by A. P. Jensen
She dressed carefully in what she preferred- straitlaced business attire. She pulled on gray slacks, a sleeveless silk top and a blazer. She completed the look with black stilettos that fit. Looking at herself in the mirror, no one would think she could transform into a beast. Only the feathers clustered around her feet testified to her accident last night. She exited her bedroom and firmly closed the door to block out the evidence. She would deal with that later. Her heels clicked on the hardwood and she paused outside of her mom’s bedroom. She looked inside, took one step forward and stopped. What little self control she had began to quake, so she strode to the kitchen to make coffee and a plan to find her mom. She stopped dead when she saw Mac sitting on a stool in the kitchen. His eyes flicked over her before he nodded to a styrofoam cup of coffee waiting on the counter for her.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded and sniffed the coffee suspiciously.
“We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t. I want my key back.”
“No.”
Jillian’s hand clenched into a fist. She wasn’t used to being denied or having her orders ignored. She took a deep breath because her wolf paced restlessly, making her feel jittery and on edge. “What do you want?”
“I’m here for you.”
Jillian stared. “Excuse me?”
“You’re not stable.”
She tilted her chin up defiantly, even as her fingernails elongated again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The look Mac fixed on her made her want to shift uncomfortably, but she refused to let him intimidate her. Without warning, Mac surged to his feet and strode down the hallway. She blew out a breath and relaxed until she realized where he was headed. She rushed after him and managed to reach her bedroom before him. She skidded to a halt in front of her door and tried to look casual as she barred his way. She buried her claws in her hair so he wouldn’t see and winced when she nicked her scalp.
“You can’t go in my bedroom. Its private,” she snapped.
He raised a brow. “That so?”
“Yes, that’s so! I don’t know you and if you don’t get out, I’m going to call the cops.” When his lips twitched, her temper skyrocketed. “You think I’m kidding?”
He shook his head. “No. You’re getting better.”
She blinked. “Better than what?”
His face shadowed. “Before.”
“Look, Jack-”
“Mac.”
“Yeah, whatever,” she said, knowing full well what his name was. “You say we’ve been living together, but I don’t see any of your stuff here.”
“You’ve been living with me.”
She blinked. For some reason, that was even more shocking. Before she could question him further, he swung her out of the way and pushed the door open. He didn’t seem surprised by the destruction. Jillian hung her head and took deep breaths to stop the need to scream at him for invading her privacy and exposing her deep, dark secret. She never shifted completely before. Now, she struggled to cage her wolf who obviously had a field day last night.
Jillian’s mom told her what she was as soon as she was old enough to understand. Her mom encouraged her to leave the city and find a pack and learn from other wolf shifters, but Jillian refused. She didn’t want a part of that life, that society. She didn’t want to be a wolf, therefore, she wasn’t. When Jillian was a teen, she grew claws for the first time. She locked herself in the bathroom until they morphed back into hands. She noticed wolf traits surfaced when Jillian was overcome by strong emotion. Jillian conditioned herself not to feel to keep the wolf buried. She never lost control until last night and the worst part was, she didn’t remember going postal. Fear, pain, confusion and a deep sense of loss she wasn’t prepared to acknowledge had its talons in her heart.
Jillian waited for Mac to say something, but all he did was look at her. She crossed her arms across her chest and tapped one shoe, trying to cool her temper.
“I want my key back and I want you out.”
“This isn’t going away, Jillian. Something’s wrong. You’ve been gone a week and you turn up with no memory of the past four weeks? I’m not leaving you here.”
“Look, I don’t remember you. I’m not going with you. Thanks for being concerned, but I can handle myself,” she said dismissively.
“You don’t have control over yourself.”
She flushed. “Maybe it’s because you told me my mom’s dead! Maybe that’s why I went crazy!”
“She isn’t coming back.”
Jillian lashed out with her claws and he caught her wrist before it could make contact with his face. He didn’t take his eyes from hers.
“I can’t leave you here. It’s not safe.”
“I can take care of myself!”
“I’m not worried about you, I’m worried for everyone else.” When she stared at him, he continued, “Anything can trigger you to shift. I’ve seen you do it countless times.”
She didn’t want to believe him. That was impossible, right? She had no memory of him… No memory of anything, actually. She lost control last night, but she was entitled with all this weird crap going on. Normally, she was rational, logical and organized, so why did she feel as if the “Alice” dress from yesterday was appropriate since she was tumbling down a rabbit hole?
Mac gestured into the demolished bedroom. “You’re not in control. It’s only going to get worse. Wolves don’t live in cities.”
“I’m not a wolf.”
Mac tightened his grip on her clawed hands. She tried to curl the claws into her palm, but he kept her fingers splayed.
“You’re going to slice up your hand,” he said calmly. “It’s only a matter of time before you shift again. I can’t let that happen. We need to get out of the city. If a human saw you, I’d have to make sure they forget and we don’t have time for that.”
“I don’t know you!” Jillian protested, staring at her deformed hands.
