Chapter Two
“That you, Nathaniel?” Darik casually shouted at the sound of the closing front door.
The questioned didn’t answer, his mind on what he’d just done. He dropped the keys into the hand-carved wooden bowl on the table just inside the Midtown two-bedroom flat he shared with Eli. Strolling into the well-decorated living room, he nodded to his roommate and their guest, two of his pack members. The balcony door opened and Dontae, the fourth and final member, walked in with a look that said he knew things. But the truth was Dontae was naturally suspicious ever since Catherine.
All three werewolves stared at their friend, the new arrival, their nostrils flaring at his impossible to ignore stench.
Oh yeah.
Well there goes lying about where I’ve been.
From where Eli sat on their couch, he demanded, “Why do you smell like murder?”
Nathaniel exhaled deeply and walked behind the sleek bar to reach for Lagavullin scotch among the many high-end liquor bottles stored below. He raked strong fingers through his dark hair, popped the top off the bottle with his other hand, and ignored the cork-cap rolling toward the end of the bar where it hovered. Very aware they were waiting for an answer, he poured a hefty amount into a sleek, clear rocks-glass. “What can I say? The world is shy one disgusting human being as of tonight.”
As Darik scratched his beard, he exchanged looks with Eli. They turned to include Dontae who stood above them, still by the glass balcony door. Nathaniel glanced over. Dontae’s expression was grave and his returned glance said he was not happy with this information. How could he be?
Eli, the wolf closest to Nathaniel, shot up off the couch and approached his roommate. “What did you do?”
Green eyes stayed locked on amber liquid as he brought the glass to his lips. “Nothing you wouldn’t have.”
“Let me be the judge of that.” Eli grabbed the bottle. “Shit. Hand me a glass.”
Nathaniel reached for one, dropping it onto the counter with a thud. Images of her sobbing on the ground with that monster on top of her flashed before him. He grimaced and took another sip to make it go away. Why hadn’t I been paying closer attention? “I stopped a rape.”
“Oh, well, you’re right. I would’ve done that, but…” he trailed off, not wanting to be the one to introduce the obvious, the thing they were all worried about.
Being discovered for what they really were.
Darik shuffled his long limbs on the ottoman. “Pour me another one, too.”
Dontae said nothing.
They were all dressed in suits as all four had been out that night, agreeing to meet back here for a last nightcap if they didn’t find anyone interesting with whom to spend a few hours. That they were all here was a little annoying, for several reasons, but at least Nathaniel didn’t have to explain the situation more than once. And explaining he had to do. He knew this. They were civilized. They didn’t take human lives unless absolutely necessary, which it rarely ever was. So why did he smell like murder?
He walked to the center of the room. There was a kitchen off to the side hidden by a large white screen they’d installed for design and appealing use of space. Recessed lighting had been added into the entire flat after moving in, as well. The bathroom and kitchen sinks were refitted with high-end faucets and drains, as were the two showers and bathtubs. Stone tile replaced carpets. The only thing that was wanting was a fireplace, which Eli too often reminded Nathaniel he wished they had. But what could be done? They couldn’t install a chimney in a tenth floor flat in a twenty-four-floor high-rise Downtown no matter how good they were at their jobs.
The four naturally nocturnal creatures were architects by day. Together they ran a firm, which employed no one but them. It protected them to keep the business small with the strange hours they often kept. Some things in their line of work–meetings with contractors, plumbers, electricians, the city–couldn’t all be done at night by any means, since everyone they worked with was human. Kept normal hours. Might ask questions. Spread rumors. But with a small team of only them, they were able to take at least one day a week to sleep all day long, and let their wolves reset in the way that felt best. Sometimes more than one, if they felt like slacking off. The pleasures of being your own boss…
Darik leaned forward with a gleam in his blue eyes. “Go on.”
“Don’t get too excited, Darik,” Nathaniel frowned. “I did what I had to do. Nothing more.”
