by Lynde Lakes
Flirting with this handsome stranger was playing with fire on several levels. But realistically, how could a simple gardener be a threat? Why not give him a whirl? Holding back has been a metaphor for my life. I’ve been so busy looking forward to something yet- to-be-discovered that perhaps I’m missing the here-and-now. Darn it, a woman of twenty-one should be able to test the waters. I’m sick of denying my desires.
But a persistent voice in her head warned, If I give in to my desires too soon, I might lose out on true love. An icy chill slithered over her. Or lose my life. The threat of the resurrected walking-dead makes it imperative that I’m very careful to whom I surrender my love.
Chapter Four
When darkness fell and the moon rose high, Valerie scaled the terrace railing agilely in wolf form. It seemed her eagerness to learn if the amorous wolf was safe had made her morphing process less painful and speedier. Her process might be faster than Uncle Hugh’s, especially since he’d been shot last night. Would the hunter’s attack discourage him from following and protecting her? She doubted it. He was a brave one and had always been there for her. She thought of her stronger, confident, and cleverer twin who seemed adept at skirting danger. Valerie took a deep, confidence-boosting breath. Maybe it’s time to count on myself. But am I up to it?
As she ran through the brush, she picked up the young alpha’s scent. Did that mean he was all right, or was he lying injured, alone and needing help?
Then she saw him! He was poised on the pedestal-boulder watching her with his
alert, lupine eyes. There was nothing to indicate an injury. If anything, he looked more compelling than the night before. The glow from the full moon highlighted his silvery-gray coat and startling, bold markings. His alpha beauty sent her she-wolf heart pounding out of control.
Okay, he’s all right, so run while you have the chance.
She tried to move, but remained rooted to the spot. His steady, feral gaze was hypnotizing and drew her deeper into his complicated seduction. Maybe if I pretend to give in to my desires, I can maneuver him into a vulnerable position and escape.
****
Reeves, now the commander of Rory’s body, looked out the dorm window at the full moon. As his body began to jerk, he realized, even in his host’s body, he was still affected by the Lamont curse. He rubbed the bristly stubble on his face, ran to the bathroom, and looked into the mirror. Intense feral eyes stared back at him. He ran his hand through his thickening hair. Soon, he would think like a wolf—attack like a wolf. He wished he had some moon-poppy serum, enough to maintain control of his thinking and keep his savage bloodlust under control. In the midst of his moon-heat, he eased out of the dorm and into the night as his body strengthened and grew hairier. He felt physically powerful yet he had the uncomfortable feeling that he was merely a hostage controlled by devilish whims. No! I can’t let such thoughts drag me down. I’m not just a werewolf intent on mindless killing. I have an agenda.
He became one with the shadows. In the far distance, he heard cars zooming along the freeway, making the silence of the night more ominous and magnifying his driving urge. He ran on. Lusting for blood, he slipped through the shadows and bushes toward the girls’ dorm. Following the fresh female scent, he slipped into the rectangular barracks-like building. Only dim lights came from the hallways. Nothing moved. He entered one of the rooms and looked down at the sole occupant, a slender girl who looked much like Valerie. He caught her face in his hands and kissed her lightly. Before she could completely wake up, he ripped out her throat. It was so easy. He felt alive, energized, and ready to start on the Lamonts.
****
Werewolf Hugh had almost caught up to Valerie and the young alpha when he caught the familiar, musty, acrid odor of a third wolf. With his intensified wolf-hearing, he heard claws scratching against stone. He raised his hackles and prepared for battle as a werewolf leapt from a boulder down on top of him. The black werewolf was half- morphed, and his features were undistinguishable, but Hugh suspected by the musty scent and the furiousness of the attack that it was his half-brother Reeves. He whirled as the weight of his attacker landed on his back. Claws and fangs sank into his flesh. Spinning and bucking, he used the weight of the wolf hurling through the air to unlock the painful grip on his flesh. As he threw the black wolf off, Hugh felt blood spurt through his fur. Growling, he circled for the counterattack. He charged what he suspected was Were-Reeves and clamped his fangs into his shoulder. When the hairy flesh tore free, the killer werewolf retreated and escaped into the night. Should I follow and kill him?
