by Tasha Black
marks covered his face, and bits of torn flesh hung down revealing the cheekbones and teeth underneath.
Ainsley screamed.
In that instant Brian vanished. Ainsley spun around, scanning every corner of the
room, but he was gone. The temperature of the room returned to normal, but the
electricity skittering across her skin told her he might not have gone far.
She rushed to the window he’d been gazing out of. Through it she could see nothing
but darkness.
She lifted the sash and saw movement in the trees.
A giant black wolf.
Erik.
She knew she should be angry with him for spying on her, but it was actually kind of
sweet, and right now, it made her feel safe.
His eyes met hers. Their amber glow was almost hypnotic.
She longed for him to change and come inside.
If he would only come into the house everything would be okay and the universe
would make sense again.
Erik’s rich scent filled her nostrils.
Then his velvety form slipped back into the woods.
She stood by the window of her childhood room, her loneliness echoed in his mournful
howl.
Episode 4
C H A P T E R
1
A insley woke suddenly.
Light poured through the bedroom window. She tried to stretch, but the sheets
entangled her limbs. She hadn’t been able to make herself close the curtain last night.
The idea that Erik was out there somewhere soothed her frazzled nerves. She
remembered lying awake, staring at the stick-ons stars on the ceiling until they’re glow faded to black, thinking sleep would never come.
She must have drifted off at some point.
Ainsley freed herself from the tangled sheets and tried to clear the cobwebs from her head.
Clean house, clean mind.
She stripped the bed and threw the sheets in the washer. After she put on a fresh set, she paused at her bedroom window.
Had Brian really stood here last night?
Grace and her abuela had warned her about a spirit trying to come through the portal
last night. She should call Grace and tell her about what happened. But somehow, in the bright light of the morning sun, it all seemed so unlikely. And it wasn’t like she was really afraid of Brian. He didn’t seem upset with her at all.
Why had he come back?
Ainsley glanced out the window at the spot where she had seen Erik patrolling last
night. There was no trace of him at all. He must be good at covering his tracks.
Could he cover his scent?
He wouldn’t even need to. His scent was all over the house when she came home to
find the back door open. He had come in looking for her.
At least that’s what he told her.
Could Erik have been behind the break-ins?
No. That was ridiculous.
She thought of his kind eyes and his urge to protect her. She thought of the way his
touch sent tiny ripples of excitement coursing through her.
No way. Not him.
Plus his scent was no where near her father’s office.
Who then? Julian?
That had been her first thought, after she caught him snooping. But the more she
considered it, the less sense it made. He was careful, methodical, like Ainsley. He wasn’t the type to trash the whole study looking for something. And, warlock or whatever he
was, Ainsley could not imagine him being so disrespectful to those books.
Which left…no one.
Ainsley sighed and blew a stray lock of hair from her face.
She hadn’t been back in Tarker’s Mills for a week and already she’d had a fling, almost turned into a giant wolf, and discovered that her mom was a witch, and maybe she was
too. She’d reconnected with her high school best friend and her dead high school
boyfriend.
And now, here she was, playing Nancy Drew and the case of the book thief who didn’t
steal anything.
C H A P T E R
2
A quick shower, clean clothes and a strong cup of coffee from the French press brought Ainsley’s focus back. There was a lot happening. But if she could just stick to her goals she would be fine. She wrote them down to make herself feel better:
1)Clean out the house & get it on the market.
2)Seduce Clive Warren.
3)Choose him as alpha.
4)Find out what the hell happened last night and make sure it never happens again.
5)Run at the first opportunity.
Anything that didn’t help her accomplish one of these goals was a time waste and she
had to ignore it.
Immediately, the phone rang.
She checked the caller ID.
Grace Kwan-Cortez.
Like she was psychic.
Wait, Grace actually was kind of psychic.
God, this town was messed up.
Either way, Grace could help her figure out the whole magic thing from last night –
item number four could be off the list by the end of the call.
“Hello.”
“Ainsley, you sound so…calm.”
“Guess what happened last night after you left?” Ainsley didn’t wait for an answer. “I had a visitor.”
“Who?”
“Brian Swinton.”
There was a long silence. Finally Grace spoke.
“I’m going to stop by. Are you at home?”
“Well, yes,” Ainsley spluttered. A visit was the last thing she wanted.
“I’ll see you in a minute.”
Ainsley hung up and headed to the kitchen. She put together a tray with raspberry
lemonade, glasses, and a plate of blueberry scones. She took the tray out to the back section of the wrap-around porch and set it down on the picnic table. Hummingbirds
darted in and out of the trumpet flowers climbing over the white picket fence in back. A rabbit scampered into the rose bushes.
She texted to Grace.
I’m out back.
