Howling for My Baby

by Beverly Rae

  Exhaustion, mixed with alcohol and medication, finally won out and she stopped struggling to pant for air. In between breaths, she asked the questions reeling through her brain. “What…the hell…are you talking about? I said…what? Bite me?”

  Jason’s bewildered expression echoed the confusion ripping into her heart. “Yeah. You said you know we belong together.”

  Sure, she remembered him talking about belonging together. And, yes, she knew they were meant for each other. Still… “But you never said anything about biting me.” Although the fear was gone, the anger kept pumping through her veins—the only thing keeping her awake. “So why the hell did you bite me?”

  “Because you and I belong together. If you know what I am, then surely you know how this is done. You’re mine and I’m yours.” He lifted her, gently and lovingly placing her back on the bed. “I think you’ve had way too much to drink. You’re not making much sense.”

  She blinked, trying to clear her vision, but didn’t have much luck. His sharp features blurred even more. “What does biting have to do with us being together?”

  Jason’s mouth dropped open. “Are you shitting me? I did what all shifters do. I marked you.”

  Silently she gave thanks for the meds and booze. Otherwise the shock of what he’d said would’ve given her a heart attack. “You marked me? Like branding a cow?”

  He lifted a hand to tunnel through her hair. “Right. Well, no. Not like a cow. More like a symbol, a sign to show we’re mated. You know. Like wedding rings for a man and his wife. Well, more like he-wolf and she-wolf-in-the-making. Mates as in Mommy and Daddy to the kids we’ll have someday.”

  Syd managed to push up on her elbows and gape at him. “Mates? Like in married? Like in ’til death do us part?”

  “Damn, I didn’t realize. You’re really not getting this, are you?”

  “And you’re really a shifter?”

  Was he studying her? She couldn’t tell. Her vision seemed to be getting worse.

  “Like I said. You said you knew I’m a werewolf.”

  She did. She’d known from the first minute. But saying it out loud? Saying it out loud made it real, no longer just a fantasy. “Omigod. You’re really a shifter.” Her hand flew to the wound at her neck and missed. Damn pills. “And you bit me.”

  “Yes, I did.” He helped guide her hand to the right place.

  She pulled her hand away and gawked at the blood on her fingers. My werewolf lover bit me.

  “Syd? Are you okay?”

  His concern flowed over her like a cozy blanket, whisking away all emotions other than how wonderful his body fit next to hers. “I’m not…” She yawned and forced her eyes wide in a pitiful attempt to ward off sleep.

  He studied her for a moment and nodded. “Never mind. You rest while I hunt down some bandages for the wound.”

  “Wound? You mean where you bit me?” Of course where he bit me. Don’t be dumb. Why can’t I think straight? Why does my voice sound odd? She squinted, trying to make Jason’s face appear less fuzzy. “You’re all fussled.”

  His warm breath tickled her ears. “I think you mean fuzzy. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll take care of you. You just sleep it off and we’ll straighten it out in the morning.”

  The soothing sound of his voice gathered the swirling mist around her. Sighing, she tried to shake her head and failed. She closed her eyes and let sleep take her.

  ƒ

  “Hi, sleepyhead.”

  “Oh, crap. My head feels like a Gallagher watermelon.”

  “What kind of watermelon?”

  “It’s not a type of watermelon. I’m talking about the comic who bludgeons watermelons on stage.” Syd peeked one eye open, fearful of testing both her corneas to the sunlight pouring through her bedroom window. When the light didn’t disintegrate her like Dracula’s bride caught on a tropical beach at high noon, she timidly peeked through the other one.

  “How much did you drink before I got here last night?”

  She turned her head to the voice, winced, and swore to never ever move again. “Do you have to yell?” Amazingly, the muscled back of the man sitting on the edge of her bed called to her nether regions, making it almost possible for her to ignore the millions of tiny drummers practicing behind her eyes. Not to mention the hundreds of millions of evil minions stabbing into her shoulder. Almost. She reached to the spot where her shoulder hurt and her hand came to rest on a white bandage. “What the hell is this?”

