Mated to a Cajun Werewolf

by Selena Blake

  His knuckles turned white as he squeezed the supple rubber. Another shrill ring alerted him to an incoming call. He released his death grip on the wheel and grabbed the phone. Jules' number flashed across the screen.

  Never any peace...

  “Bonjour,” he answered.

  “Angelica says your flight is canceled,” his brother said without pleasantries.

  “It was. Hurricane's churnin' up the weather. I rented a car.”

  “Bien. Good. We need you back here rapidement. Sebastian is trying to track down notre mère.”

  “Why on earth is he looking for Mother?” André didn't bother to lower his voice. Juliette had always known of the problems between mother and sons.

  “You do remember that she hired an assassin to kill our cousin last month, oui?”

  Of course he did. That night had ended in a semi-epic battle that had left the putrid taste of vampire blood in his mouth. And their home of twenty years had almost burned to the ground. Yes, he remembered.

  “I also remember that Violet was under a binding spell and that she and Laurent have been holed up at the cabin for the last month humping like wild rabbits.”

  Jules laughed. “True, true. How did the meetings go?” André had the fleeting thought that if his brothers could be untangled from their women long enough they'd know how the meetings went firsthand...but that was unfair. He didn't deride their happiness. But if he was honest with himself he'd admit he was jealous as hell. At one point he'd had it all. It being the blue eyed angel of his dreams.

  But losing her wasn't Jules fault. “Everything is going according to plan. The Bobs flew back last night. We should be ready to turn everything over within the month.” He flipped on his turn signal and slowly merged with traffic.

  “There's been a slight hiccup on our end.”

  André's hand tightened around the phone. “Hiccup?” His mind raced with possibilities.

  “A leak of information. Rumors are spreading quickly. Burke's headed down to the docks to smooth things over.” Thank God for their calm, infallible cousin. His deep voice and towering height commanded attention, and when he spoke, others listened. Everything would be all right. He would smooth things over, share a laugh, and alleviate fears.

  “When will you be home, do you think?” Jules asked.

  There was that word again. Home. And for the second time today André wondered where home really was. He'd lived in many places in his lifetime...most recently the sprawling estate that had been burned to ashes. But for whatever reason, it didn't feel like home. He liked Louisiana, loved the bayous, the wild beauty, unpredictable nature. But something was always missing.

  “I've got to run an errand, but I'll be there as soon as I can get out of this damn traffic.”

  “Are you all right, mon frere? You sound...different?” Did he? He supposed it was the shock of seeing his mate again for the first time in sixty plus years, combined with a hurricane from hell and drivers who didn't know their nose from their ass.

  “I'll be fine. Give the girls my love.” He ended the call and dropped the phone into the console. The rain drizzled to a stop and the mass of cars crept forward another inch but it did nothing to improve his mood.

  Juliette sat there silently until she couldn't stand it any longer. “The girls?” Her voice sounded shrill even to her own ears. Was it possible? Could André have daughters? They couldn't be his, though, could they? It wasn't supposed to work like that. A werewolf could only mate with his, well, mate. And Juliette was André's mate. And unless he died, he always would be.

  The sudden thought of André dying, of never being able to see him again made her heart ache painfully. She ignored it.

  “Oui.” He gave her one of those heart-melting smiles. She popped another Milky Way into her mouth to curb the lust pooling in her belly. “Amanda and Sebastian were married in June. Angelica is Jules fiancé.”

  She'd be lying if she didn't admit that she looked him up from time to time. It was her silly, lovesick heart, the yearning to see his face if only in a photograph. And though the other Deveraux men were often seen out and about, especially Sebastian with his string of high profile affairs, it was rare to see André's picture gracing the pages of the newspaper. He kept to himself, stayed on the sidelines.

  That was André, quiet, studious, always calculating the next move. But she hadn't heard anything of a marriage, and engagement, and a sale of their corporation. She'd been too busy trying to save Vassar Enterprises.

  “And Laurent?” she asked, reaching for another chocolate.

  “That's an interesting story. Evidently my mother hired an assassin to kill him. The assassin turned out to be his long lost love, Violet.”

  “Your mother?” She'd always heard the rumors about the Luna of Deveraux pack...but to hire an assassin? That was surprising even for her. “Take the next left. Why would she do such a thing?”

  He didn't answer but she saw his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. “Finally,” he muttered, turning south away from the traffic.

  “I saw her before I left France, you know.” She popped another chocolate in her mouth, willing the chocolate to work its magic.

  The car jerked to a halt and slid off the wet pavement. “You saw my mother?”

  “André!” Juliette braced her hands against the dashboard.

  He put the vehicle in park and turned toward her. “Explain.”

  “She told me fate has a cruel sense of humor. I can see now how right she is.” The only thing that could come of their meeting today was more anguish and she had enough to last two lifetimes.

  Too freaking bad her lifetime was infinite.

  “What else did she say?”

  “Why the sudden interest in the woman who gave you life? She told me you haven't spoken to her in two centuries.”

  “You know why. And I just told you she tried to have my cousin killed.”