Ainsley stretched and took in the peaceful scene. She couldn’t deny that no matter
how successful she was, she could never replicate this in New York.
Grace’s footsteps sounded on the front porch and Ainsley looked up to greet her friend as she came around the corner of the house.
“Are you okay?” Grace asked.
“Of course I am,” Ainsley said lightly.
“I don’t mean physically,” Grace said, sitting across from Ainsley and leaning on the table. Concern marred her beautiful face.
“Grace, if you only knew what I’ve lived with all these years…”
She couldn’t tell her. She just couldn’t.
“I know you really liked him, Ainsley. It was really sad what happened to him. Did he speak to you last night?”
Ainsley poured lemonade for each of them and placed scones on little plates. She
would have gladly white-washed the back fence to avoid what was coming.
“He did.”
‘What did he say?”
“I told him that I was sorry. And he told me I’d never done anything to hurt him.”
Grace nodded, like it was old news.
“But then I saw his face. And it was…awful.”
“That’s not his fault, Ainsley.”
“No, that’s not what I mean, Grace. Do you know what actually happened to Brian?”
“He was attacked by a bear,” Grace said.
“Do you believe it?”
“It’s not very common. But there have been bear attacks in Tarker’s Mills over the
years.”
“At that time of year?” Ainsley asked.
“Well, no, usually its in early spring when they’re w
aking up from hibernation.”
“Didn’t you tell me you had to learn how to write police reports to factor in the special nature of the residents of Tarker’s Mills?”
Grace’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly as comprehension dawned.
“Ainsley, are you saying…?”
“Do you know why I left Tarker’s Mills?”
Grace shook her head.
Ainsley sighed.
“I turned for the first time.”
“Were you scared?”
“I didn’t really understand what was happening. First I felt awful and sick. And then it started to happen and I blacked out. I don’t even remember it. And then I woke up, and
…”
“That must have been really scary.”
“That’s not the scary part – not at all.”
Grace looked into her eyes with a calm expression and waited. Damn, she was a
fantastic cop.
“The scary part is that I was with Brian when it happened.”
“How did he react?”
Here we go. This is where I finally lose my only friend.
“We were making out, Grace. We were in the woods making out. And I turned into a
wolf and I killed him.”
Grace didn’t seem fazed by Ainsley’s revelation.
“Do you remember killing him?” she asked, like she was asking Ainsley if she
remembered where she got a cute pair of shoes.
Why wasn’t she freaking out?
“Well, no, I blacked out. But the next day they said he’d been killed by a bear. I could connect the dots. My dad must have hushed it up.”
“Have you done anything violent after other transformations?”
“I haven’t changed since that night.”
Grace stared at her in shock, her poker face finally cracking.
“What do you mean you haven’t changed? I thought you had to change.”
Ainsley instinctively shuddered.
She purposely never thought of those long, painful nights at the full moon when she
sweated and moaned and felt like she had the flu and snake poison at the same time.
She told herself that it was like childbirth. Mothers forgot those nights and that was how they ended up having more children.
And Ainsley had to forget the moon after each month’s torture.
“I don’t have to change,” she said carefully.
“Does it hurt?” Grace asked.
“You have no idea,” Ainsley said simply.
Grace got up from the picnic table. At first, Ainsley thought she meant to leave, but then Grace walked to her side of the table and wrapped Ainsley in a tight embrace.
Neither of them said a word.
Ainsley felt like someone had removed a truck that had been parked on her chest for
ten years.
Finally, Graced pulled back and looked her friend in the eye.
“You didn’t kill anyone, Ainsley.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Of course I can.” Grace waived a dismissive hand in a gesture Ainsley recognized at
once. Her abuela had been right about passing things on to Grace. “Why do you think he wanted to talk to you last night?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I think he came back to do just want he did – to tell you it wasn’t your fault. Doesn’t mean it was a bear, but it could have been. Or something else.”
“Another wolf?”
“Maybe. I’ll pull the file. Maybe there is something in there that will shed some light on things.” Grace said. “In the meantime, the portal will close on its own before too long, but he may come to you again. If he does, don’t be shy – ask him what happened that
night.”
Ainsley grasped her friend’s hand.
“Thank you, Grace. You’ll never know how good it feels to be able to talk about this.”
“I wish you had talked to me sooner.”
Ainsley smiled. The air was warm and fragrant, the birds were singing, and she was
having lemonade with her best friend. Someone who shared all her secrets again.
“Look, the reason I was able to stop by on shift, is that I need to talk to you about the break-ins. And I know you have a lot on your mind, but have you given any thought to
who might be responsible?”
“I was thinking about that this morning. My first thought was Julian, of course.”
