Weremones

by Buffi Becraft-Woodall

  “And you expect me to hang my degrees, where?”

  He arched an eyebrow, showing only mild irritation. The heat of his anger flared along her senses, making Diana gasp. She realized she’d pushed him too far. Still she didn’t feel in any real danger from him. Just perhaps in ticking him off.

  “I’m sorry.” She rubbed at her temples and tried to move away. “I think I’m getting overwhelmed by too many werewolves in too short a time. Maybe I need to switch gears, take on vampires, or dragons, or something.”

  The switch that had tripped Tank’s anger flipped the opposite and he was suddenly calm again, but she could feel the effort behind the emotion.

  “Two things, little sister.”

  Tank held out a careful, elegant hand using the other to guide her back to the blanket where he proceeded to run light hands over her bare ankle. It didn’t seem as sprained as it had before. At the time she’d wrenched it, she knew she’d be off her feet for a couple of weeks.

  “We are wolven. Werewolves are the degenerates of society.”

  “Oh. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “I know.”

  “And the other thing?”

  Tank looked a little distracted, so Diana prompted him.

  “You said two things. That was one.”

  “Hmmm.”

  He carefully, very circumspectly, looked at the claw marks on her thigh. There was no way she was letting him check out her butt.

  “Doctor Tank?”

  “Hmmm?”

  Very gently he pulled the sleeve up over her shoulder. She thought about telling him that she really felt better. Unaccountably so.

  Her stomach hardly twinged, despite the fact that she’d swallowed a decent amount of blood. The bites, claw marks, and wrenched ankle felt pretty good considering she’d only been banged up and chewed on a few hours ago.

  Her Weird-O-Meter was tapped out. She might be able to put two and two together, but she wasn’t ready to accept the answer. Or dwell on what had happened earlier. Not tonight.

  “Tank?”

  She touched a hand to his shoulder, finding out that his skin really was a smooth and velvety as it looked. And warm, feverishly warm.

  It wasn’t until she noticed the flare of his nostrils, or the dilated look in his nearly black eyes that Diana realized that he might have the same lusty feelings Chase had. Tank was just better at hiding what he felt.

  God, she missed her underwear! A woman could be dressed in a snowsuit and a parka, and without her bra and panties, she was naked. Without the snowsuit and parka, she simply wished the bra and panties matched.

  “What was the other thing?”

  His smile was a white gleam in his face. More dangerous for standing out against the darkness of his skin, making her breath catch again with a little dart of fear. His intense focus settled on her mouth.

  “Dragons,” he breathed.

  Diana felt the trembling hold he kept on the calm and didn’t move a muscle.

  “You wouldn’t want to meet a dragon, little sister.”

  “Why not?”

  He let her scoot away. Diana watched him gather his control back. Tank turned his head slightly away and inhaled, clearing his nose of her scent.

  “Because psychics are considered a great delicacy among dragonkind.”

  Diana shuddered. “Oh.”

  Though Tank had stood and stepped away, she noticed that he clenched and unclenched his fists, like he’d done when resisting the urge to join the fight.

  She really needed to convince them to take her home. But here was the opportunity to get some of her werewolf questions answered. The only one that jumped into her head, popped out of her mouth before she could censor the words. “So, what do psychics smell like?”

  She’d forgotten about Chase with Tank hovering over her. But the gleam in his golden eyes said that he hadn’t forgotten her.

  “Delicious. You, in particular, are tasty enough to nibble.”

  “Sorry, been there done that. I don’t think the last one had his rabies shots.”

  Chase’s soft laugh was wicked and wild. “I said nibble, not bite. You don’t hurry fine dining.”

  It was Diana’s turn to laugh, but she was unsure of herself. The sound wasn’t merry. She didn’t understand. Helen of Troy was beautiful. Diana Ridley was pretty if you liked plump.