  “I am speaking in a normal tone of voice. And don’t worry. You’re healing very quickly. I asked you how much you drank before I got here last night.” The man twisted around to gaze at her, the richness of his dark eyes matching the low timbre of his voice.

  Jason. She tried to sit up, but failed. A painful stab ripped through her head, down her neck, and into her shoulder, making her rethink the option of sitting up. “Ow. Oh, shit, please kill me now.”

  Great, Syd. Not exactly the wisest thing to say to a werewolf. Oh, holey moley, I made it with a werewolf. She tried to move again and winced when the movement sent flicks of a tiny whip across her forehead. Do not move. Do not speak. Do not even breathe.

  “Is the pain bad?” The concern in his voice didn’t match the twinkle in his eyes.

  No. But the idea of having had sex with a shifter is. My father’s going to kill me and then I’ll know real pain. Syd accepted the water bottle he held out for her, took a sip and fought to understand the sensations flowing through her.

  With her brain starting to function more clearly, she realized it was true. She’d made love to a shifter. Granted, a very sexy, very cool shifter, but a shifter all the same. She remembered dragging him into the bedroom, which meant she couldn’t blame him.

  He lifted a large hand to track through her hair. The simple movement made the muscles in his arm dance, and the strength in his forearms called her to a forbidden place of pleasure. Damn, he’s gorgeous. A wave of lust sped up her pulse, making her heart beat in double time. How can I think of sex in the shape I’m in? Yet when she saw the small patch of curly hair crawling from his navel past where his bare thigh hid his jewels, another thought chased the first one away. When a guy looks like him, how can I not think about sex?

  “I think the combination of the pain meds and wine did me in.” She managed a small smile before taking another cool sip.

  “Ah… I didn’t know about the pills.” He studied her. “No wonder you didn’t make sense last night.”

  Could shifters read minds? Or was she mixing them up with vampires again? She stopped, trying to recall another time when she’d confused the two supernatural beings. Obviously, all Skeller’s lessons about werewolves had gotten scrambled up with the monsters she’d seen in the movies. She took a quick glimpse. No monster had ever looked like him. Yet, to be safe, she lowered her eyes, hoping to shield her thoughts. She scooted to the other side of the bed and slipped out from underneath the covers. Naked.

  “Oh, shit. Why didn’t you tell me I didn’t have anything on?” She tugged the bedspread in front of her body and dropped the water bottle, uncaring of the puddle it made at her feet.

  “First of all, I assumed you knew. Second, I don’t see the problem.” Standing up, he spread his arms wide, showing off his nude form. His magnificent, rock-hard, nude form.

  Years of poor body image whacked her in the gut and she pulled the covers closer to hide her pudginess. Would he still want her after he’d seen her extra fat in glorious, show-it-like-it-is daylight?

  “After all, it’s not like we haven’t seen each other’s privates.” He waggled a finger and started moving toward her. “Trust me. I’ve seen and touched every inch of you. And tasted most of those inches, too.” He licked his lips. “Yum, yum, my sweet honey bun.”

  Warmth spread up her throat and into her face, heat circling inside her abdomen. “Yeah, well.” Great comeback, Syd. Yet she couldn’t think of anything better to say. Come on, Brain-o, rev into high gear.


  “Besides, we’re mated, so what’s the big deal?”

  Mated? A vague memory of the word floated in the back of her mind. A fresh throb struck her shoulder, reminding her of the bandage. She wheeled around to face the mirror over the dresser. Stretching forward, she examined the bandage. “Why do I have a bandage on my shoulder? Did I hurt myself?” She met her eyes in the mirror and dropped her gaze. You already know the answers. You just don’t want to admit it.

  He leaned to the side and crooked his head to get a better look at her backside. “Sorry. I didn’t catch your question. The wiggle in your wagon got my attention when you hopped out of bed. Mmm, mmm, good. My baby’s got back.”

  Catching him gawking at her, she repositioned the comforter around her J-Lo-and-mo’ butt. “Watch it.” Yet she couldn’t squash the sizzle of happiness jumping for joy inside her. He likes my big butt.

  “I’m trying, but I can’t if you’re going to hide your sexy ass.”

