Falling for a Wolf Box Set

by Mac Flynn

  I wasn't scared of heights, but I was scared of gravity. The metal sheeting was slick and I wormed my way up the peak. In a moment I peeked over the edge and saw Adam wrestling with his foot.

  I gave him a shaky smile and inched my way over the peak down to him. "It's okay, Adam. Just stop moving and I can help."

  I reached him and must have startled him because he suddenly stopped struggling and whipped his head to me. His eyes were wide and feral, and he bared his teeth in a hideous snarl. Saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth, and his hands were coated with blood from his trapped foot. My eyes widened and I cringed away from his monstrous look. My terror reflected in his large eyes and for a moment I wondered if he would lunge at me.

  Adam's face fell and he blinked. The madness in his eyes deserted him, leaving him bloodied and both frightened and ashamed. He clutched his face in one hand and his body shook like a leaf in a tornado. His voice was a choked whisper. "You need to stay away from me."

  I frowned and nodded my head at his trapped foot. "Not while you're still trapped. Let's see if I can get that metal off your foot." I slid down beside him and grasped the edge of the closest sheet. "I'm going to lift this and you pull your foot out, okay?" He dropped his hand and nodded. "All right, on three. One, two, three!" I lifted the sheet up as far as I could manage and Adam pulled himself up the incline of the roof. His foot slipped from the hole and out from beneath the other sheet. He was free, but his let was roughed up. His socks were cut through and blood poured from the thin wounds.

  I climbed backwards to sit beside him. I rubbed his shoulder and leaned forward to catch his eye. "You okay?" I asked him.

  There was a small, shaky smile on his pale lips, and the color was drained from his face. "I'm fine, and I'm. . .I'm sorry for my behavior. I've had some bad experiences with traps, and I guess the memories made me panic," he apologized.

  I smiled back at him. "How about we psychoanalyze your past experiences on my couch? It's not very comfortable, but it beats sitting up here."

  Adam chuckled and gave a nod. "That's the best idea I've heard in a very long time."

  I glanced down at his injured foot. "You need me to make a ladder or pull you up the roof?" In this case it was the thought that counted because I had no idea how I'd achieve either suggestion.

  He shook his head. "It's not as bad as it looks and I'm heavier than I look, so I'll get myself down." He slowly scooted himself up the roof and I followed. We reached the bottom of the opposite side and he admired my stacking job. "You're not a bad climber," he commented.

  I shrugged. "Where there's a will there's a way."

  "Agreed, but I don't think the will of your stack will hold my weight, so I'll get down the hard way." He squatted at the edge of the roofing.

  My eyes widened when I realized he meant to jump. "Don't-" Too late. Adam leapt off the roof and dropped the ten feet to the ground. He landed with a little wobble, but was otherwise fine.

  Adam turned back to me and held out his arms. "Jump and I'll catch you," he offered.

  "Oh hell no." I turned around and lowered myself foot-first over the edge of the roof. I waved my foot around and found the top of my precarious pile. First I put one foot and then the other on the stack of miscellaneous objects. It felt sturdy until I leaned my full weight down on it.

  Something slipped because suddenly I felt myself pulled by gravity toward the ground. I fell backward, shut my eyes, and tensed for a short drop with a hard stop. Instead I was greeted by a pair of strong arms that caught me in their soft hold and pulled me against a warm body. I creaked open one eye and found myself looking into the amused face of Adam. He'd caught me and now held me in his arms against his chest.

  I dropped out of his arms, straightened myself, and turned toward my savior. "Thanks. That would have been a bad fall."

  He smiled and bowed his head. "It was my pleasure, but don't make it a habit of putting yourself into danger. It's unbecoming of beautiful women."

  My cheeks glowed like Rudolph's nose and I waved aside his compliment. "Well, I'll be sure to tell beautiful women that when I see them. Now we should get you inside and take a look at that leg."

  Adam shook his head. "It's fine, but your roof isn't and there's going to be-"

  I looped my arm through his and tugged him toward the front of the house. "It is not fine. That foot was bleeding like the time I tried to sew a shirt, and it might take as many stitches to stop it."

