by Michelle Fox
Charlotte tried to talk her wolf down, but animal instinct had taken over. Dylan was a threat, and threats must be dealt with. She’d reached the point of no return; a shift was imminent.
Clamping a hand over her mouth to hide her wolf teeth, Charlotte did the only thing that made sense to her panic-stricken brain, she slammed her knee straight up into Dylan’s groin. He dropped to the ground, hands clutching his crotch, howling in pain.
Stan came rushing over, eyes flashing with anger. "You bitch. I’ll teach you to do that to a man." He reached for her, but she was ready. With a quick thrust of her arm, she swung her purse up and clobbered him in the head. Stan staggered at the impact, but kept coming, his hands finding her neck.
Hair sprouted up and down her arms, legs, and back, making her itch between her shoulder blades. Her wolf was running to the rescue. Terrified they would see her shift, she head butted Stan with all her strength. For good measure, she nailed his crotch too, and then she ran behind some bushes.
Already she’d lost part of her humanity, her spine lengthening and stretching her shirt to its breaking point. The fabric ripped, splitting down her back. She had just enough time to shove her purse deep under one of the bushes before her human body disappeared, consumed entirely by the wolf that now lived inside her. Desperate to get away before anyone saw her, she raced off.
Thankfully, no one spotted her. Even if they had, she was moving so fast she was nothing more than a blur, a streak of darkness no one could identify in the split second it took her to run past them. Humans were stupid slow compared to wolves. Usually she hated it because she had to remind herself to slow down and look human all the time. Just then, though, she was grateful for the preternatural speed.
The business district of Glen Vine quickly gave way to tree-lined roads edged with sparkling blue lakes. Charlotte burrowed into the shadows of a tall pine and worked to catch her breath. She took stock of her situation as she recovered.
She’d have to go back for her purse, but not before she got her wolf under control. Maybe she’d call Tao to go back into town with her. His presence always steadied her wolf, much like Kane had earlier. Besides, she didn’t want to run into Dylan and Stan without back-up.
Decision made, she allowed herself to relax a fraction of an inch. The late fall air smelled heavenly and she inhaled the sweet dustiness of dried leaves along with the scent of water the wind always carried. There were so many lakes in the area that, even though she'd grown up in Glen Vine, Charlotte still hadn’t visited them all. She trotted along, sticking close to the trees running parallel to the road. The occasional car zoomed by, but no one saw her. For one, she blended in fairly well, especially given the dappled shadows the trees cast. Two, no one expected to see a wolf.
But then a car slowed behind her. She didn’t think anything of it at first. Even though tourist season was over, people still sometimes drove through to catch the autumn foliage. They often stopped to take photos, so it wasn’t unusual for a car to pull off to the side of the road.
A horn honked and she startled, but kept walking. It honked again. Car doors opened and closed which caused her to finally glance over her shoulder. What she saw made her heart sink: a battered pick-up truck carrying two men—one blond, the other brunette.
Dylan and Stan.
Just her luck, the road that led to her house would also be the same road Dylan and Stan traveled to work. She should’ve anticipated this. There were only two major roads in the area, and they both led to Traverse City. They hadn’t seen her shift, she was sure of it, or seen what direction she’d run off, so their presence had to be bad timing.
Huffing the werewolf version of swear words under her breath, she darted into the trees, but not before the men squeezed off a few shots. Bullets whined in the air, thudding as they hit trees or burrowed into the ground. Charlotte stretched her body to its limit, pushing hard with her hind legs to increase her speed, but it was too late.
Humans might be slow compared to wolves, but bullets could keep up once the trigger was pulled.
Chapter Five
Kane picked his way through the trees, nostrils flaring as he searched for Charlotte’s scent. "Charlotte, you out here?" he called, only to be answered by silence.
The metallic tang of blood hit his nose and he followed it to an overgrown bush. Recognizing Charlotte’s scent, he kneeled down, peering under the bush. "Charlotte, are you there?"
A soft whine answered him.
"Are you okay?"
She yowled.