  His cousin was luckier than her brother. “Why would she do something like that, André?” Why his cousin? Why not go after him or his brothers?

  “Ask her next time you see her...if Sebastian doesn't kill her first.”

  “She's your mother, no matter how much you hate her. She told me she wants the best for you. All of you.” Marie Deveraux had sounded so sincere when they’d bumped into each other on the street last week.

  A string of curses echoed through the car.

  “Why won't you believe me? Why do you hate family so much? Why are you always so hell bent on finding a bad guy in everyone else?” Juliette's questions echoed through the car, her hands constantly in motion as she spoke. But the more important question was why did she care?

  “I don't hate family. I hate my mother.”

  “Why?” She turned her body toward him, forgetting about the way her dress rode up her thighs.

  “I don't want to talk about it. But you're not to speak to her ever again.” He put the car in drive and stepped so hard on the gas pedal that she fell back against her seat. Exasperated, she frowned. Men. She popped another heavenly candy into her mouth and folded her arms across her chest again. She would not beg him for answers.

  But she was dying of curiosity. It was the same curiosity that had been her downfall all those years ago. From the first time she's seen him, she'd wanted to get to know him, to learn more about him, to understand him. Hah. Two hundred years and she still hadn't figured out André Deveraux.

  Chapter Three

  André sped down the empty road, lost in thought. If Juliette knew what his mother had done to him, what she'd said to him and his brothers she wouldn't wonder why he hated Marie Bernard-Deveraux.

  “André!” Juliette's startled cry jerked him from the memories and his gaze focused as the front right tire dropped off the pavement onto the soft shoulder.

  He exhaled sharply and eased the big vehicle back onto the road. The windshield wipers continued swiping back and forth through the thick sheets of rain. Damn. He couldn’t let his mind wander. No
t at a time like this.

  Maybe later…when he was parked. Preferably in bed where he could be alone with his thoughts. Maybe then he’d let himself analyze their meeting and his reaction to the brunette beauty at his side.

  “Sorry,” he muttered.

  Juliette tried not to notice the tenderness in André’s voice. But that was about as easy as ignoring his affect on her. The way her pulse raced at the sound of his deep voice or the way her skin heated beneath his gaze. Her body remembered every seductive thing he'd ever done to it. It remembered and craved his touch once again.

  Her breasts longed for the feel of his talented hands; her nipples beaded, cried out for the pinch of his fingers. Her sex wept for his kiss, the talented mastery of his tongue.

  Unable to help herself, her gaze kept drifting over to the strong sure hands that wrapped around the wheel. Those long, tan fingers had driven her mindless with pleasure more than once. And she’d be willing to bet her Donna Karans that he could do it again.

  She squirmed against the leather seat and dropped her gaze to his lap. The suit was exquisitely cut, even with his large cock tenting the front. The knowledge that he was turned on, that she still turned him on, made everything feminine inside her clench with need. The desire gripping her most feminine parts was so strong she had to look away, trying to think of anything else but his erection. But the longing remained tight in her womb.

  The crisp white of his shirt emphasized his tawny skin, highlighted his black hair and impossibly dark eyes. She’d learned what to look for in clothes these past few years. When had he?

  No, she didn’t want to know. She wouldn’t think of the past. Her trip back to the States was necessary. It was time to settle her family's estate, decide what to keep and what to sell then she could move on with her life. Make up her mind about the family business.

  Her timing sucked though. With Hurricane Love barreling up the Atlantic, Juliette should have waited another week before returning. Perhaps two. But she was here now. Of course, the hurricane might destroy the house and everything inside it which meant she'd returned for nothing. The land might be worth something, but probably not much.

  “Take the next right,” she told him.

  André flipped on the turn signal and skillfully maneuvered the big vehicle onto the muddy drive. The drive that normally took about forty-five minutes had turned into three hours, but they were here. Finally.

  Tall grass and weeds crowded the old gravel road. She frowned. Ever since she'd fled the country a year ago she'd been paying a local landscaper to keep the grounds tidied. But as they continued down the drive, it was obvious that the crooks weren't doing their job. The grass wasn't just unkempt, it was overgrown.

  Her father, the Alpha of Vassar Pack, had always insisted on keeping a neat appearance, personally and around the estate. After his death, she'd wanted the same for their home. She'd always planned to return one day, either to live or to sell. But this was not the welcome she'd imagined.

  To her right, she saw the orchard of pecan trees through the heavy rain. The nimble limbs danced in the wind, almost like they were waving at her.

  “This is your house?” André’s voice snapped her attention to the main house. Her eyes focused on the dirty structure, swept it from top to bottom and left to right.

  No, she wanted to tell him. That was not her house. But that was a lie. It was her house. Somehow, the once beautiful and stately manor house was now dirty, dingy, and dark. One of the evergreen shutters was askew, probably hanging on by a nail.

  What an apt description that was for her current emotional state.

  Assorted furniture was strewn across the front porch and piles of what looked like garbage crowded the front door.

  Juliette started to shake. What the hell was going on here?

  André almost reached for her but thought better of it. She licked her lips and looked down at her hands.