  He grinned. "That's very old-fashioned of you to know how to sew."

  I snorted and pulled him inside. He didn't even limp. "If I knew how to sew I wouldn't have bled so much." I pushed him onto the couch and grabbed his leg.

  He laughed and tried to pull away. "I'm ticklish there!"

  "Then hold still or I'll torture you," I warned. The blood on his sock had dried and flakes of the stuff fell onto the floor. I pulled the sock down and froze. There was nothing there but a bit of dried blood stuck to his short, curly dark leg hair. I brushed aside the blood, but was still unable to find any sign of a wound, especially one large enough to cause that much blood. My mouth was agape as my eyes flickered up to his face. "How'd you do this?" I asked him.

  "Do what?" he innocently replied.

  I frowned and shook his leg with one hand. "How'd you make the wound disappear?"

  He shrugged. "I guess it wasn't as bad as you thought."

  I pointed at the sock. "And that?"

  "Maybe I carry around packages of ketchup in my sock," he replied. He pulled his leg from my grasp and pulled his pant leg down to hide the spot. "But enough of work and work-related injuries. What's for lunch?"

  I crossed my arms and glared up at him. "Nothing until you tell me what's going on."

  He picked some of the red stuff from his sock and studied the dry peels. "Well, this is the same color as your roof. The pain must be peeling from the metal sheets and got on my sock. I'm surprised I'm not covered in it."

  "I know blood when I see it, and that's blood. See?" I reached out to dip my hand in the flakes, but he grabbed my wrist.

  Adam's voice was low and his eyes unwaveringly stared into mine. There was a dark glint in them that made me shudder, but I couldn't look away and his hold on my wrist was unbreakable. "Don't do that." I cringed, and the darkness in his eyes faded. He pulled back and released me. The smile returned to his lips, but it was strained. "You never know what's in that old metal stuff. Just let me get changed and I'll be back to fix that hole. That's probably where the squirrel got in, and it needs to be fixed before the storm tonight." I rubbed my wrist as Adam stood and walked around me to the door. He paused in the doorway and behind him the light of the late-morning sun cast his face in shadow. "Maybe we should cancel this whole food arrangement. If you want I can fix your roof for free and leave."

  I stood and shook my head. "A deal's a deal," I insisted.

  He bowed his head. "All right, I'll be back in a bit." He turned and left. I couldn't help but notice the sound of the woods return with his absence.

  Chapter 9

  I stepped closer to the door and set my hand on the back of the chair. My fingers came into contact with a leathery material, and I glanced down and saw it was his coat. In our little argument he'd forgotten to take it. I inspected the old thing and my eyes fell on one of the pockets. Something stuck out. I pinched the material between my fingers and drew it out.

  It was my missing clump of hair.

  My investigative instincts took hold as I tried to comprehend how the clump got into his pocket. The first idea was that somehow it had fallen into his pocket and lain there unbeknownst to him. That idea was thrown out as quickly as it came. He was strange, but not that oblivious to what was in his pockets. Besides, I couldn't believe it somehow slipped from my small pocket to his small pocket. No, he'd swiped it, but why? Again with the questions, and a few answers. Maybe he was hiding a wolf, or maybe he was playing wolf.

  Maybe I needed to stop guessing and just ask him. I
mean, what was he going to do, kill me? It's not like he was a man with an angry streak who went crazy and frothed at the mouth. . .at the. . .slightest. . .incident. Oh, crap. Maybe I was dealing with someone who aimed to put me in his ax-sights. Well, whatever he planned I wouldn't let him get away with it, and I had just the plan. I strode into the kitchen and removed the old can of beans from the cupboard. I might have died in the execution of this diabolical plan, but those were sure to give anybody indigestion for a week. That would give me time to figure out his mental state. With my plan at the ready I waited for his return.

  He didn't show. I waited the rest of the morning and all afternoon, and he didn't come back. I figured he'd at least come to retrieve his coat and then I could confront him about the fur, but there was no sign of him.