  She sneered at him, pretending she wasn’t delighted with the second compliment. “Again. Why the bandage?”

  “You mean you really don’t remember?”

  She turned to him, tired of trying to find the answers in her fog-clogged mind. “Will you please just tell me what happened last night?” She gaped at him, unable to understand why he appeared hurt. “What’s the matter?”

  “You don’t remember.” He shook his head, furrowing his brow in contemplation. “I’ve never had a woman tell me she didn’t remember having sex with me. Hell, last night you claimed you had multiple orgasms. Now you can’t remember? I don’t buy it.” He snorted at the idea.

  “I remember the sex part.” How could she ever forget? Last night was the most mind-blowing, outrageous, wonderful sex she’d ever had. But she didn’t think he needed her to boost his ego. “What I don’t remember is how I got hurt.” Suddenly, an image of long pointed teeth sinking into her shoulder flashed through her mind. “Oh, shit.”

  His grin lit up his features, wiping away the earlier scowl. “You do remember, don’t you?” Taking a few steps closer, he held out his arms. “Come here, my little hottie of a matie. Let me lick you and make it all better.”

  Syd backed away, the memory of last night crystallizing in her mind. “Omigod. You bit me.” Taking hold of the bandage, she ripped it off, careless of the sting from the tape tearing at her skin. “You did bite me.”

  Jason stopped, keeping a short distance from her. “Are we going through this again? Of course I bit you. How else was I supposed to make you my mate? Shit, you’re acting like you didn’t want this. You knew what I was and agreed to be my mate, remember?”

  “Oh, shit. I remember…” Anger and fear joined hands to squeeze her lungs. “But you didn’t give me a chance to understand, to really grasp the full meaning. Instead, you hauled off and bit me.”

  Now his face reflected her anger back at her. “Oh, for crap’s sake. You know we belong together, you said so. Why are you trying to deny it now? What the hell is wrong with you? Are you bipolar or psycho—or something?” When she didn’t answer, he huffed, started to move toward her, halted, and instead held up his palms to ward her off. “Hell, I don’t need any of this. Besides, I’m late for a meeting. Remember on your own time, then let me know when you do.” Growling, he spun on his heel, scooped up his clothes lying at the foot of the bed and stomped out of the bedroom.

  Syd heard the apartment door slam and tears flowed down her face. She’d mated a shifter. Hell, she was going to become a shifter. Staring at her reflection in the mirror again, she considered the new life ahead of her.

  Oh, shit. Syd, what have you gotten yourself into? She leaned toward the mirror to get a closer look. The wound didn’t look terribly bad. In fact, she’d swear it had already started to heal without stitches or medication—or anything. She bit her lip.

  When would she change? During the first full moon? At the mall with Charlie? Should she tell her friends? Her colleagues? What if she changed in the middle of teaching a lesson to her class? She choked out a sarcastic laugh and imagined trying to explain the transformation. Would the students believe it was some kind of weird biology lesson? Hey, class, want to see something cool? No, changing into a werewolf at school could simply not happen.

  She groaned and ran her fingers over her body. Morphing into a werewolf is going to play havoc with my diet. Will I be an overweight werewolf? Right, Syd. Unwanted pounds. That’s the worst that can happen—not. Turning away from the mirror, she flopped onto her bed, landing on her back.

  At first she tried to blame Jason, but then realized she couldn’t. Although the details were fuzzy, he hadn’t force this on her. She’d asked for this by dragging him to her bed and admitting she’d dreamed of him, wanted him, known him. She’d wanted him in her life and in her heart. Just like he’d said, she’d instinctively believed him then and she believed him now. They were destined to be mates. Then why was her stomach in knots?

  Because your family is a hunter family. Because they kill shifters, which makes your new lover their enemy. No, wait. It makes you and your new hubby their enemies!

  What was she going to do? And why, just why, wasn’t she already planning a way out of this mess? Again, the answer was clear. This was what she’d searched for all her life. She pushed herself out of bed to return to the mirror.