Bored with his night’s lack of adventure, Darik wasn’t easily dissuaded. “Come on. Give me some details, Nate. It’s not every day we get to take someone out.”
Dontae growled, causing all heads to turn, “Darik, if we let you, you’d kill a man for cutting you off in traffic. Put your leash back on.”
Eli looked to Nathaniel. “What happened?”
“There was a woman. She was walking by herself. Didn’t see the guy coming. If I hadn’t been there, she would have been…hurt.” Nathaniel downed his glass, thinking, if I’d have just looked up a few moments earlier...
Eli opened his mouth to speak but Dontae interrupted with authority, “What I don’t understand is why you had to kill him.”
All eyes locked on Nathaniel for an answer. It was the question of the century, wasn’t it? He’d been asking himself that ever since he’d literally shredded the guy’s arteries.
Eli ventured, “You’ve stopped people from doing shitty things before…”
“…We all have,” Darik overlapped.
Dontae finished, “But we don’t murder them.”
Green eyes flashed around the room and his fist closed, breaking the glass in his hands. “You think I don’t know that? That I have to be told like some cub?” Blood dripped onto the stone by his feet.
Eli rubbed his head; the short shave was often where he found his comfort. “Alright. Easy, boy. We’re just a little surprised, and worried about you. About all of us.” He threw a clean, white bar towel to his buddy.
Darik rose to throw the glass away. He held out his hand and Nathaniel gave it to him, impatient at the whole night. “Give me the towel for a second.” Nathaniel handed it to him and shook his head as Darik wiped up his blood. “I got it, buddy. Don’t look so bummed.” He handed it back so Nathaniel could wrap his nasty wound up.
As Darik brought the wet broken glass to the kitchen, Dontae asked, “What did you do with the body?”
Remembering, Nathaniel dropped his head and closed his eyes, blocking out the visual. “I left it there.”
“YOU WHAT?” Dontae shouted.
Nathaniel shrugged heavy shoulders. “What was I supposed to do, get caught carrying a carcass to the water? Even if I was successful the body would be found eventually and it’d be obvious an animal did it. If an animal killed the guy, what’d the animal do then, try to hide the body in the fucking Bay? Smart animal.”
Darik walked back into the living room, processing out loud, “Right. An animal would just leave it there and not give a fuck.”
“Well, I give a fuck.”
“Yeah. Wow. So now what?”
“Let’s wait for the news and find out,” Eli muttered as he handed Nathaniel a fresh, full glass. “Because it’s sure as hell going to be on there.”
“This is why we don’t kill,” Dontae said, gravely.
Nathaniel dropped onto the couch and took a generous gulp, not flinching as the heat hit his throat. “Dontae. Enough.”
“Are your prints anywhere?” he asked. “What about cameras?”
Nathaniel looked at him. “No cameras. I checked before I shifted. I’m not an idiot.”
“What about the girl?”
“She’s not a girl. She’s a woman,” Nathaniel corrected him, aware of the immediately exchanged glances around him. He rose up. “Look, I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” He downed the scotch and laid the glass on the elegant coffee table. As he passed Eli, he received a supportive swat on the shoulder. It was much needed, especially with Dontae looking at
him like he’d never been more disappointed in anyone.
Darik called to his back, “We’ll know more tomorrow.”
“Yeah.”
Walking down the short hallway to his room, he heard Darik say, not quietly enough, “What the hell was that about the woman thing?”
Dontae agreed, “Exactly.”
But Eli assured them, “Don’t worry. Nathaniel’s too smart to let a woman get under his skin. He just likes to play hero. We all do.”
Nathaniel closed his bedroom door knowing there was more to it than that. He’d felt something when he’d locked eyes with the brunette who was clearly having a bad night in the club. His wolf had caught sight of the base of her panties peeking out when she’d bent over, and then the full back of them as her dress slid all the way to her waist, but when she’d corrected it and turned around, something hit him. First, she was adorable with her hair all a mess and she unaware of it. Second, those eyes of hers, he felt like he’d looked into them before. Something snapped inside of him like he’d found something. And when she’d held his stare that feeling only got worse.