  Near sunset dark clouds blotted out what remained of the sun and I smelled rain in the air. I made sure all the wood supplies were under the porch and watched the first few tears of rain as they dropped from the sky. They pattered against the metal roofing and calmed my tense nerves. The drumbeat quickened as more rain fell. The drops changed to sleet. A sweet smell of water wafted over me and drenched me in their refreshing scent. I took a deep breath and screamed.

  On the other side of my car was the largest black bear I'd ever seen. It was nearly as large as a grizzly bear and let out a roar that echoed around my small field. The creature loped toward me at a speed I wouldn't have given it credit for having. I turned and ran for the open door, but my foot caught on the piles of boards. The trip toppled me to the ground, and I rolled over onto my rear. The paws of the bear slammed the ground as it barreled towards me. It opened its mouth and let out another hideous roar that rattled me from head to toe. I raised my arms over my face and prayed for a miracle.

  Some deity heard my internal screams because I heard a shout from the path that led up to Adam's property. I lowered my arms and saw Adam burst from the path and onto the slick mud field that had once been my front yard. The rain beat down on his shirt and pants, and he glistened in the porch light.

  "Chrissy!" he shouted.

  His shouting alerted the bear to competition. It stopped at the edge of the porch and snarled at Adam. Adam curled his lips back and he let loose a growl that made my blood run cold. It was the sound of a wild animal. My blood stopped running when, in the dim light of the porch, I saw Adam's shirt split open. His bare, muscular chest was now a mess of long, soft fur. He held his hands out with fingers sprayed, and the fingers lengthened into long talons ending in sharp points. His face elongated into a snout, and ears sprouted atop his head. There was a tearing sound as his shoes burst open and revealed long, arched wolf feet. He was more wolf than man.

  The bear watched the changes with fangs bared. It backed up and lowered its head when Adam tilted his head back and let loose a haunting, echoing howl. That was the noise I'd heard outside my window last night. The bear growled at Adam, but figured he wasn't worth the fight and turned his attention back on me. I was still a tasty human treat and sat within two yards of it. The beast lunged at me with its teeth open to bite the life out of me.

  The sharp fangs clamped down on my traitorous foot. The fire of pain swept up my leg and I screamed in agony. Adam roared and leapt across the ten-yard gap between the bear and himself. He landed on the rear of the bear just off the porch. The shock of the collision loosened the teeth of the bear, but when the pair rolled away from me I was dragged a yard with them before the bear released its hold on my leg. My blood ran down the porch as they tumbled down the muddy driveway. Fur, fists, claws and teeth flew, clamped and bit as they grappled in paw-to-paw combat.

  I crawled to the edge of the porch and ignored the torrential downpour on my head as my eyes remained glued to the fight. Mud flew in all directions as they each tried to get a grip on the slippery ground. The storm of wind and rain raged around them in perfect harmony.

  The rhythm was broken when Adam managed to slip his way beneath the bear and lift the beast over his head. The bear clawed at the air and bawled like a baby. Adam flung the bear over my car and the beast landed near the pond. It picked itself up and turned short, fuzzy tail toward the woods. It ran off, and the last I heard it was still bawling for its mother.

  Adam turned to me and his eyes glowed yellow in the dark. I gasped and grasped the porch post near at hand. My intention was to run into the house, but my leg buckled beneath me. The wet, slippery post slipped from my grasp and I toppled face-first to the ground. I looked up and saw Adam march toward me. My eyes fell on the car. It was unlocked, but I could hide in there. I clutched my bleeding leg and half-hopped, half-crawled toward the car.

  Adam sprinted forward and blocked my path. I looked up into his furry face and my mouth dropped open as he reverted back to his human form. The fur melted back into his body and his muscles shrank. His feet dropped a half-dozen shoe sizes and in a moment he was human, at least in form.

  He knelt in front of me and studied me. "Are you all right?"

  I scuttled back and held up two fingers to make a cross. "S-stay back!"

  He smiled. "That works on vampires," he reminded me.

  I didn't drop my only defense, even if it didn't work. "Then pretend your a vampire and stay back!" I insisted.

  Adam stepped a little closer, and I was loathe to move back because I'd have to drop my fingers. He held out his hand. "I know we've had our differences, but I want you to trust me. I won't hurt you."

  I scowled at him. "Maybe you just want to tenderize me," I countered.

