed mine and our eyes connected for another long moment. Something passed between us—something more than understanding, though that in and of itself meant something. It had been a long time since someone understood me and accepted me for who I was.
I turned for the stairs and then jogged down the steps before glancing back. Dylan still stood there, his eyes on me as I left.
Dylan knew a lot, and he’d agreed to give me answers. That was the best I could hope for right now.
I walked around the hedge and hopped into my car that was still parked alongside my mom’s house. Part of me wanted to head inside again, snoop around, maybe get answers about the kind of woman she’d become. But then bitterness crept up and I decided against it.
It had already been a long day and I didn’t need any more on my plate.
So I headed back to town, ready for the shower I told Gage I’d take. It felt like years ago that I’d said that.
But I had a feeling that tomorrow was going to be just as long.
CHAPTER 7
I fell asleep to a swirl of thoughts and the reminder of dark gray eyes that held so much. Not my fault if I had the memory of Dylan’s body or the strength in his arms when he pinned me to the wall in my mind.
And then I dreamed about him.
We were at the Knob Creek Hotel, walking the halls with his hand wrapped tightly around mine. My skin tingled and hummed wherever we touched, and my body was responding to his in a way I couldn’t control.
The hallways were empty, just long, dark corridors that reminded me of a horror movie. Except I didn’t feel scared. I felt turned on.
When we reached the same spot where I’d gotten trapped behind the panel, Dylan turned to me with heat in his eyes.
“I have the answers,” he said, voice rough.
And then his mouth was on mine. Just as rough as his voice as he plunged his tongue between my lips. He pushed me against the wall and then held me there with his body. My fingers dug into his hips, holding him close so I could feel his erection against mine.
Knowing how badly he wanted me made me bold. Made me long to have him inside of me.
“I want you,” he breathed.
Something flickered in me. Something had changed. And when I pulled back slightly, it wasn’t Dylan’s eyes I was staring into.
It was Gage’s.
“You can trust me,” he said, body still plastered against mine.
He wasn’t quite as tall as Dylan, but he was stronger. Faster. And my pulse spiked at the pure lust in his gaze and voice.
His hands slid down to my wrists and then cuffed them. He pinned them to the wall above my head with frightening strength. My dick jerked at the feel of it—rough, but not rough enough to hurt me. In fact, it only turned me on more.
Gage gripped my chin with his free hand and held me in place. His eyes locked on mine. “Not everything is what it seems.”
His words made sense, though I wasn’t sure why. Just that, in that moment, I trusted him.
And I wanted him.
He held me still so he could slide his tongue across the seam of my lips. I parted for him, welcoming him. His tongue tangled with mine while his body held mine in place.
I couldn’t move, could barely even breathe. But even so, my body was more alive than it had ever been. My cock throbbed to the beat of my heart, straining against my jeans and begging to be set free.
“Gage,” I groaned, my voice hoarse.
“This is right. You and me. Right here,” he said, dark eyes latching onto mine again.
I could only nod because it felt more than right. It felt like it was meant to be.
He released my wrists only to turn me around and place his hands over mine, holding me to the wall. Then his strong body bowed around mine, his erection pressing against my ass crack through too many layers of material.
I wanted him so badly, I almost whimpered. Almost begged.
He slid one hand down my spine and then cupped my ass cheek. I shuddered at the feel, wishing there wasn’t anything between us. I needed to feel him inside of me. And I wanted to come apart in his hands.
His breath touched my neck, making me shiver, as he reached around and undid the button on my jeans. The zipper sounded like a rush of wind in the quiet hallway of the hotel.
Then his hand was sliding inside the material, brushing the head of my cock and nearly making my knees buckle. He gripped me around the waist with his other hand, pulling me back against him, letting me feel how hard he was.
When he maneuvered me so I was completely free from the jeans, his entire hand wrapped around the heat of my cock and I gasped. The same hum was there where our bodies touched, but this was more than a hum—it was electric. It was hot against my skin, my dick vibrating and coming so close to exploding, I bit my lip.
“You can come whenever you want,” he whispered in my ear.
I was so close. So close…
And then I woke up. More like jerked awake by something. Surprise? My own subconscious?
