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Seduced by the Highland Werewolf

Page 4

by Mandy M. Roth


  She’d wept uncontrollably in his arms before she’d seemed to run out of tears, falling silent, refusing to speak again. When he’d handed her off to his grandmother, the little girl had looked up at him with huge, haunted eyes, and in that moment, Duncan had felt his heart shattering for her.

  He’d wanted to right the wrongs in her young life then, but couldn’t. He couldn’t bring back her parents or take away her pain.

  Duncan wouldn’t permit that to happen to any other child. He’d listen to his dreams and the warning they were giving him. If it led to nothing, fine. Better it be nothing than to have to bury more innocents, to have more little ones’ lives fall to pieces.

  He held his breath as he waited for Liam to tell him what, if anything, he’d sensed.

  Liam shook his head. “I cannae make heads or tails of it, cousin. There is something here. It’s nae of the light, but it’s nae anything I’ve run into before. Somehow, it’s hiding itself from me. And there is something else off. With this place. This establishment. I cannae tell you what though. But it’s nae what it appears to be.”

  “So I’m nae touched in the head. There is something off?”

  “Aye,” returned Liam. “Yer touched in the head and something is off.”

  “Arsehole,” said Duncan with a snort. He leaned back as the waitress appeared with their drinks. He winked at her as he took his whiskey.

  She grinned as she hurried off, swaying her hips more. She had worked every night since Duncan had started coming in days ago. She never questioned him about why he was there and seemed surprised when he didn’t make lewd comments to her like some of the patrons tried to do. She’d also stopped trying to tempt him with her smiles, her breast, and her backside.

  Liam was fresh meat, however.

  “How is the food here?” asked Liam, taking a handful of peanuts. “I’m famished. Took me three hours to get here because of traffic.”

  “Feeling lucky? If so, go ahead and eat something from here,” said Duncan, staring around the bar, hoping for any sign of why he continued to feel a pull to the location.

  There was none.

  “You bring yer motorcycle?” asked Duncan.

  Liam shook his head. “The weather is shite and unpredictable in Ohio this time of year. I dinnae want to risk snow. Brought one of Kennard’s vehicles instead. Tell me again why I do nae move to Florida?”

  “Because you’d bitch it was too hot.”

  “Aye,” said Liam with a nod.

  “How is married life treating my brother?”

  Duncan had been surprised to hear Kennard had mated. He’d never seemed to be the type to tether himself to one woman for all eternity. But, if their grandmother was to be believed, one didn’t get to pick who their mate was, and they didn’t get to decide when they were ready to settle down.

  Fate handled all that.

  He had to admit the idea had merit. Though he’d have to learn to let someone else in, and that was easier said than done.

  “He and Maggie are happy,” said Liam, a sadness touching his voice. “Though she is annoyed with him and his hovering with the babe on the horizon. I wouldnae be shocked if she ended up cursing him. She does nae understand how much this means to him. How much she means to him. She’s young. ’Tis to be expected.”

  Duncan understood. They’d all been alive a long time, and finding a perfect match—a mate—was something that only a few of their kind managed to do. Kennard had been lucky, as had a few of their other cousins. There didn’t seem to be much hope for the rest of the O’Caha men.

  “You talk to Coyle, Gordon, or Korey?” asked Duncan.

  “They’re all busy with their families. Have you been by to see them since last year’s family reunion?” asked Liam. “Darcy is about to graduate from university.”

  Duncan gasped. Korey’s daughter was already old enough to be graduating from university? It seemed as if it were only yesterday that she was running around the family reunion, picking flowers and trying to braid the men’s hair. “Och, no. She cannae be that old already.”

  “Aye, we’re getting old, cousin,” said Liam with a wink. “Coyle’s boys are young men now. CJ’s learned the family business and has been assigned a territory by Grandmother. Evan is nae far behind him. And the youngest boy is a year behind Darcy at university. Face it, cousin. We are ancient.”