  “My family is dead. Murdered in their sleep. Just over a year ago.” Her words were matter of fact, like she was reading from a teleprompter, like she'd said and recited them so many times that they came automatically now. “I came home from a business trip and found them, but I never found Jacque's body. I assume that they took him.” Her hands trembled.

  So that's why her eyes were so haunted. She'd lost her precious family. He turned toward her then.

  Her beautiful blue eyes glistened with unshed tears. And it was as if the time, the pain, their history was silent...for a single moment. They were back as they'd once been. Just the two of them, not hearing the rest of the world. Locked in each other.

  The rain and dark skies transported André back to the day that he’d first seen Juliette. The memory was crystal clear, almost as if he were reliving it. He’d been five. Not fully assured of his ability to change, he’d been in the forest zapping from his human form to that of his wolf and back again.

  It was rough being a young werewolf. In a wolf’s life he was just past his teen years, but as a human, he was only a boy. A boy with the ability to become a woodland hunter. And something darker and much more dangerous. Learning to control his wolf and the beast within was all important. His mind and body were constantly at war.

  He’d heard a yelp and then a rustle. Instincts on full alert, his tail had bristled and his ears perked up.

  A crash to his left had him pivoting around to see a bundle of dark fur roll headlong down the embankment.

  Currently in his wolf form, his senses kicked into overdrive. He sniffed the air. Two scents wafted along the forest floor toward him, telling him everything he needed to know. Werewolf. Female.

  The pup landed at his feet, all paws and oversized ears. She stared up at him with big blue eyes. He saw curiosity and interest there. And he could swear she smiled. Her scent chased all others away until the only thing registering in his brain was mother’s milk and sweet puppy. She must only be three or four months old.

  In the coming years she’d grow into a beauty. His wolf knew it even as the boy inside him wanted to shift. Pick her up and cuddle her close, the boy cried. André, the boy, was dying to sink his fingers into her warm fur and kiss the top of her head.

  In the distance, a wolf called. The pup’s ears twitched back and forth. Then she darted into the underbrush.

  André stared after her feeling oddly thunderstruck. It was like the first time he’d helped the pack take down a kill. His heart had raced to the point he’d been sure his blood would pump right out of his body. He’d wanted to lay there all day, admiring his work. And yet, he’d wanted to stick his nose in it, fill his lungs with the copper-like fragrance. He licked his lips, remembering how strong the urge had been to taste it, experience everything about it.

  Something about the charming little pup made him want to do the same. Lay there and stare at her, soak in her scent. Briefly, he thought about following her, see where she went, what pack she belonged to, but that was a crazy idea.

  He was on the hunt, hungry for food. Girls, pups or otherwise, shouldn’t…couldn’t interfere. He had to master his shifting abilities and prove to his brothers that he could find a rabbit and bring it back. And he had to do it before they did.

  Her family had ruled her then. But no longer. Now they were dead. Gone. Murdered. The pain, the truth was there in her eyes.

  “I'm sorry. So sorry, Juliette.” When he'd first met Juliette, he'd had nothing against the Vassars. Just because his family had been warring with hers for decades didn't mean he wanted to fight. If anything he'd been foolish enough to believe that they could mend the rift.

  But that had been before he'd met her family. Before they'd learned he was a Deveraux. After that, everything had changed. Her passion had been the same, but her heart...was conflicted.

  The voice on the radio warned of a mandatory evacuation. Juliette wiped her tears with the pad of her thumb, then the back of her finger, her gaze never leaving the house. “It was a long time ago. I came back to sell the estate and find answers,” s
he said a few moments later.

  “Answers?”

  “Who killed my family? What happened to my brother?”

  And just like that, the spell was broken. “And you think you'll find those answers? In there? After all this time?”

  “I don't know. Maybe.”

  How the hell had he gotten into this mess? It was like he was in an alternate universe. It wasn't enough that he was a freak of nature, destined to a life of emptiness without the woman destined to be his other half. Now she was back in his life, playing with his emotions, gaining his sympathy. He wanted to bite something. Hit someone. He settled for jabbing the radio's off button with his finger.

  “There's a mandatory evacuation, Juliette. Maybe you should just forget about the house till after the storm and come home with me.” Fuck. Had he really said that? And did it have to sound so damn...right?

  “Forget about it? That's my life in there. My past. The answers to what happened to my family could be in there.”

  “And you waited a whole year for them.”

  “I was scared, André. An emotion I'm sure you've never felt.”

  How wrong she was. He was scared now. Scared of losing her again, scared of opening his heart to her too.

  They sat there a long moment watching the storm batter the house. He had half a mind to back up and head back the way he came, forget about his plan and take her somewhere safe to wait out the storm. The way the skies opened up told him that this place was anywhere but safe.

  “I buried them. My own Pack. I buried every one of them. Out back, by the river. I burned the sheets. I searched for Jacques. For any trace of him. And when I realized I wasn't going to find him I took the next flight out of Atlanta to Paris.”

  God help him, the pain in her voice made him want to hold her, protect her from ever hurting again. To hell with his plan...he put the car in reverse but didn't take his foot off the brake.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I'm taking you back to Louisiana with me.”