"I’ll take that as a no." He wished he could see her. Wolves, he’d learned, relied more on body language than vocals. "I caught the men. They’re in the back of the cruiser. It’s safe to come out."
The underbrush rustled as she stepped out of her hiding spot. Kane sucked in his breath at the blood staining her coat.
"Let me look at it." He leaned down and inspected the wound. "I don’t think the bullet is in there. Looks like a bad graze to me." Straightening, he looked through the woods. "We’re not that far from your house. I can carry you if you want."
Charlotte gave him a dirty look and gamely tried to walk on just three legs. Unable to keep her balance, she set down her injured leg. With a yelp she instantly brought it back up again, tucking it as high up as she could. That caused her to lose her balance completely, and she fell over.
Kane carefully looked away, knowing if she caught him watching, she would be angry. The key to avoiding conflict as a werewolf was to pretend not to see anything. Tao had given him that tip, telling Kane he was staring too much, which wolves marked as aggression. Apparently, he’d made Leo, Tao’s brother, want to punch him.
"Just let me carry you, Char. Better to treat your wound at your house than out here." He lifted both his hands to show they were empty. "I don’t have a first aid kit with me, and those two yahoos who shot you are in my cruiser. We don’t want them to see anything they don’t have to, right?"
Charlotte bowed her head and gave a half-hearted growl. Kane took that as assent and quickly hoisted her up in his arms, grateful for the super strength that came with being a werewolf.
Her house wasn’t too far, maybe a couple hundred feet, and they were in her front yard within moments. Kane didn’t feel any strain from Charlotte’s weight. She felt no heavier than a gallon of milk to his muscles. Setting her down on the porch, he asked, "You have a key hidden out here?"
Charlotte pointed her muzzle toward a flower pot to the side of the front door. Lifting it up, Kane spotted the brass house key underneath. He opened the door, standing aside to let Charlotte go ahead of him. She shuffled into the house, her gait awkward. The smooth wood floor of the house’s foyer did her no favors either. Her nails scrabbled on the floor as she lost her balance yet again.
Kane lunged for her, catching her before she could wipe out. Once she was steady, he let her go. "You okay?"
She huffed at him, her ears back as she slowly made her way forward. Without warning, the smooth floor tripped her up again and before Kane could catch her, she went down with a thud. To his surprise, her body began to shift then. Hair receded and her body became longer as it returned to its human shape.
The first thing Kane noticed was Charlotte’s soft curves. She was lush as a tropical wildflower, her skin radiant and smooth. Her heavy breasts would spill over his palms.
The second thing Kane noticed was she’d caught him staring.
"Damn it, Kane. Stop looking at me like that." She attempted to cover her generous cleavage with one hand, but it was more than even she could handle.
"Sorry," he mumbled directing his gaze to the cathedral ceiling of the foyer. He felt like a heel. Here she was hurt, and he’d ogled her like she was fresh meat, but damn it, she was a beauty.
Somewhere in the house, something whined. Kane cocked his head to the side, listening. "What's that?"
"My dog. He's shut in the laundry room so he doesn't eat the furniture when no one's home." She pointed down the hal
l. "Can you get me the blanket on the couch in the living room?" she asked, her voice a pained gasp.
He rushed past her to do as she asked. The blanket in question was a fleece no-sew deal, and Kane had a vague memory that her mother made them. Or at least she’d donated one to a fundraiser for the station. Handing the blanket to Charlotte, he once again studied the ceiling.
"Where’s your first aid kit?" he asked.
"I’ll be fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Like you said, the bullet isn’t in there. I’m already healing. Look."
He risked peeking down at Charlotte and found she’d covered herself with the blanket. Lifting up a corner, she showed him the top of her thigh. The wound looked much less serious now and seemed smaller than he remembered; although how size changed from one form to the other he wasn’t sure.
"Let me disinfect it at least."
"I can do it," she said, yanking the blanket back over her thigh. She struggled to her feet, balancing on one foot. "Ow."
"What is it?" He offered his arm and she accepted, steadying herself against him.
"I think I twisted my ankle."