  They were.

  The waitress reappeared. “You two going to need anything else? My shift is about over. I can close you out now or Catrina can once she gets here.”

  “This would be the same lass who told you of certain people nae being able to get drunk?” asked Duncan. “And nae to eat the bar peanuts?”

  She nodded. “One and the same. The girl is always reading this or that. Walking book of strange facts. I have to admit, I was sad to see her back in the area. When I heard she’d gone off to college, I’d hoped it meant she’d stay far from here. Her mother wouldn’t have wanted this for her.”

  The woman’s brow furrowed, and pain radiated from her.

  “This is no place for her, but she doesn’t listen to me,” said the waitress.

  “I dinnae know this bar had another woman working at it,” said Duncan. It was true. He’d been in nightly for nearly a week. The current waitress and the bartender were the only two employees he’d seen each night.

  “Catrina only works weekends. And she’s running behind tonight,” she said, glancing at her watch. “That’s odd. She isn’t one to be late ever. She’s normally early.”

  Liam locked gazes with Duncan. No words needed to be spoken. Both the men understood that if they were sensing something dark and evil in the area, it was very dangerous for humans to be near. A human female was like setting an apple in front of Eve to the bad guys. They never could resist easy prey.

  Chapter Six

  Catrina entered through the back door of the bar and pulled her apron from her bag. The place was busier than usual. From the looks of the front of the bar, more college guys had discovered the local watering hole.

  Great.

  As if the regular clientele wasn’t already enough to deal with. Adding fraternity boys would only make the night that much longer. The last group who had camped out at the bar had spent the evening ordering cheap beer that they couldn’t hold their liquor with. She’d spent equally as long trying to keep them from hitting on her.

  She grunted. It looked like she was in for another long night.

  A cacophony of voices carried over the distance of the bar, slamming into her. Catrina had to pause, focus, and center herself. Since she was more than human, it came with perks and drawbacks. One was extraordinary senses that were much more acute than a human’s. For as good as that was, it also had its downside. That came mainly in the form of having to work at filtering out all the superfluous sound. If she didn’t, she’d become easily overwhelmed.

  It had happened to her before, and it was never fun. It often overloaded her system, making her feel sick to her stomach, hot, and dizzy.

  Ralph, her boss, the bar’s owner and bartender—and slayer trainer—was behind the bar, manning his station. His gaze met hers and he tipped his head slightly, a questioning look on his face.

  “You okay?” he asked at a normal level, meaning that people sitting at the bar in front of him probably wouldn’t have heard it over the rest of the noise in the establishment, but she did.

  She gave a small nod, focusing enough to be able to weed through the sounds, picking and choosing the ones she wanted to hear.

  Ralph winked. That was about as emotional as the older gentleman got. At least in the two months she’d been working at the bar. She could remember him from when she was little, and he’d not changed one bit.

  He’d been close to her parents and would often come to their home for dinner. He’d also spent a good deal of time at the library with her father. Catrina knew the man was more than human, but she didn’t know how much more. All she knew for certain was that Ralph was on her
side, but he wouldn’t hesitate to try to stop her if he found out she was on the hunt for the demon who’d killed her parents.

  He’d want her safe. Already he’d expressed more than once his displeasure over her returning to the area. He, like Diane, wanted her to stay far away.

  But she couldn’t do that.

  The demon needed to be stopped, and she knew deep down that she had to have a hand in making that happen or die trying.

  Whatever it took to kill the thing.

  Catrina spotted Diane near a table with two men. Several other patrons partially eclipsed the guys at the table, but from what Catrina could see, the men were vastly different from the others in the bar.

  They screamed alpha males.

  Testosterone seemed to leak from their area.

  A far cry from the college boys near the entrance.

  Grinning, Catrina shook her head, not surprised in the least to see Diane near the table of hotties. The woman’s libido was on overdrive. She’d had a string of live-in boyfriends. All of whom turned out to be losers. Each one seemed to try to outdo the last, jockeying for the exalted position of supreme super-loser.