  He smiled. "If I wanted to hurt you, don't you think I would have killed you already?"

  "I don't know. You're the devious wolf mastermind here. Maybe you're saving me for dessert after you've had some of the neighbors, or maybe you're all hungry from that fight with the bear," I quipped.

  He sighed and dropped his hand. His arm lay across his bent knee and his glowing eyes stared into mine. "Christina, I swear on all the companionship we've had together that I will not harm you."

  I opened my mouth for some witty comment, but realized that was probably the deepest, most binding promise he could make between two near-strangers. What was his word to me? Not much since I didn't know him that well, and less since I now knew he was a monster. The only thing we had to bind us was our shared time together.

  I scrutinized his face and didn't see any signs of homicidal intent. Then again, I hadn't been around that many-um, things. "If you want me to trust you than you're going to have to answer some questions," I told him.

  He smiled. "Shoot."

  "What are you?" I questioned him.

  His smile faltered. "That would take a while to explain."

  I glanced between his feet and the paw prints in the mud behind him. "You were attacked by a werewolf and are now cursed to roam the world as one."

  He chuckled. "That easy to guess?"

  I snorted. "Someone who can change into a wolf-thingy and back into a man? Yeah, not too hard to guess. How'd you get this way?"

  "That's why it would take a while to explain."

  "I've got time."

  "Yes, and you've got your clothes soaked by the mud and a large gash in your leg. Why don't we get you inside and I'll tell you around a warm, crackling fire?" he suggested.

  His picture sounded really nice about then, especially when I shifted atop the mud and cringed when my pants squished deeper into the ground. My hair clung to my head and my leg hurt like hell. "I guess, but any funny stuff and I'll do more than shoot questions at you."

  He offered me his hand again and his eyes twinkled with mischief. "I'll take that chance." I grasped his hand and he pulled me up so fast I tripped over the uneven mud and fell into him. My hands pressed against his chest and my cheeks blushed a crimson red. "Have I ever told you you're a little clumsy?" he teased.

  I rolled my eyes. "No, but don't remind me," I grumbled.

  "If I can't remind you then I should carry you." He swept me into his arms and pressed me against his shir
t.

  "Let me go!" I yelped. I kicked and pushed away from him, but he held me tight.

  He also evilly chuckled. "Not until we're safely in the cabin and the worst thing you can trip over is a rug."

  Chapter 10

  He carried me back to my house and didn't put me down until we reached the couch. I scowled at him, but he turned his back on me and fiddled with the fireplace while my leg burned. "You're impossible, you know that?"

  "I've been told my existence is very impossible many times," he commented without turning around.

  "Is your being a werewolf some sort of a curse for you being an ass?" I quipped. He paused in his crumpling of newspaper and his shoulders tensed. That's when I realized this was a touchy topic. "I didn't mean it the way it came out."

  He shook his head and resumed his work. "It's fine. I also call it a curse, but what I did to deserve it I haven't figured out. Let's just call it fate." He blew on the pile he'd made of newspaper and small sticks, and the fire jumped to life. He turned and walked on his knees back to the couch. "Now let's take a look at that wound. You'll need some bandages and-"

  I pulled my wounded leg away from him and narrowed my eyes. "Uh-huh, you promised to answer my question," I reminded him.

  He sighed, dropped his hands, and plopped himself on the other end of the couch to give some space between us. I noticed he averted his eyes from me. "How old do you think I am?" he asked me.

  I looked him up and down, and shrugged. "Thirty-five?" I guessed.

  He chuckled. "Add another two hundred years to that count and you wouldn't be too far off, though it's been so long even I can't recall the exact year."

  My eyes widened. "You're kidding, right?"

  He shook his head. "No. I was born some time in the latter half of the seventeenth century. Maybe I was born the same time as this country, but I can't be sure. I came from a family of well-to-do merchants in Boston. We bought, sold and traded goods from Caribbean all the way to the East Indies. I sometime journeyed on the ships, we had a half dozen in our fleet, and on one of the journeys we happen to land on a deserted island in the Caribbean. At least, we thought it was deserted." He ran a hand through his hair and shuddered.