“That doesn’t feel right,” Grace said. “He would’t need to trash the place to find what he was looking for. Besides, it doesn’t really seem like his style, does it?”
Ainsley was struck again by how good Grace was at being a cop. But why wouldn’t she
be? Grace had always been the best at just about anything she set he mind to.
“Still,” Grace said. “I’d like to ask him a few questions. I wasn’t able to find him at Thayer House this morning. I’m going to make some inquiries. You let me know if he tries to contact you.”
Ainsley nodded.
“Thank you, Grace. I wish I knew what he’d been looking for, besides me.”
“We’ll get to the bottom of it, Ainsley. I’ve got to run, but let’s get together tonight after my shift.”
“That sounds- ” Ainsley stopped herself, remembering her plan for tonight.
Christ.
Maybe she wasn’t quite ready to tell Grace everything.
“Do you have plans already?”
“Um, yeah. Maybe we can get together tomorrow?”
“Sounds good. Text me.”
Grace was gone.
Ainsley sat on the porch for a long time, looking at the hummingbirds in the trumpet
flowers and trying not to cry.
C H A P T E R
3
A insley roused herself and cleaned up the breakfast things.
If there was one thing this town was good for, it was distracting her from her purpose.
She pulled her list out of her pocket and checked off #4. She had found out what was up with the visit from Brian. Of course it had only brought up a whole host of other
questions, but she was going to ignore all of them, at least for now.
Was it really possible that she hadn’t killed Brian?
If she hadn’t killed him, who had?
It was too much to think about, so she forced herself to look down at the list again.
The first item was cleaning out the house.
She surveyed the dining room.
It was overwhelming.
There were so many memories here. There were the dinners they’d eaten at the
family table, which had belonged to her grandparents. There was the hutch that had
been in her mother’s family since the Civil War. And in the corner there was the little antique desk they’d bought on vacation in Cape May when Ainsley was ten.
And that was just one room.
Thoughts of saving it all for her kids troubled Ainsley. As well as a whisper in the back of her mind that some of these pieces could be worth something.
She realized she was in danger of getting bogged down in the mentality of every
client she had ever moved out of a family home. Sentiment slowed down listings, left
houses too bloated with excess items to stage, and ultimately cost sellers money – all at the expense of stuff they had to get rid of in the end anyway.
The best thing to do was to rip off the bandage.
She tried not to make eye contact with the portrait of her great-grandmother as she
shoved the list back in her pocket and headed into the living room to put the whole house on Neighborly.com.
Everything must go. Some antiques, some sturdy old furniture, rugs, artwork, etc. All free. Stop by today – 2-4pm only.
She hovered over the post button.
This was the right thing to do.
The instant she clicked post, the front door swung open.
Ainsley gasped and turned. Cressida stood silhouetted in the doorway. Her leggy
figure reclined against the doorframe for a second before she strode across the room.
“Connor,” she barked.
“Cressida, what a pleasant surprise.” Polite breeding was so overrated. Ainsley
couldn’t decide whether to slap Cressida or call the police.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Cressida asked?
“I don’t see how it’s any of your business,” Ainsley said, tucking her hair behind her ears and wondering why Cressida would be so interested in how she chose to dispose of her family’s furniture.
“Like hell, it’s none of my business. This is my pack. This is my town. And we’re gonna disappear if you don’t get your shit together.”
So, not about the furniture. Ainsley sighed.
“And what did you do to me the other night?” Cressida demanded. “What was that?”
Ainsley had been wondering about that as well.
“Look, Cressida, I’m really not sure how it works.”
“Do it again.”
Her boldness left Ainsley struggling for a reply.
“Wh-what?”
“You heard what I said. Do it again.”
“I don’t think I can, Cressida.”
“Of course you can, you’re just too lazy or too scared or too stupid. Do it.”
“No. And I’d like for you to leave,” Ainsley stood her ground. But her legs were
trembling.
“I was with Erik last night.”
“What?”
“I. Was. With. Erik. Last. Night.”
“Oh.”
Why did that hurt? Why did she care who Erik was with? She’d made her decision.
Clive was the quickest way out of this town.
Cressida stepped forward and pinned Ainsley to the wall in one motion.
Ainsley could feel Cressida’s pert breasts through her thin camisole. She wasn’t even wearing a bra.
“He wanted to fuck me so bad his cock was the size of my arm before I even touched
him,” she whispered in Ainsley’s ear.
Ainsley’s breath caught. She could smell Erik on Cressida. His lush, masculine scent
was practically oozing out of her pores.
“That’s great, Cressida,” she said as evenly as she could.
“Can you imagine what we were like together?” Cressida whispered again.
Sadly, Ainsley could. The image of slender Cressida wrapped around Erik’s muscular
frame was exciting and ripped her with jealousy at the same time.