I eased onto my elbows as light filtered through the flimsy curtains. The sheets were askew, and I was hard as a rock through my gray sweats. My cock ached, throbbing with the release I hadn’t quite reached.
“Holy shit,” I murmured.
I had vivid dreams. But this one… It had seemed more real than ever. First Dylan and then Gage. What did that mean?
Especially when, in the past, some of my dreams had been prophetic.
I shifted in bed, lying back down to let my heartbeat quiet. Half-tempted to reached down under the covers and finish myself off.
Wouldn’t be hard to do with how ready I was—or with the thought of either Gage or Dylan in my head.
But I was still too perplexed. Was it just because I hadn’t been with a man in so long? Because both Gage and Dylan were sexy as hell?
Or did it mean something more?
After another few minutes of deep breaths, I was calm enough to stand. Instead of dressing, I decided to take another shower. I was still semi-hard.
At least this would release some stress before I started the day.
Because now, I had more questions than ever.
#
It wasn’t hard to find a diner on Main Street—but I was impressed with how cozy and crowded it was. It made me feel more like I was at home rather than in a strange town.
After a few minutes, I was seated at a small booth near the back while the weekend tourists and locals talked noisily all around me.
I’d considered leaving early this morning but then changed my mind. I’d come here for research and still had a little time before I had to be gone. Besides that, after my experience in the hotel, what had gone down at Dylan’s house, and the sexy dream that wouldn’t seem to leave my thoughts, I knew there was something more here that I needed to find.
Instead of bringing the Book of Shadows with me and really giving the locals something to talk about, I took out a simple notebook so I could jot ideas for an article. Or maybe a series of articles—probably starting with the Knob Creek Hotel.
It was definitely haunted. No doubt about it. I just had to see if there was a broader angle I could come at it with besides I swear I heard something in the walls. I needed more history, more sightings other than my own, and some stories to back them up.
After all, if I was the only one who had an experience, then it might have more to do with an ancestral link than a general haunting.
I jerked in my seat when someone slid into the booth across from me.
Then I frowned.
It was the snooty librarian.
She still wore her cat-eyeglasses that I thought were attractive before but now I found pretentious.
“Morning, Lincoln,” she said.
I slid my notebook aside and folded my arms. “I didn’t ask for a table for two.”
She shrugged. “How about we just shoot it straight? I was rude. You tried to set my library on fire. Sounds like we’re even—and that’s being generous. Work for you?”
I didn’t make any gesture of acknowledgment, so she held out her hand.
“My name is Grace.”
Maybe it was my good manners or the fact that I was curious, but I extended my own hand to shake hers. The low buzz of energy transferred between us—just like it had with Dylan. “You’re one of them.”
“You mean one of us,” she answered easily when I released her.
“I’m going to go with one of you. You know, the ones who are hell-bent on getting me to leave Knob Creek.”
“Fair enough.” She grinned when the waitress came over and waited for her to fill a mug of coffee.
“What are you?” I asked when we were alone again.
“Rude,” she commented.
“We aren’t exactly friends.”
This time, she laughed. “True enough. Though you keep up that attitude and you’re bound to grow on me. Kind of reminds me of…me.”
I wasn’t amused. I needed a little more than attitude to appreciate someone as a friend. Even Dylan wasn’t to that status yet and I was having hot, sexy dreams about him.
But maybe I didn’t open up to people as easily as she did.
She placed her palms flat on the table and leaned in. Then, as though she were commenting on the weather, she said, “I’m a werewolf.”
I folded my arms again. “Hilarious.”
“If I was making a joke,” she said calmly, “you’d know it.” Then she took off her glasses and rubbed them calmly on the hem of her shirt before she met my eyes with familiar ones. Ones I knew I’d seen before other than in the library. “I believe we met the first night you were here. In your mother’s house.”
It was like being slapped in the face. Probably more shocking than being trapped in the hotel wall with an actual ghost.
“Could have been a coincidence,” I said, though I didn’t even believe me.
“Why would I lie?”
I had no clue. And I had to admit, those eyes were like the wolf’s eyes. So was the color of her hair. And really, if she was going to lie about something, wouldn’t she pick something more believable? Witch—like me? Or psychic? Fuck, I’d even have an easier time believing that she was a ghost herself.