  But these two, three, no four if she counted Adam and Dog, acted like Diana was the goddess she was named for. She could see that a little bluntness was needed. “Look, I don’t understand what’s going on here. I’m not all that. And, I know for a fact that I look like I’ve been dragged through hell, because the demon-Dog was the one doing the dragging. Why all the sex appeal?”

  If the two werewolves, wolven, hadn’t been standing beside one another, their twin looks of surprise would have been less hilarious. All right, they would have been funny if the situation had been less charged.

  “Not that I don’t appreciate your jumping in to save me.” The last bit she kind of tagged on, since she realized she’d never thanked them.

  Diana swallowed, really, really aware of the lack of undies. And that she hadn’t thanked them.

  “Dear God, woman. Don’t think thoughts like that or we’ll never get you back without doing more than flirting.”

  Chase heaved a breath and turned away, his body visibly raging for release. Diana licked her lips, nervous. She shouldn’t have looked and vowed not check out Tank to see if he was as aroused.

  She looked. He was. Damn. A little thrill at being found attractive by two such males ran through her before she squelched it. Damn, damn, damn.

  “You read my mind?”

  “No.” His voice was strangled. “Your face.” He took a breath of air away from her direction, and winced. “And your smell.”

  “What’s wrong with the way I smell?” she asked, indignant.

  Okay, well she might not be daisy fresh. But she was pretty darn sure they hadn’t found a shower handy to clean up by either.

  The loose predatory roll of Tank’s shoulders tensed and straightened into his more scholarly role. Diana could feel him latch onto the distance that answering her question provided. It was Chase’s whine that truly broke the moment.

  “I can’t do this.” He whirled and growled at his friend. Tank tensed back up, an answering growl rumbling from his chest. Chase pointed a finger at Diana.

  “I can’t just stand here, doing nothing! Not with her dressed like that, smelling like ... like …”

  The blond werewolf jerked his body around, the only non-graceful move she’d seen from any of them. His breath was almost a pant. He practically glided to the bikes.

  Tank rubbed a hand over his face and sighed.

  “He’s right. It is time to take you home.” With that he moved to pick up the blanket, quickly folding the fabric into a tight square, brushing aside her offer of help with a turn of his shoulder and a mild rumble.

  Fine. She didn’t get it. They were hot one moment and antisocial the next.

  Besides, Diana told herself, ignoring the little pang at the sudden loss of attention. She had responsibilities. She needed to get home. She might not have to work tomorrow but there was always stuff around the house to do.

  “Here, slide your arms inside.” Warm breath on her neck made her shiver and look back at Chase’s golden wolf eyes. He gestured with the coat in his hands. His face was serious for once, his mood as distant as Tank’s.

  “Wear this. You need more to cover you with the ride back.”

  She made out the expensive lines of a long coat. It smelled of leather of course.

  “Thank you. Both of you. I mean it. For everything.”

  He nodded and dropped the leather coat over her shoulders and very deliberately stepped back. Surprisingly, it was light, the fabric soft as a chamois cloth under the hand she ran down it.

  It wasn’t a coat. It was a duster. Snaps, not buttons ran down the front of it and up the sides. The
wind shifted the loose back panels.

  He handed back her shoes, the strappy black heels she’d thought made her legs look longer, and sexy. There was only a twinge of discomfort as she slipped them on.

  “Um, I know this sounds stupid. But, how did I heal so fast?”

  “I told you Tank’s a doc. He knows what to do.”

  He wasn’t going to give her anymore than that about the miraculous healing.

  Besides, she could hazard a guess on that one, given the strange taste in her mouth. She desperately needed a toothbrush.

  “Okay. Thanks again. Am I going to turn into a, a wolven?”

  Chase choked out a laugh and slid down on his rump with a belly roll of mirth.

  She glanced over at Tank. His own hastily smothered grin made her narrow her eyes.

  “What? He bit me!”

  “Little sister, the only female wolven you will find are those who were born to the species.”

  “So, you can’t contract lycanthropy from a bite?”

  Tank shook his head, all the mirth bled from his face. At her feet, Chase sobered and looked up at her.