But could I live with it? Damon still had nightmares about ripping out Reeves’ throat years ago. Hugh sighed. And what would the angel who resurrected me think if I murdered my own half-brother? Besides, what good would it do, he’d only rise again?
Hugh shuddered, recalling the violent way Reeves had killed him in his other life. While in the vulnerable state of morphing, Reeves, had leapt at him, locked sharp fangs onto his throat, and sucked the life out of him. But this time the coward hadn’t caught him in a morphing state and their battle was a draw. The angel had told him that, in his new existence, he was on an equal level with his brothers. With gratitude surging through him, he now accepted it as true. But what had he accomplished? Even though he’d defended himself skillfully, the delay had allowed Valerie and the young alpha to disappear. Hugh’s mood darkened and he dropped his head in shame and disgust. He’d saved himself, but failed to keep his vulnerable niece safe.
****
Valerie shivered. Earlier she’d smelled the scent of more than one wolf behind her. Was this alpha traveling with his pack or were renegade wolves on her tail? Based on his actions the night before, she preferred to face one amorous wolf than a pack.
She watched him. What the heck is the young alpha doing now? He’d start toward her and then retreat. He played his come-hither-back off-game like the alpha that he was. But what is he up to? After he repeated the process several times, it became obvious he wanted her to follow him. Does he think I’m nuts? As though they had a mind of their own, her paws crept forward. With the potential danger of unfriendly wolves tracking her, she followed the young wolf, uncertain if she was setting her trap to escape, or if she was actually losing her power to this striking alpha.
When he stopped and gestured with his muzzle, she joined him and they loped side-by-side. With nudges and gentle nips he herded her into a darkened cave and then out into a moonlit circle of boulders with no break in their rocky wall. It was a ceiling-less courtyard to the stony wolf’s den. The bright full moon glared down at them as if waiting to witness her fate. Dear God, I’m trapped by this daunting and dashing alpha’s hypnotizing eyes. She heard his breathing accelerate. Terrified, yet intrigued, she inhaled his pheromones of lustful excitement. His low, guttural rumble warned that he could barely contain his need. Then the weight and heat of him was on her. She fought waves of desire. His muscles flexed against her as he nudged her into position. Then she was lost to his alpha power, and the brightness of the avenging full moon.
****
Hours later, in the golden tangerine glow of dawn, Valerie glanced down and gasped.
She and the alpha wolf were entwined and morphing into human forms. Terrified and at awe, she tightened her hold on him as their nude bodies jerked and muscles twitched. She swallowed as he pressed his nude body even closer against hers. The unnerving closeness eased her painful spasms but not her internal turmoil. Eyes wide, she stared at the magnificent, now human, male glistening with sweat. He was gorgeous. Her breath caught—and there was something familiar about his splendid body, his smooth tanned flesh. A brief flash of excitement tangled with fear soared through her as she looked up into his face. “Brian!” Dear God, this magnificent alpha is not just a wolf. He’s a werewolf! And our new gardener! What have I done?
His thigh muscles tightened against hers. Valerie gasped at the crack of static electricity.
Brian’s face paled. Then his e
yes twinkled and a grin played at his lips. “Valerie!”
Fighting the strong physical attraction raging between them, she shoved at his chest and tried to escape his powerful arms. “Let me go.”
He tightened his hold. “Not yet. We have things to settle first. You’re a she-wolf. So what was that yesterday afternoon about one of us smelling like a dog?”
“It was something my uncle said. And he was partly right.”
Brian shook his head. “That doesn’t clear it up for me. I need more.”
She stared deeper into his eyes, measuring. Had the cruel and violent Reeves, also known as Lazar, morphed into Brian? Wouldn’t I already be dead if he had?