“Trust me.”
“I can’t.”
He let out an impatient growl. “You can’t just let me help, can you?”
“I can figure this out-”
“There’s nothing to figure out, Jillian. Your mom’s not coming back and I can help you,” he said harshly and released her hand.
She cradled her claws and willed them to turn back into human hands, but they didn’t. She swallowed hard and looked at Mac.
“How do I change it back?”
He crossed his arms. “Come with me.”
She glared at him. “I need to find my mom.”
“If you come with me, I’ll tell you everything I know.”
She clenched her teeth. She had no choice. She couldn’t stay in this apartment, twiddling her claws while she waited for her mom to show up and… She could see it in his eyes. He knew more than he was telling her and she needed all the information she could get. If wolves killed her mom… Just the thought made her wolf rage and she swayed. When Mac reached out for her, she lashed out instinctively. Mac leapt back and glared at her.
“Jillian.”
It was a reprimand and she flushed. Where was her control? She knew she couldn’t stay in her apartment and rip it to shreds. What if she got out and attacked someone?
“Let me get a bag,” she said hoarsely.
“You have clothes there.”
“There, where?”
Mac wrapped his arms around her and brought her up against him, which was a shock to her senses. She didn’t let anyone touch her and this guy was wrapped around her like a Snuggie.
“There’s no way we’re together,” she said in a muffled voice because she was talking into a shirt that smelled of hot, intense male. Her wolf stopped snarling, comforted by his scent and touch. “I don’t like being touched.”
“You like when I touch you,” he countered arrogantly.
His thumb tipped her head back so their eyes locked. His personality was strong. She felt it pushing at her, demanding her tr
ust and surrender. Normally, she wasn’t attracted to dominant men. She liked to wear the pants and being handled by a man like Mac made her realize no matter what she did to push him away, he could handle it. She’d always been conscious of her strength compared to human men. With Mac, she was very aware she didn’t have to hold back anything.
Mac leaned down, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. When she tried to jerk back, his hand cupped the back of her head and held her in place. His tongue delved into her mouth when she tried to speak and she shuddered as his heat penetrated through the thin material of her business suit. His hand collared her throat and moved down to her breasts and squeezed. Jillian jerked away and he caught her hand before it could smack him across the face. She opened her mouth to yell at him when she realized she had a hand, not a claw. Her mouth snapped shut. Mac dragged her out of the apartment before she could gather her wits.
Chapter Three
Mac didn’t release her hand as they rode the elevator down to the ground floor. She stared into the metal reflection. That wild, bad boy thing most humans tried to pass off looked damn good on Mac. It made her want to be very, very bad. Appalled at herself, she tried to get away from him and froze when he growled. She had no clue about wolf behavior, but she was pretty sure growling wasn’t good. She didn’t like that her wolf and body responded to him. Not at all. She tugged on her blazer, which suddenly felt too tight.
When they walked out into the sunshine and busy pedestrian traffic, she tried to slip her hand from his, but Mac tightened his hold. She dug her fingernails into his skin, but he didn’t react.
“I don’t like to be touched,” she hissed up at him.
“Wolves need touch.”
“I don’t.”
“I’ve never met a wolf who needs touch more than you.”
“I’m not a wolf.” Did he think she needed coddling?
“Whatever you say, honey.”
“Don’t call me honey.”
She must be in some alternate reality because this couldn’t be happening. She looked at people they passed on the street, wondering if the world turned upside down. No one made eye contact and no one sensed that she and Mac weren’t quite human. She saw several women look Mac over appreciatively, but he didn’t pause. Jillian matched Mac’s long stride and stared when they passed the cafe where she sat yesterday. Why had she been sitting there? How did she buy her coffee with no money or purse? Had she been waiting for someone? Where did her ridiculous outfit come from?
When they stopped at the crosswalk, she caught Mac looking her over.
“What?” she snapped.
“I’m not used to seeing you like this.”
She raised her brows. “How are you used to seeing me?”
“Naked.”
“In your dreams,” Jillian snapped and glared at a businessman who turned to wink at her.
She felt Mac stiffen, but before he could do anything, the light changed and they crossed the street. He led her into a parking garage and opened the passenger door of a gray SUV. She hesitated in the doorway and inhaled. She could smell that she’d been in this SUV before. The stench of dried blood that wasn’t detectable to humans assailed her. She smelled her own blood, her mother’s and two that weren’t familiar. Something flickered at the edges of her mind, but once again, it floated away before she could grasp it.
She looked at Mac and couldn’t determine anything with his eyes hidden by shades. Up until this moment, she wasn’t sure if he was lying. Now, she knew. He wasn’t the crazy one here. She knew Mac, she just couldn’t remember him. She shook her head and hopped into the seat. Her hands trembled as she buckled herself in. She tried to rationalize what she was doing, but her mind was a whirlpool of blurry thoughts and emotions. She knew one thing. Mac knew more about what was happening than her and her mom was involved. She couldn’t stay in the city with her control in shreds.