  “Naw. We can catch it fine. It’s females who don’t.”

  “Why?”

  Chase ignored Tank’s warning growl. He stood and dusted off the back of his leather pants. The mischievous light in his eye gleamed once more.

  “Because you already have something more terrifying that lycanthropy can’t compete with.”

  Okay, she’d bite. She foolishly asked what it was. Chase grinned and reached out.

  He snagged her hand, and tugged her toward the bikes.

  “PMS.”

  A motorcycle roared, making her jump and scaring what little wits she had left.

  She turned to face Tank, unreadable in everyway. He nodded in her direction.

  It was time to go. She carefully gathered the beautiful duster and climbed up behind him, not nearly so graceful as the werewolves, no wolven.

  Slipping her arms around his waist, she settled closer. The man could been a heated lava rock for all the rigidity in his body. He might have been unaffected, but the ride back was a wild one.

  The heat of the man in front of her, the motorcycle vibrating there, the wind in her face made Diana feel more alive, freer than ever. She didn’t want it to end. And then, anticlimactically, Tank leaned left, and pulled into the driveway.

  ———

  Chase aided her dismount. Faster than she could move, his hands wrapped around her waist and lifted her from the machine.

  When she looked up, the teasing was gone. His eyes were a serious whisky amber.

  “What is it?” She whispered, caught up in the moment. The warmth of the engine and the men enveloped her more securely than the coat.

  He reached up with one finer, the rough pad of his finger smoothing away the frown while something heavier weighted down her pocket.

  “Shhh.” The finger touched her lips stopping the question. “It’s not registered or traceable. Learn to use it with one shot.”

  He was giving her a gun? What happened to old fashioned flowers and candy?

  The finger pressed firmly against her lips and he leaned in close. His scent and Tank’s were suddenly strong in her nose, clear, identifiable as a fingerprint.

  “Regular ammo hurts like a bitch and slows anything supernatural down. Wereanything, vamps, and the like, use silver and aim to kill. ‘Cause once they get over the regular stuff, they are coming after you. Got it?”

  She blinked trying to absorb why anyone would try to come after her. Chase shook her. His voice was a harsh growl.

  “Got it?”

  She nodded and opened her mouth to ask why. The door slammed open.

  “Mom!”

  Diana felt the blast of fear and urgency as Karen bolted toward her. She hesitated because of the men. They moved aside, but only a couple of steps for the girl to pass.

  Karen threw her arms around her mother.

  Diana felt awful to be the cause of her daughter’s misery.

  “Shhh.” She soothed, rubbing big circles on Karen’s back. “It’s all right.”

  “No. It’s not.”

  The rest of Karen’s answer garbled into the coat as Diana’s attention focused on the man approaching from the house. The twins followed like two bristling hounds.

  “Dad came after Adam left. He, Dad, said you were ... were ...”

  Karen stuttered without finishing. “He and Bradley fought.”

  Diana noted, with satisfaction, the bruise on her ex’s face. Too bad she couldn’t praise Bradley’s effort on her behalf.

  Karen’s hands tightened on Diana as she noticed the big bikers.

  On cue, Bradley snarled at the intruders. Usually mild Brandon mirrored his brother.

  “It’s about time you showed up.” The Dick gave the boys room while raking his eyes over her rumpled appearance.

  “Why are you here Richard?”

  All the other males present growled inaudibly. The rumble of the air was no more than a sound. She didn’t know if they were picking up on her irritation or posing for each other’s benefit.

  Diana reached out through the pack link to enfold all of the children in a blanket of comfort and peace. Tank’s sharp jerk, and Chase’s more audible growl, told her she’d spilled over to the other wolven.

  “My daughter called with a crazy story about a stray dog breaking into the house and you being kidnapped.”

  Richard always did like to exaggerate, to put down others and make himself look better. He sneered at Diana, spreading his hands to encompass everything.

  “And here it is five AM. Apparently the only thing I need to worry about is the example you are setting for my children.”

