Dreams of Darkness

by Eve Langlais

  Adara let out a keening wail. Dammit. He’d forgotten she watched. Logan went to where she sat slumped on the floor in a huddle, hugging her knees. Her body trembled, and when he reached to touch her hand, he found it icy cold.

  But her reaction wasn’t.

  She opened her mouth wide and screamed, a shrill sound he abruptly shut off with his hand against her mouth.

  “Don’t start that,” he said sternly, wanting to wrap his arms around her but knowing she’d probably not react well to that kind of intimacy. “I’m not going to hurt you. In case you didn’t notice, I was the one who took care of the rotting thugs here.”

  Her eyes, a beautiful clear violet color, darted from his face to the dead heaps on the floor and then back. Her breath huffed hotly as she succumbed to panic. She whimpered.

  “Don’t sound like that, honey. You’re safe now.”

  Her eyes darted to the bodies.

  “You don’t need to worry about those zombies anymore. They’re dead. Permanently, this time. Now, I’ll take my hand away if you promise not to scream again. Nod if you agree.” For a second, he could have sworn he saw her eyes flash with annoyance—I am not your honey—but he must have imagined it because she nodded quickly.

  Removing his hand slowly from her lips—lips that he couldn’t help but notice were full and pink—he held himself ready to gag her again, but she stayed quiet and took in a deep, none-too-steady breath.

  “Good girl,” he said.

  “I’m not a girl.” Meant to sound sassy, but it came out breathless and low.

  “I know you’re not. But you are scared. You’ve just had a lot happen. Do you understand who I am?”

  “You’re Logan,” she whispered. “My wolf.”

  Two simple words and yet they made him want to gather her up and run away with her. Protect her. And so much more. However, she still shook in shock. Probably not the best time to get all territorial with her.

  He held her two frigid hands between his own, rubbing her icy skin. “You’re safe now. Can you tell me what happened?” He knew, but he’d found that talking seemed to alleviate fear—that or send a person into a complete shrieking fit like his mother when she’d found out what he was. Not all lycans were born into a loving, knowledgeable family. His mother had run off when she found out the town hottie got her pregnant.

  Turned out, the guy was a dog, literally. Eventually, Logan’s mother returned, mostly because she wasn’t sure how to handle a little boy who was so obviously different.

  “Yeah, I’m your wolf. Which means you know I won’t hurt you.”

  “But those things…” Her gaze strayed from him to the bodies once again.

  He tipped her chin to redirect it. “Don’t look at them. Look at me. Those things are ugly. I’m not.”

  “Says who?” A phrase spoken by rote, and yet it relaxed her a bit. She dropped her gaze to his chest. His bare chest. She licked her lips, a simple flick of her tongue that made Logan feel a tugging in his groin. Totally inappropriate, given the situation.

  “Want to tell me what happened?” Some people preferred to pretend shit didn’t happen when dealing with shock. Pussies. Logan was of the school of thought that liked to address things head-on, refusing to give them power.

  “I came in, and they were waiting for me. One on either side of the door.”

  “They ambushed you?” He couldn’t help a note of incredulity.

  She nodded.

  This wasn’t a random attack. “And they didn’t bite you?”

  “No. Just stared at me with their white eyes, and then they grabbed me and wouldn’t let go.” Adara swallowed. “I think I screamed. Then the wolf came, only the wolf was you, and…” She stopped talking, her eyes once again riveted on a corpse. “What are they?”

  “I don’t suppose you’d believe muggers?” he said, knowing his absurd answer would distract her.

  She shot him a dirty look. “I might be scared, but I’m not stupid. Those…those things weren’t human. You called them rotting ones. And you, you’re not human either. You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?”

  Logan rocked back on his heels and looked at Adara with narrowed eyes. Was she faking not knowing, or was her innocence genuine? “We prefer the term lycanthrope. Lycan for short.”

  “You’re a wolf.”

  “I am. Does it bother you?” It bothered a lot of humans. Sure, it seemed great on the screen and romantic in books, but in real life? Real-life women tended to scream when they found out their boyfriend turned furry on full moons.