  A few could have been the poster child for the cause.

  Yet Diane continued to gravitate toward that type of guy. She’d never married, which was for the best, considering her awful taste in men.

  She seemed to lean toward the unemployed, alcoholic dirtbags who thought of themselves as extra manly if they ran around in T-shirts with the sleeves ripped off, backwards baseball caps with various tractor company logos on them, stained jeans, and a cheap beer in their hand. Most could also be found spitting endlessly, their lips packed with tobacco.

  The saddest part of it all was that Diane firmly believed those types of guys were as good as she could get. Men who demanded she bust her butt waiting tables and serving drinks to jerks in order to support them and their cheap-beer habits.

  Before her mission was done, Catrina was hoping to be able to talk Diane into wanting more from life. Of demanding that she be treated with far more respect than afforded her by her current choice in men.

  Ironically, hunting and killing the demon seemed downright doable in comparison to getting Diane to change her dating habits.

  Some of the crowd at the pool table dispersed, gifting Catrina a better view of her coworker. When Diane spotted her, she beamed and began to wave wildly.

  “Catrina!” she yelled, despite knowing Catrina’s secrets, that she was more than she appeared to be and could hear her with ease. The woman’s shout caused most of the patrons to stop what they were in the middle of and look back at Catrina.

  She didn’t want the attention, so she lowered her head, letting her long dark hair fall forward, partially concealing her face from the view of others. She was about to go to Diane when she got a decent view of the two men at the table her friend was at. One was still somewhat eclipsed, but she got the gist—and the gist was darn fine.

  Darn fine indeed.

  They were very tall, easily six and a half feet, and built, but not overly so. Each had dark hair that hung past their shoulders. Tiny braids with small silver beads were sprinkled through their wavy manes. It didn’t look odd. It looked right. Not too many men could pull that off. The two of them managed just fine.

  Each had facial hair in the form of close-cut beards. Both looked as if they were in a biker gang. As removed as she tried to remain at the sight of them, even she had to admit the idea of them tossing a leg over a motorcycle was hot.

  Very hot.

  One of the men, the one whose profile she could see, was in a kilt, of all things. He had his legs up on a chair near him, showing off how muscular his legs were. A light dusting of dark hair covered them. She hid a laugh at the sight of black biker boots paired with the kilt. A black leather jacket was draped over the back of the man’s chair.

  He leaned forward, tossing a dart at a board that was a good ways from the table. He scored a perfect shot.

  She tensed. That wasn’t something easily done.

  He repeated the act; this time he didn’t even bother looking in the direction of the dartboard. Again, he got a bullseye.

  As the kilted one leaned more, the other man at the table came into clear view. His squared jawline and chiseled features were enough to make any woman’s mouth water. She’d thought the guy in the kilt was good-looking. This one was downright delicious. His royal-blue gaze slid to her.

  For a split second, Catrina felt as if she were standing at the end of a long tunnel, being yanked toward the man. Like someone had secured a rope firmly around her waist and was reeling her in. But at the end wasn’t a boat with a fisherman. It was a super-hot dude with eyes so blue they had to be contacts.

  With a sharp gasp, she looked down to be sure she wasn’t actually moving. She wasn’t. Glancing up, their gazes connected once more, and yet again, she felt as if she were on a conveyer belt, going toward him at an accelerated rate.

  Her arms went out fast to steady herself, when in actuality, she’d still not moved.

  The man blinked and shook his head slightly as if coming out of his own version of a daze. Just like that, the feeling of being yanked in his direction ended.

  She couldn’t help but glance around to see if anyone had noticed the strange ordeal and her mini freak-out over it. Everyone was in their own self-absorbed worlds. No one paid any mind to her.

  Good.

  Kind of.