  Half expecting to see fangs and fur, she studied her image in the mirror. A soft smile played at the corners of her mouth while a mischievous look glinted in her eyes. She was happy. Once she got past the thoughts of her family and their reaction, she had to admit she was happy. She’d found her man. The one she’d spend the rest of her life with, raise a family with, and love with all her soul.

  Yet her brief moment of joy was over almost before it began. She imagined her mother’s kind face, twisted in hurt turmoil when she told her. Since her mom wasn’t a real hunter; only married to one, would she understand? Maybe, if she was lucky, she could win her mother over. After all, if anyone scanned the dictionary for the words unconditional love, Miriam Skeller’s photograph would be front and center.

  But her father would never understand. Syd tried to picture his reaction and winced. His harsh face scowled at her like some wicked king in an enchanted mirror. No way. He would never forgive her.

  Groaning, she twisted away from her image and stared at the community theater poster on the opposite wall. She’d enjoyed playing Juliet in their production of Romeo and Juliet last summer. But now she knew she hadn’t played the role to the fullest. How could she have? Until now, she hadn’t known what it truly felt like to be caught between two families and two worlds.

  She let her groan escalate into a growl to match the churning anxiety in her stomach. Damn, soon I’ll start baying at the moon.

  ƒ

  “Sydney, you gave me your word.”

  Syd surveyed the weapons spread out on the table before her. Why did I ever agree to join a hunt? She grimaced. Why? Because when I’d made the bargain, I’d been under the weather. Or rather, under the influence.

  But since meeting—hell, mating—Jason, going on a hunt had taken on a whole new meaning.

  “Skellers keep their promises.”

  Why did her dad have to have a thing about promises? She sighed and picked up the smallest gun in the group. Yet small for this group wasn’t very small. The rifle weighed a ton in her hands. “Crap, Skeller, you know I haven’t shot a rifle in ages. I’ll probably wind up shooting myself in the foot. Or worse, someone else in the head.” Yet she had to admit she felt almost comfortable holding the gun.

  He picked up a larger rifle, popped it open to check if it was loaded, and snapped it shut. “Naw, you won’t. Your training will come back to you natural-like. Of course, instead of shooting targets like when I taught you, you’ll be shooting something that moves. Still, you’ll do fine. After all, you’re a─”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m a Skeller.” Like being a Skeller had ever felt natural to her. Like shooting a shifter was
in her blood. Maybe it was, but now she had werewolf running through her veins, too, and she was supposed to kill one of her new kind?

  “Okay, I’ll come along for the ride—but just the ride. Remember, I’m not pulling the trigger. Even so, I think this is a big mistake.” Bigger than he’ll ever know.

  With a satisfied grunt, Skeller swung a rifle over his shoulder and headed for the door. “Good. Let’s get going. We’ve got some shifters to skin.”

  “You mean you’ve got some shifters to skin. I plan on hiding my eyes if anything gross goes down.”

  Syd grumbled a few expletives and followed her father to his truck. “Don’t you think you should’ve asked the other hunters if they minded me tagging along? You know. Considering my recent lack of practice with a loaded weapon?” She thought about trying to convince Skeller that exterminating lycanthropes was murder, but realized it wouldn’t work. Hunters prided themselves on killing while the shifter was in animal form, thus eliminating the problem of getting rid of human bodies. No way would her father ever think of Jason—or her!—or any shifter in human terms.

  “Already did. Don’t worry, they know you’re a rookie.” He turned the key in the ignition and dashed her first hope of wiggling out of the hunt.

  Traveling through the outskirts of town, she ran through several scenarios. Maybe she could throw her body from the truck, break a few bones and have to go into the hospital? She frowned, dismissing the idea of physically hurting herself. Or maybe she could roll down the window and shout for help, claiming her dad was taking her by force? Although the plan appealed to her, she couldn’t allow anything bad to happen to her father, including getting arrested.

  Maybe I’ll get lucky and the werewolves will be in human form. But the brief hope she felt died. Naw. The hunters would still want the shifters dead, no matter what form they took.

  “Look, Sydney, I know you’re nervous about impressing your old man, but don’t worry about it. I’ll be proud of you whether you get a clean kill or not. Besides, I don’t mind if a werewolf suffers a bit before he dies.”