  “I don’t know,” she replied, surprising him. Given her timid nature, he’d expected her to start screaming again or get that terrified look back in her eyes—I wish my mother could have taken the news of my change half as well. Eventually, she’d learned to accept it.

  “Does it help if I say I’m house trained?”

  “You shouldn’t be joking about this.” She wetted her lips, a flick of her pink tongue that sent more blood rushing to his groin. “I don’t understand anything anymore. You’re not supposed to exist, and neither are zombie things.”

  “Those of us who walk in shadows tend to keep it a secret. Not everyone understands. You should know that because you obviously have secrets of your own.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  He doubted even she believed that lie. “It’s plain to see you’re hiding something, Adara. And I’m guessing whatever that is, is why those zombies came after you.”

  “But I don’t remember.” Her lips turned down. “I don’t want to remember. I just want to get past the pain. To stay out of the hospital. I’m not crazy.”

  “Why would you say that?” he asked.

  “Why else would they have locked me in an asylum?”

  His brows rose. “You spent time in a mental ward?”

  “Yes.” Her shoulders lifted and fell. “My doctor said it was for my own good. All the drugs and therapy sessions, though, didn’t take away the fear. I’m always scared, and I hate it.”

  She looked so pitiful and alone when she said that, it made Logan want to pull her into his arms and hug her. Tell her he would keep her safe. Then listen to her screech as she felt the partial hard-on he barely hid in his crouched position. I really need to find some damned clothes and some self-control. Since when do I find terrified women hot?

  “I want to help you. We’ll find answers to some of your questions, but only if you help me find something to wear.”

  Her eyes finally focused. She gasped as she noticed his state of undress. Her cheeks turned a ruddy color before she ducked her head. Logan felt torn between an urge to chuckle at her bashfulness and chagrin that she only now took note of his naked body—a form that no woman had ever managed to ignore before, dressed or not.

  “Why are you naked?” she squeaked.

  “I’m going to go ahead and point out the obvious that my wolf would look pretty dumb wandering around in tighty-whities.”

  He heard the soft snort. “So you get naked before you change?”

  “When possible. It’s not a gentle process, and anything I’m wearing tends to not survive.”

  “I can’t believe we’re talking about this.”

  “Neither can I.” Conversations about his lycan nature weren’t exactly a common occurrence. “So, about some clothes?”

  He hadn’t meant to draw her attention to his nudity. Okay, maybe he did. Perhaps he wanted her to stop ignoring the fact that he was a man. And she, a woman.

  Her breathing quickened, and he noticed the musky scent of arousal that made his inner beast rumble. About time she showed that she wasn’t immune to his charms now that she’d noticed them.

  Why do I want her to notice me? What happened to ferreting out her secrets to ensure that she wasn’t dangerous to his town and his pack?

  Who said he wasn’t? Seduction was a great way to get someone to spill his or her secrets.

  He reached out to brush back her hair, intent on seeing her face, only she flinch
ed before he could touch.

  She scuttled over to a mattress on the floor and pulled a worn blanket from it. With her eyes averted, she handed it to him. “I don’t think I have anything else large enough to cover you,” she said.

  “The curse of being big.”

  She caught the innuendo, and he could almost hear the rapid staccato of her heart.

  Giving in to his chuckles, Logan wrapped the bedding, which smelled like her, around his lean waist and knotted it. Unfortunately, he still had a prominent bulge visible, so in an effort to camouflage his cock until it went back down, he sat in the only chair in the room.

  “What the f—” Logan bit off the exclamation and jumped up, rubbing his posterior.

  “Sorry,” she murmured, eyes downcast, probably to hide the mirth teasing her lips. “I can’t afford to buy furniture yet. I found that sitting beside the dumpster. It’s got a few loose springs.”

  “More like spikes,” grumbled Logan, glaring at the offending chair. That’s it. We are blowing this hellhole. “Don’t take this wrong, honey, but this place is a dump.”