  If they’d have been looking at her, she’d at least know she wasn’t crazy. That something weird had just occurred. As it stood, she had to wonder if lack of sleep in her quest to find out all she could about the harvester demon was causing her to hallucinate.

  The guy in the kilt turned partially in his chair. A sly grin spread over his face as he looked directly at Catrina. “Duncan, she’s a bonnie one.”

  Sweet Jesus.

  If they both had accents, she was doomed for sure.

  Focus on something else, quick.

  The command to herself didn’t work. All she did was hang on their next words.

  “Aye, Liam, she is,” said the other man, a Scottish lilt evident, his gaze never leaving her.

  Crap. I’m so screwed.

  The man was a distraction she didn’t want or need. She was a woman on a mission, and she’d spent far too long preparing for everything to let it get blown by her hormones. Unfortunately, her girlie bits didn’t seem to get the memo. They were all for the blue-eyed hunk.

  The one named Duncan continued to watch her, his expression filled with lust. She had to wonder if she was reflecting back as much desire despite wanting to appear indifferent to the man. Asking her to seem aloof and unaware of just how sexy he was, was sort of like asking her to eat just one chip from the bag.

  Not gonna happen.

  Yep.

  The blue-eyed hunk was certainly like a bag of chips.

  She wouldn’t mind snacking on him in the least. But at the end of it all, she’d have a lot of guilt.

  The thought sobered her, since she wasn’t one to normally run around thinking of nibbling on anyone.

  Catrina’s cheeks heated, and she realized she was blushing. She pushed her hair behind her ears and averted her gaze.

  “Catrina, come on over here and meet my new friends,” said Diane, at a volume level that left no room to wonder if she’d been heard.

  People down the street probably heard, which was saying something, considering how off the beaten path the bar was. Once, long before Catrina was born, the highway the bar sat on was busy. The construction of an overpass, connecting to the turnpike, diverted traffic from the highway, taking with it much of the town’s revenue. Many businesses had been a casualty of the development.

  Catrina wasn’t so sure the bar could be added to the list of businesses that’d suffered. It always seemed to have a steady number of customers, despite being out in the middle of nowhere, and it had been old and dilapidated since she could remember. From a few of the
photos she’d seen of it from before she’d been born, it hadn’t changed at all.

  Literally, not one single bit. That in itself was weird. Add in Ralph being the owner and things only went from weird to off-the-wall wacky.

  The story of her life.

  Chapter Seven

  “Catrina!” repeated Diane, even louder than before.

  Catrina made her way in that direction. She had to push through a group of men at the pool table to do so. Once she was through them all, she found Diane there, grabbing her and hugging her tight, to the point breathing was an issue.

  “D-Diane,” managed Catrina as she wiggled free. That in itself was a chore because Diana was a hugger and liked to hold people for an uncomfortably long amount of time.

  “I was worried about you,” said Diane.

  Catrina patted Diane’s arm. “I’m fine. Why on earth were you worried about me?”

  Diane eased back a bit and forced a smile to her face. “You’re half an hour late.”

  “I am?” asked Catrina, stunned. She lifted her phone and checked the time. “No. I’m early. I’m not on until nine.”

  Diane cursed softly. “Ralph has you down for eight on the schedule board. He must have gotten the times mixed up again. I swear he should be banned from the office and the computer. He’s always bumping wrong keys and changing things without knowing what he did. He likes to say it’s because in his day, computers weren’t a thing. Between you and me, it’s because he doesn’t listen when I tell him how to work it. You’re never late. I thought something happened to you.”

  Catrina touched Diane’s cheek lightly, understanding where the concern originated from. Diane knew what really lived in the world. While human, the woman hadn’t been spared the harsh reality that monsters and things that went bump in the night were very real.

  They were no stranger to violence. To horrific events that were so unimaginable they sounded like they’d been plucked from the plot of a horror movie.

  “I promise I’m fine,” said Catrina, making sure she used a soothing tone. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

 

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