  That was a lie. Richard never cared much about what happened to the children so long as he wasn’t bothered and they were available for holidays.

  Matthew, her son, shifted uncomfortably at the back of the group, close to his father. He glared at Tank and Chase with as much hostility as the twins, adding a large dose of fire for his mother, as well. Eerily, she was reminded of a much younger Richard.

  Judgmental and angry, like his father had been when he’d walked out on her.

  She tried for gracious, as much as she could muster, without underwear, and covered in a borrowed leather duster in the warm early summer night.

  It was pretty obvious what she was or wasn’t wearing underneath. It made that lack of underwear thing a little more embarrassing.

  Richard was beginning to seriously piss her off. How had she stood his smug attitude all these years? By playing nice to keep the peace. God she was a wimp.

  Before she could castigate herself more, the freight train of emotion that was Adam slammed through her barriers. She thought she was pissed, Adam was a red fury.

  He was on his way. He knew where she was through the strange magical tie that bound the pack together. And her to them.

  She smiled at Tank then Chase. “You guys better go. I can handle this.”

  “You sure?”

  Cocky again, Chase stared over Richard, dismissing the twins and Matthew with a flick of his eyes.

  Oh. Yes. She was sure. She didn’t need this much supernatural testosterone in her driveway at five o’clock in the morning.

  They’d all kill one another when Adam got here.

  Her rescuers stared past her to Richard, their eyes catching the porch light with the feral intensity of wolves.

  “Yes. Thank you again. Go,” she urged at the men’s obvious reluctance.

  Chase’s amber eyes flared with amber light as he looked down at Karen, quiet and still between them. He traced a finger down the wide-eyed girl’s face. His voice was low and intimate.

  “Stay safe Diana. Remember, you’re on the menu.”

  He turned abruptly for his bike. The action caused Bradley to snap. He darted forward, faster than a blink, barreling into the blond biker.

  “Bradley!” Karen screamed.


  “No!” Diana echoed, reflexively trying to hold on to Karen as she twisted free, athletic as any gymnast, to go to her boyfriend.

  The two rolled over in the yard, sounding like a couple of junkyard dogs.

  In the dim light Diana could see Bradley’s handsome face distorted. She saw a hint of fang and claw as he tried to reach Chase’s jugular.

  Older and stronger, he easily held the boy’s head away and dodged Karen’s kick.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Diana grabbed at Brandon before he joined the free for all.

  For a change, he looked like a thinner version of his brother. Danger radiated from him. He didn’t resist as she pulled him close.

  For all the potential Brandon carried hidden inside to be a dangerous predator, more violence would harm his gentle soul.

  “No, stay with me.” Dina held tight, frantically trying to think of a way to end the fight. The water hose? Brandon’s body strained to go to his brother’s aid, but he didn’t fight Diana’s restraining hand.

  “God, you are so incompetent Diana. This is just like you.”

  Diana started. She’d forgotten about Richard. Matthew stood behind his father, trembling with emotion.

  “Oh, I don’t think so. Go home Richard. This is none of your business.”

  Diana split her attention between the combatants rolling mere feet from them and her ex. Richard reached out a hand snagging Karen when she bounced too close.

  “Hey!”

  “Anything that involves my children is my business.” He gave Karen a little shake to get her attention, speaking first to his daughter then to Diana. “Matthew, take your sister and get in the car. Now you’re bringing home weirdoes. You need a professional. “

  Dark vicious emotions rolled off of Richard. The need to hurt jabbed at Diana sharp as a knife.

  With a last snarl, Chase pinned Bradley the ground. Not a scratch marred the boy, other than what he’d picked up rolling across the grass. Chase ground a knee in the boy’s stomach, forcing a whine as Bradley reluctantly submitted.

  Tank stepped in front of Richard, stopping him. The very real danger to Richard pressed in on her from all sources as all the wolven focused on him.

  Brandon gripped Diana’s hand. She squeezed reassuringly and let go, reaching out to lay a hand on Tank’s dark velvety skin.