  “I hadn’t noticed,” was her dry reply. “Thanks for pointing that out.”

  “It’s not going to get better now that you’ve got two dead bodies in it.”

  “And your point is what? I can’t afford to go anywhere else. Although, I guess once the bodies are found, I’ll probably get arrested. I doubt anyone will believe me when I say that they came here on their own.”

  “Don’t worry about the bodies. I’ll take care of them.” There were crews in every city whose sole purpose was to clean up messes.

  “What does ‘take care of them’ mean?” she asked suspiciously. “Exactly who are you?”

  “Logan O’Conaill, local pack leader.”

  She blinked. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

  “Think of me as the head of a militia group. I’m the guy to turn to if you have a problem.”

  “Seems kind of counterintuitive to turn to a man who doesn’t bat an eye at zombies and body disposal.”

  “I’m a wolf. We turn every full moon. Blood and bodies aren’t anything new.” Too late, he realized how that sounded. She recoiled. “I didn’t mean that I eat people.” Unless they pissed him off. “But my wolf side likes to hunt. Small game.” Mostly. The buck he’d caught last winter had filled his freezer.

  “I am not talking to a man about eating woodland creatures. I am going to wake up. This is one of my weird dreams. Not real,” she chanted. She shut her eyes against him.

  As strategies went, it kind of worked because he had no idea how to proceed. “Um, Adara. I’m not leaving.”

  “You will be gone when I wake up.”

  “No, I won’t, and neither will these bodies because this isn’t a dream. You need to stop thinking that. We need to get out of here.”

  “And go where? Even when I close my eyes, I’m not safe.” Her shoulders slumped.

  “I have somewhere safe I can take you.”

  “Safe? With you?” Eyes of pure violet peered at him. The fear in their depths begging for someone she could trust.

  “I will never hurt you.” And he meant that. Adara roused feelings in him that he’d never imagined. Emotions that made him think of the pack legends about soulmates—stories he’d scoffed at all his life.

  Could it be? It’s been at least a century since the last reported soulmating. There was no denying it, though, something was happening between them. He just hoped it wasn’t one-sided.

  “If I agree to come with you, what happens to my apartment? To this?” She waved her hand at the corpses.

  “When you return”—as if he’d let her come back to this cesspool—“you’ll never even know there was a zombie in your place. I’ll get the pack on it as soon as we get you somewhere safe.”

  “Pack of what? Wolves? Are there more people like you?”

  “Yes. There’re also bears and jungle cats—which I recommend staying away from. Most of the tigers are Russian mob.”

  She blinked. “I didn’t just hear that.”

  “You did, and you’ll hear plenty more once we leave this place. You ready?” He held out his hand and looked at her, mentally urging her to trust him.

  “What should I bring?”

  “Nothing.” He wanted to burn even the clothes on her back, mostly so he could clothe her anew in things that didn’t stink of despair.

  Gnawing her lip, her brow wrinkled in thought, Adara took a step forward and slipped her small hand into his.

  A shock went through his system, and by the way her eyes widened, he knew she felt it, too. His beast did not seem surprised, and rumbled contentedly.

  Fuck you, Titus. She’s mine.

  Chapter Fifteen

  At his request, Adara looked away as Logan shifted back into a wolf—my wolf. Funny how knowing the man also doubled as her hairy protector made her trust him.

  If the predator didn’t tear her to shreds, then she could only hope the man wouldn’t either. And he’d made a good point about not sticking around. Those two zombies had gotten inside a locked apartment. She wasn’t safe here.

  Perhaps that was why her tummy felt funny. Thing was, it only felt that way around Logan. Especially now that she’d seen him naked. Even now, with her back to him, she could still picture his nude form—tanned all over with muscles that rippled hypnotically. It caused a twinge between her legs. An ache that wasn’t from an injury.

  Why do I feel this way?

  A thought tickled the back of her mind as if she should know what these bodily signs meant, but the answer hovered just out of reach. Ignoring it, she instead focused on the furry body that slid under her hand. The man was now a wolf again.