Jillian glanced into the empty back seat and tried to remember being in this car, but her mind was blank and it was beginning to freak her out. Her wolf growled and paced within her and she sat like a marble statue as Mac fired up the engine and navigated his way expertly through New York City traffic. She looked around the Village- at the familiar buildings and shops she passed on her way to work. She accepted a promotion recently at her job, Chic Interiors. She worked so hard to move into a real office. She had big clients and decorated apartments on the Upper East Side and now… Now, it didn’t matter. Her carefully planned life was gone and she didn’t even care.
The endless stream of people on the sidewalks and the cacophony she enjoyed yesterday, now pressed in on her senses and she closed her eyes against it. When she had a better hold on herself, she watched the city pass her by. New York was the only home she’d ever known and she couldn’t stay, burrowed in the heart of humanity when she was a living, breathing monster. Jillian suspected her mom used New York as a form of protection from other wolves who avoided cities. With the stink of so many humans, Jillian was undetectable. She should be terrified of leaving everything that was familiar to her and letting this wolf drive her into the wilderness, but all she cared about was staying sane in her human skin. If what Mac said was true about her mom- the pain was so severe, it took every ounce of control she had to stop her wolf from taking over.
Neither of them spoke during the two and a half hour drive to Upstate New York. She stared out at the trees and rolling hills illuminated by brilliant sunshine while her thoughts revolved around her mom. When Mac turned onto a dirt road, she jolted and grunted in pain when her bruised side hit the door.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, glancing sideways at her.
“Nothing.”
“We’re almost there.”
The dirt road gave way to a paved one. Tree branches moved gently in the breeze and the land was naked of any buildings. Her stomach lurched nervously as Mac approached a simple house set in the middle of a cluster of towering trees. He got out of the SUV and came around to her door. The fresh air that swept in made that tight ball of fear, confusion and pain ease. Her wolf urged her to strip off her clothes and run as far and fast as she could. The civilized part of her sat immobile, hands twisted together in her lap.
When she showed no signs of moving, Mac leaned around her to unbuckle the seat belt. Even as she opened her mouth to speak, he tugged her out of the truck. Her heels sank into the damp earth and she clutched his arm so she wouldn’t fall. She looked at her foreign surroundings and took a deep, cautious breath.
“This is my place. You spent most of your time here as a wolf. You were getting better before you disappeared.”
Her automatic response was denial, but she kept her mouth shut. She watched squirrels dash up a tree trunk and chatter to each other before she lurched into motion. She walked across the yard to a generous front porch with a swing. She waited with crossed arms for Mac to unlock the front door. He took his time ambling over and when he reached past her and opened the door without bothering with a key, she shot him a frosty glare before she entered.
Jillian was surprised to see how modern the interior was. The floor was polished hardwood and strategic skylights let in shafts of bright light. All of the furniture was oversized, dark and masculine and everything was clean and well cared for. To the left was a U shaped open kitchen with an island and a staircase. To the right was a generous living room and short hallway.
The interior decorator in her looked around for things to organize, rearrange or replace. Her heart skipped. The furniture arrangement was perfect, everything sparkled the way she liked and… She shivered when she realized the house had her touch on it. She’d been here before, she just couldn’t remember it.
“Anything ring a bell?” Mac asked.
Her tension ratcheted up. “No.”
She followed Mac down the hallway, which had two bedrooms across from each other and a bathroom. She entered the room on the right that Mac gestured her into. There were claws marks on the wall and the headboard lo
oked as if it had been gnawed on by a rabid bear. Jillian saw her favorite red sweater tossed on a trunk and her perfumes and lotions lined the windowsill. It was a bizarre experience to be in a room, knowing you arranged everything in it and have no recollection of being there in your life. Jillian liked to organize things from tallest to shortest, thick to thin, dark to light and so on. Everything in this room had her signature from the position of the furniture to the way her clothes hung in the closet. She sank on the bed and buried her face in trembling hands.
Mac cupped the back of her neck and she shrugged his touch away. He said something, but she was too distracted to hear it. She couldn’t breathe. She walked out of the bedroom, down the hallway and out the front door. She walked down the steps and half ran, half stumbled away from the house towards the forest.
“Jillian!”
Hard hands grasped her shoulders and spun her around. She tried to kick or shove away from him, but he avoided her hits and shook her hard.
“Calm down.”
“How can I?” she gasped, twisting in his grasp. “I don’t remember this place, you, what happened to my mom…”
“You can’t run from this.”
“I’m not. I just need time to think! None of this makes sense.”
Mac picked her up and carried her to the porch swing. He sat on the railing across from her and watched as she struggled to find her composure. She clutched shaking hands together in her lap and her back was so straight, it was a wonder she didn’t snap in half. Despite the circumstances, her face was composed. If he didn’t know her, he would have missed the signs that she was panicked and distraught. Mac tossed something on her lap. For a moment, she didn’t register what she was seeing and then she blinked back tears.