He’d left to escape it. He’d run, but then found himself telling his driver to go home for the night, to take a cab and leave the sedan with him so that he could secretly follow her home and find out where she lived, unencumbered with having to explain why he was stalking someone. But then she’d taken her drunk friend home instead and had naively walked home. There were no cabs downtown at that time of night. She should have known it was dangerous, and called someone. He’d considered offering her a lift, but that would have looked too obvious. She would have known he’d stalked her, and that couldn’t happen. So, distracted he’d stared down at the keys trying to will himself to turn the car on and go. He blocked everything out since he was trying to force himself to do something he didn’t want to. When he’d looked up, she was gone with the sounds of a struggle arresting his heightened aural senses. Swearing at himself for not paying attention, he’d rushed to save her, and when he’d gotten his teeth into the guy’s neck, the sight of his near-flaccid penis hanging out of his dirty jeans incensed him. The idea that this vial human being was about to hurt her and not only that but take what was his, he couldn’t stop himself from killing the sonofabitch.
Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, he heard Darik and Dontae go home. A few moments later, a knock came on his door.
“Come in.”
Eli walked into the dark room and didn’t bother to switch on the lamp. They could both see easily in the dark, and from the look on his face what he was about to say didn’t need more light on it. He stood by the wall with the sixty-inch flat screen T.V. set and asked, “You wanna tell me what happened, now that they’re gone?”
Nathaniel rose up on his elbows and looked at his best friend. “For a minute I thought you wanted to have a sleep over.”
Eli grinned, “Who says I don’t?” but the smile stopped at his brown eyes, now glowing in the darkness. Here he didn’t have to hide his supernatural qualities as they did out in public.
“When was the last time you killed someone?”
Eli stared at him. “Never have. I thought you knew that.” They’d been friends for eleven years, since they were eighteen, but they’d never talked about this subject.
“No.” He sat all the way up, his shoulders heavy. “I didn’t.”
“What about you?” Eli asked.
“Never mind.”
Eli nodded, rubbing his closely shaved head as he glanced out the window at the New York skyline before meeting Nathaniel’s waiting gaze. “Are you gonna make me torture it out of you?”
Nathaniel smiled a little. “I’d like to see that.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” smirked Eli. “Seriously. What’s up with the woman?”
“She’s safe now.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Nathaniel exhaled. “I know. Look, I fucked up. I won’t see her again.”
Eli’s eyebrows rose. “Again?”
Backed into a corner of his own making, Nathaniel confessed everything in the way guys do, with as little detail as possible but covering all the major points. Eli watched and listened, reacting often, as was his way. There was nothing subtle about Eli, you always knew what he was thinking because he wore it on his face. Nathaniel was the opposite, but he wanted to get this off his chest. “She sparked something in me, Eli. It’s not normal. I couldn’t stop myself. That he was going to do what he was going to do, he had to die.”
“What’s her name?” Eli asked.
Nathaniel stared at him. “Michelle. Michelle Nero.”
Eli nodded. “Nice name. Well, you know what we’re going to do tomorrow?”
Foreboding hit him as he sensed no good was going to come from that question. “Watch the news and see what they come up with?”
“Go see this Michelle Nero.”
Nathaniel stared, stunned. “What?”
“You have a girl…excuse me, a woman, hit you this hard to the point where you’d kill a guy who tried to hurt her? You don’t let that one go.”
The dancing eyes of his friend didn’t take away the shock. In fact, they added to it. “Are you fucking kidding me? I can’t go see her. She’s dangerous. And why are you coming?”
Eli headed to the door, chuckling. “Because I gotta see this chick, dumbass. I’ll set the alarm for noon.” He opened the door and turned with a humorously delicate wave of his fingers. “Sleep tight, superhero.” Then he was gone.