  She should have run screaming. Instead, she stroked her fingers through the warm fur. The shaggy head turned to look at her. She could see the question in his eyes. Ready?

  Not really.

  With a deep breath that made her gag with the stench of the dead things on her floor, she followed Logan out.

  Hopefully, none of her reclusive neighbors—whom she’d never met, or even seen—would wonder at her hanging with a wolf. Then again, most would probably assume he was a dog. A giant one.

  Big man, big beast. And of the two, she preferred the wolf. At least in that shape, he wore fur. Naked, Logan went beyond intimidating right into daunting—and very attractive. The thought warmed her whole body and roused a blush. Could it be attraction that is making me feel so odd?

  She wouldn’t know. Since regaining consciousness, the opposite sex held no interest for her. On the contrary, in the beginning, she’d cringed from men, even as Dr. Forrester reassured her that rape hadn’t played a part in her assault. Although, sometimes, Adara wondered if he’d lied.

  There was someone…

  Blink. The sidewalk swallowed the sound of her steps as she kept pace with the wolf. She didn’t speak. What could she say?

  “Nice evening.”

  Woof.

  Logan kept silent, too, but he also snuck glances at her. In retrospect, his green eyes were much too intelligent for a wild animal. A part of her mind giggled insanely at the fact that she’d so blithely accepted that Logan was a werewolf. Shouldn’t the discovery have sent her into a gibbering, semi-catatonic state? Actually, the zombie things had almost managed that. Compared to them, a man who turned furry seemed welcome in a world gone insane.

  What else exists that I don’t know about?

  Nightmares. The word whispered to her, and she shivered.

  Winter was coming fast on the tail end of autumn. Soon, the first true bite of cold and snow would nip, and the days would get shorter and darker.

  The monsters will get more active.

  Her fingers tightened in the fur.

  Monsters don’t exist.

  Logan led Adara to an alley not far from her work.

  He was spying on me! She felt some indignation at the realization, but at the same time, she couldn’t remain angry
, not when he’d saved her life.

  With her back turned, Adara waited as Logan shifted from his wolf shape to his man one. Didn’t peek as she heard the rustle of fabric as he changed into the clothes he’d stashed before going furry.

  Going furry. Snicker.

  Surreal didn’t even come close to describing this whole evening.

  I’m glad to know I’m not crazy. The wolf is real. Now, like some fairytale rescue, he was taking her from her hovel to a place where she might have a warm bed to sleep in and food to fill her aching belly.

  She still couldn’t quite believe that she’d agreed to accompany him, but then again, what choice did she have? Bad things kept happening to her. At least Logan had proven he could protect her. I wonder what he’ll expect as payment. I have nothing.

  Her mind grasped on the one thing men always wanted. You have your body. Adara shivered, but she couldn’t have said if her reaction was a result of fear or anticipation.

  A warm arm slipped around her waist, and Adara jumped.

  “Calm down, honey. I’m not going to hurt you. I was just trying to warm you up. You’re shaking like a leaf. You should have worn a thicker jacket.”

  “I don’t have one.”

  Adara thought she heard a growl, and she peered up at him with panic, but he smiled reassuringly down at her.

  “Then I guess that’s one of the things we’ll have to rectify. Come on, the place we’re going isn’t too far.”

  Not too far apparently meant a gazillion blocks away. Adara found herself pulled along, his strong arm latched around her waist securely, tucking her tightly against his very warm frame. The tremors in her body calmed as she leached the heat from his.

  “Where is this safe place?” she asked to break the silence.

  “My house.”

  “Won’t your wife or girlfriend have a problem with that?” Not subtle as fishing attempts went, but Adara didn’t want to walk into an unpleasant situation.

  His body rumbled as he laughed. “I’m single, honey.”

  “Oh,” Adara mumbled, secretly pleased with his answer. And frightened.

  I’m going alone with him to his house. What if he’s lying? What if he wants to hurt me?