Before she had a chance to duck away, he brushed a lock of hair from her brow and kissed her temple. “I’m glad you’re the she-wolf. I understand now why I felt such a strong connection with you.”
His kiss and the husky tenderness in his voice touched her. She was glad he was the wolf as well, but— “Forgive me,” she said, a little breathlessly, “but masquerading as a normal person is exhausting enough. But connecting with another werewolf is a mind-blowing, unfamiliar game and I don’t know the rules.”
“I don’t think there are any rules,” he said. “So let’s just make them up as we go along.” Several heartbeats of silence passed. “I guess neither of us chose our lot in life, but whatever the Lord dealt to us, it is up to us to handle it.”
She nodded. “I like your positive attitude, but it’s easier said than done.”
He laughed. “Agreed. But I think we’re up to it. I think we work well as a team.”
“I don’t recall joining a team.”
“Do you remember last night?”
She didn’t remember much except undulating, writhing, and being totally willing. And the climax…oh God… the climax had totally blown her mind away.
She inhaled. Much of her intensity resulted from the steady, persistent suppression of her reckless impulses. But last night she feared she’d suppressed nothing.
“Maybe if we join forces the burden of dual natures won’t be quite so hard on either of us. I don’t know about, you but I need a friend.”
“But can I trust you? It’s pretty obvious you have hidden secrets and agendas.”
But how could she fault him? Wasn’t she holding a mirror up to herself as well? Her family’s secrets and the mystery of the graves in the rear yard had always made her miserable. Would he sense that? Although her nerves were taut, it seemed the extra tension increased her desire for a man she should consider forbidden.
Brian’s laugh came out a snort. “You hit the problem between us right on. From the shocking revelations we unwittingly exposed to each other, it’s apparent we both have family histories, desires, and passions we want to keep buried from the world.”
She couldn’t deny it. And now one more person knew. Part of it, anyway. Could he guess she feared her reckless side and hated when her inner wildness spilled out?
Up until last night she’d buried her passions and desire in layers of relentless control. Even now, in her fantasy, she imagined wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him breathless. She would respond to his lips, the low murmurs between them and the hard, hot climaxes. “Exactly what happened between us last night?” The day was heating up and the incessantly hot July wind electrified her nerve-endings, making her edgy and the air itself seemed alive, dangerous. “Well, are you going to tell me?” Her patience was shredding.
“Sure. We were great together, like our mating was destined to be.”
“Mating,” she screamed. “Oh my God.”
Brian gathered her in his arms. “I didn’t mean to creep you out.”
She pushed against his chest. “You did.”
“It was all good. I could show you a recap.”
She pushed harder against his chest. “No! Definitely no.”
He let her go and shrugged, looking hurt. Sympathy coursed through her, and she reached up to trace his jaw line. “Look, I didn’t intend to hurt you, but thoughts of mating and our sexual gyrations isn’t something I can handle right now. And probably never.”
“Okay, I get it.” He gathered her into his arms and kissed her forehead.
Their nude bodies connected again and, in spite of her resolve to end this craziness, her body reacted. Desire propelled her forward like a runaway semi. Its strength and an indefinable something beyond and more powerful than basic need carried her along toward insanity.
When Brian stroked her hair and looked into her eyes, she entwined her arms around his neck and drew him closer. His heat flowed into her like hot oil and she knew the hunger she felt had been rekindled in him. She fixed her gaze on his lips. They parted slightly, half lupine, half man. She lifted her head, offering what they both desperately wanted.
He didn't move. Brian's face was a sculpture of strong angles and planes. He let out an agonized groan that sounded more like a howl. Then he bent and captured her lips in a gentle taking.
The tip of Brian's tongue traced her lower lip with maddening slowness, sending sensations racing through her. She moaned, and he covered her mouth again. She tasted his feral, oddly sweet flavor, like dew-fresh grass.