Nathaniel got out of bed and walked to the window, staring out at the city. “Fuck,” he muttered, shaking his head.
Chapter Three
Michelle woke up on the floor by her front door at 10:15 a.m. At first she didn’t know why she was there or why her body ached so badly, but then it came flooding back to her. Her familiar ringtone had awoken her. It sounded far away like in a dream. She stared into her apartment at the red sofa, the Ikea lamp and coffee table, the kitchen farther back that had a sink full of dirty dishes packed so high she could see it from here.
She got up to get her purse and remembered she’d left it behind. The ringing stopped and then started again and she turned and stared at the door, realizing it was coming from the other side. With a throbbing heart, she put her ear to the door and then peeked through the peephole to see if someone was standing outside. “Hello?” she called through the wood. No response came back.
Running into the kitchen, she grabbed her biggest knife and walked to the door like it might burst open any second. Dragging the chair away from the door, she held the knife at the ready and unlocked the deadbolt. The hallway was empty, but lying on her welcome mat lay her clutch bag.
“What the hell?”
She snatched it up and closed the door quickly, locking it behind her. Everything was inside the purse. No money was missing. Her keys were all there, and since it was Sunday she guessed whoever had left it there hadn’t had a chance to make a copy or anything. Confused and not knowing what to think, she checked her phone to see two missed calls from Rose.
Without listening to the voicemail messages, she called her back.
“Hey, I’m sorry about last night, Chelle.” Rose waited, and misunderstood the silence. “Really, I’m sorry. I know I was more than a little embarrassing. Me and birthdays don’t mix; you know that! I can’t help it. Thank you for keeping me safe. Hey…you there?”
Safe. Someone, or something, had kept Michelle safe last night. Consumed by the memory, she stared at the wall.
After a few awkward seconds, Rose begged, “Can I make it up to you? Brunch? Mimosas? I have the worst hangover and need the best cure ever. The hair of the dog that bit you, they say.”
“Yeah, sure. Where?”
“Really? Great! For a second there, I thought I’d gone too far and you were never going to speak to me again.” Nervous chuckle. “How about Lafayette? It’s in the East Village so you won’t have to go far and–”
“Great. See you in an
hour.” She hung up, not saying goodbye or waiting for a response as she headed for her bathroom. When she caught sight of herself in the mirror, the mascara-stained cheeks, knotted hair and wrinkled dress with a broken strap, she shook her head with gratitude. “It could have been so much worse,” she mumbled to her own reflection. “You’re one lucky chick, Michelle. So many aren’t as fortunate.” With a shake of her head, she turned the shower on and washed all the evidence away.
* * *
An hour later, she walked into the restaurant looking and feeling more like herself. She planned to tell her friend everything, but the words kept getting stuck. It seemed so dark a thing to haunt a beautiful morning with and she didn’t want to think about it anymore. Putting it behind her seemed a more positive, proactive approach, so she smiled extra wide and suggested a toast instead. Rose raised her glass, waiting.
“To both of us getting home safely,” Michelle said.
Rose paused and clinked the champagne flutes together with a shrug. “We could toast to that every day.”
Michelle took a sip. “Mmm.”
“Right?” Rose licked the pulp from her top lip and set the glass down on top of her menu. “What have you got cooked up this week?”
Happy for the change of subject, Michelle took another sip and set her glass down as she answered, “Well, I’ve hired some teens to do a twitter campaign for Moore Designs.”
“That clothing store in the Meatpacking District?”
“Yeah. I figured hiring people who already love to tweet would take the onus off me. By delegating, I can spend my time thinking of new ideas. I’ve got some cooking.”
Rose shook her head. “I hate twitter.”
“There’s a huge community there.”
Werewolves of New York: Nathaniel (Werewolf Shifter Stand-Alone Paranormal Romance Book 1) Page 2