"Here, let’s get you to the couch." Kane guided her from the foyer in the large living room.
"This is fine," Charlotte said, indicating a small leather love-seat. She collapsed into it with a sigh.
"Listen, I really think you should disinfect this," Kane said.
She gave him an annoyed look. "I told you. I’m healing already."
"I saw that, but I would prefer to be sure you’re not going to end up with a nasty infection. I don’t think super healing means we’re immune to everything."
"Fine. There’s a first aid kit in the kitchen under the sink."
Kane nodded and went off to find the kit. Grabbing the white plastic case, he returned to where she sat. She tried to take it from him, but he deftly avoided her hand. "Let me do it, Char. I’ve had some medic training."
"I can take care of myself." She crossed her arms and glared at him.
"I know, but let me do this for you. I want to be sure you’re okay." He opened up the antiseptic wipes. "This is going to sting."
Chapter Six
Charlotte hissed as Kane rubbed the wipes up and down her thigh. Damn, did it sting; way worse than the hornets that had gotten her when she was ten. She clenched her teeth and watched Kane as he thoroughly cleaned the wound with the wipes.
"I didn’t know you were a sadist," she said, gritting her teeth.
"Sorry, Char." His dark eyes gleamed with sympathy.
"They fucking shot me," she spat at him. "Is this my life now? I have to watch my back for bullets?"
"They don't know it's you," Kane said, his voice calm and measured. "They think you're a wolf, nothing more."
"That doesn't keep them from killing me or," she waved her hand in the air, "any of us, now does it?"
"They're handcuffed in the backseat of my cruiser. They won't be shooting at anyone any time soon, trust me. You're safe. I promise."
"We'll see. There are too many people like them out here. There'll be someone else stepping up, ready to shoot, if you ask me," she huffed at him. "Are you done yet?" Fighting the urge to kick him, she clenched her hands into fists. Maybe she would sucker punch him instead. Either sounded like a plan. Now that she was a werewolf, she was strong enough to do some damage, too.
"Almost done." He gently slathered on some antibiotic ointment. "What happened back in Glen Vine? I thought you had your wolf under control?"
A low growl rolled up her chest and through her throat, sounding a lot like a really impolite, drawn out burp. "Me, too. But those two idiots cornered me outside and started coming on to me. When they wouldn't back off, my wolf jumped through."
Kane went still and she thought she heard a faint growl from the center of his perfect pecs, but if he was growling, he could control it better than she could. "I wish I'd been there. I would've taken care of them for you."
She shook her head. "The thing is, I can take care of myself. I dealt with them just fine. It was my wolf that caused all the problems. Her, I can't stop."
"Sorry, Char. No one said being a wolf was easy."
"No, they didn't. What 'they,'" she made air quote around the word, " said was that werewolves didn't exist. Guess 'they' don't know jack shit."
"That does appear to be true." He nodded in agreement as he covered her thigh with sterile gauze, securing it in place with the surgical tape in the kit. "There, that should do it."
"Seems like a waste of time to me," she groused. "I’ll be healed by dinnertime."
He shrugged as he put the kit back together and snapped the case shut. "Maybe, but perhaps you won’t have a scar, and you’ll definitely avoid infection."
"I think I’d rather have the scar." The alcohol from the wipes still stung and had gone deep enough into her wound to make her whole thigh throb.
"Suit yourself." He gathered up the antiseptic and gauze wrappers and disappeared into the kitchen. Charlotte couldn’t help but notice his impressive backside and the strength in his stride as he went.
Returning to the living room, Kane said, "I've got your purse in my cruiser. I'll go get it in a sec. Did you want a ride back to your car?"
"No, thanks. Once I heal, I'm going to bike into town." She pointed to the window. "The weather has cleared, and I'd rather not be in the car with those idiots. I might shift in the front seat, you know?"
***
Kane’s phone rang before he could respond to Charlotte. Seeing it was his mom, he dismissed the call, using the feature that would automatically send her a text saying he was in a meeting. The phone fell silent for a moment before ringing again. She’d called him back already.