His body tensed. He kissed her hard and hot. Brian's fire liquefied her limbs until she could only cling to him. His hands caressed her back, catapulting her into a world of warm, delicious madness. She wanted more, so much more.
Suddenly Brian’s shoulders stiffened. He gently untangled her arms from his neck. “Look, I’m going against my natural instincts here. But if we do this as scrambled beings, we may lose the chance for the kind of normal life the discovery of your Dad’s serum will provide." His voice was ragged.
Valerie’s breath caught. “You know about the lab and the search for a cure? Is that what brought you here? Made you hit on me? Was your seduction all part of your plan to find out the research status and worm your way into getting one of the first doses?”
He frowned. “Are you deft? If you remember, you approached me first and primed me with lemonade, turkey sandwiches, and your inescapable flirtatious charm.”
“I thought you were a regular guy.”
“And I thought you were a regular girl. But to be honest, I did come here to get in on the cure, but my attraction to you was separate and unplanned.”
She rolled her eyes. “Right. I want to go home. Now!”
He stood in one fluid motion and extended a hand to her. Valerie ignored his offer, rose under her own power, and quickly stepped away from him.
“Come on, Valerie, don’t blow our budding friendship. We need each other.”
“In your dreams, Wolfman.”
He lowered his eyes and looked desperately sad and rejected. Then he shrugged and reached for her arm. “At least let me see you home safely.”
She shook her head. “I thought you liked your job. If Dad’s sees us together nude, your work here is history.”
“I have a stash of clothes in the cave. We’ll be fine.”
****
The only thing that fit her was a long, red flannel shirt with tails. He put on his regular work clothes—tight jeans—and draped a T-shirt over a beautifully tanned shoulder. Somehow, being dressed made her feel less vulnerable and more inclined to accept the friendship he’d offered. That is, if she ignored the enticing feral scent wafting from the shirt he’d wrapped around her. “Okay, if we’re going to be friends, what’s your story? Who put the curse on you?”
“I don’t know my history or why, when the moon is full, I turn into a werewolf. I just know as an infant I was abandoned in the wilds of the California desert near Trona to die. I was a half-starved, shivering cub when wolves took me into their lair. They raised me as one of them until Momma Maggie caught me in her snare.”
Valerie frowned. “You’re kidding, right?”
He raked his midnight-black hair with taunt fingers. “That’s one reason why I’ve never told anyone. Who’d believe me? Maggie did, onl
y because when she caught me in her netted-trap, I was half morphed—part boy, part wolf.”
In spite of herself, Valerie started to believe him. If true, it would explain so much—like why he’d made his home in a cave. “How old were you when she captured you?”
“She said I was probably about seven. It’s close enough for me.”
“You seem bright and educated. Did you go to school?”
He nodded. “She gave me her deceased son’s name, Brian Jones, and enrolled me in school with a phony birth certificate. Later, I used the library computer and went to SBVC junior college online. Got my AA in animal husbandry. I’d like to be a vet someday.”
What he’d accomplished coming from a background of desertion and poverty was phenomenal, and she felt a warm outpouring of appreciation for who he was and who he’d become. “Do you ever feel like hunting down the horrible people who abandoned you and tearing out their throats?”
An amused half smile played on his lips as though he’d just learned something unexpected about her. “No. Fear drives people to do stupid things. Momma Maggie said forgiving is the best revenge because lingering anger eats up the unforgiving soul.”
“You really loved Momma Maggie, didn’t you?”
“As much as I’ve ever loved anyone.”
What was that supposed to mean? Brian puzzled her. She heard no violence or revenge in his words or tone, yet he had a right to be angry. As they neared the mansion, she had to decide whether to tell Dad the truth about Brian being a werewolf. If she did, it would force Dad to take action. How sure was she that Reeves hadn’t morphed into Brian? She looked up into Brian’s kind, earth–brown eyes and decided she was very sure.
As they rounded the curve, she spied her dad, mom, and Uncle Hugh running toward them. “Let me do the talking,” she whispered.