Knowing she had the time and energy to call him repeatedly from now to eternity, he said, "Sorry. I have to take this." He stepped into the foyer for privacy and with a sigh, answered the phone. "Hey, Mom."
"Is it true?" She was almost squealing, the sound sharp in Kane’s ear.
"Is what true?" The morning’s run-in with Mrs. Harris came to mind. He closed his eyes and silently cursed.
"You’ve found someone! You’re getting married."
Horror filled him at her words. "No, Mom, I’m not. I told Mrs. Harris that, too. Why she won’t listen to me, I don’t know."
"Everything okay?" called out Charlotte. She was leaning forward in the love-seat, craning her neck to look at him in the foyer.
His mom heard her voice. "Is that her? What’s her name? When can I meet her? How serious is it?" The questions poured out of her in rapid succession.
"No, that’s not her. There’s no one to meet," Kane said as patiently as he could.
Charlotte hobbled over to where he stood in the foyer, curiosity bright in her brown eyes. "Are you talking about me?"
Kane shook his head and held up a finger. He had to get his mom off the phone now. The look in Charlotte’s eyes made him nervous. "Listen, I have to go. We’ll talk about this later."
"Why don’t you bring her over for dinner tomorrow night? I’m making your favorite, Cajun bleu burgers."
Kane’s stomach rumbled at that. His mom was a fantastic cook, but he had to be strong and not take the bait. There was no fiancée, and he wouldn’t lead her on. "We’ll see. Work is crazy."
"There’ll be cheesecake for dessert."
Now that just wasn’t fair. His mom’s cheesecake was creamy and thick and almost as good as sex. She also only made it for special occasions, which meant he had it maybe twice a year. Kane kept meaning to learn how to make it for himself, but between work, werewolves, and women he hadn’t found time.
"Luring me with cheesecake? That’s a low blow, Mom."
Charlotte’s eyebrows went up. "Cheesecake? I love cheesecake."
His mom laughed in his ear. "Sweet, delicious cheesecake, creamy as the richest ice cream, is a low blow? You clearly need to get out more, Kane. Try chemo and get back to me."
"You’re rig
ht. Sorry," he said feeling guilty. He hadn’t meant to minimize everything his mom had gone through.
"So I’ll see you for dinner tomorrow night. You and your girlfriend." Before he could protest, she hung up.
Kane stared at his phone, flummoxed.
"Everything okay?"
"Yeah," he said slowly. "I have a gossip problem though."
Charlotte pulled the blanket tight across her chest. "Oh?" Now able to bear some weight on her ankle, she lurched toward the kitchen. "Come have a snack and tell me about it."
"I should really get back to the cruiser," Kane said, thinking he’d like nothing more than to stay. He wanted way more than a snack, though. The idea of peeling that blanket off Charlotte and throwing her onto the nearest bed kept playing through his mind.
"You have time for some coffee, right? It's not like those two assholes are going anywhere." She called from the kitchen.
Kane shrugged. She was right. Let those two degenerates wait and wonder where he was. Maybe next time they would think twice before they played shoot’em-up with a wolf as the target. And he was going to give them both a very stern talking to about no meaning no. Charlotte should've never had to defend herself. The way they'd cornered her was unacceptable and he would make sure they understood that before he released them back onto the streets of Glen Vine.
"I guess there’s no harm in some coffee." He joined her in the kitchen. Even with a blanket wrapped around her and mud streaking her legs, he found her beautiful.
He was so caught up in her that he missed the dog in the room until it almost tripped him. A yellow lab bumped the back of his knee, causing it to buckle. Kane jumped to the side, quickly regaining his balance. "What the..."
The dog wagged his tail and stared at Kane, his ears upright. He was a pale yellow lab, with fur so white it practically gleamed.
"Who is this?" Kane settled into a chair at the small table in the breakfast nook, and extended his hand to the dog, wanting to make friends.
"His name is Midas. He's friendly, but not too bright." Charlotte plugged in the coffee maker. "If I leave him alone in the house, he eats things. Like door knobs, shoes and the feet of furniture."
