Pursued by a Werewolf (Mystic Isle, Book 4)

by Blake, Selena

  “He doesn’t sound like a man.” Hunter swiped one of her tears with the pad of his thumb and something inside her swelled at the tender gesture. “He sounds like a silly little boy who wouldn’t know a good thing if it came up and slapped him in the face. A coward, just like you said. But also a self-centered little shit who didn’t deserve you then and doesn’t deserve your tears now.”

  She closed her eyes at his words, feeling the depth of emotion behind them and then he squeezed her hands. In that moment, she felt like a piece of her soul returned.

  Hunter was right. One hundred percent right.

  After a long silence, he spoke again. “Who turned you?”

  “A doctor, actually. Two weeks after my wedding-that-wasn’t, I lost the baby. Because, you know, having my fiancé accuse me of being a whore, finding out I had cancer and would likely die within six months and then, oh yeah, that same fiancé left me at the alter…that just wasn’t enough of a shit storm. My body which had always been my temple betrayed me one more time. The doctor knew the whole story. He turned me and sent me to Valencia. I’ve been with her ever since.”

  He leaned forward and cupped her cheeks, then gave her the most beautiful, gentle kiss of her life. When he pulled back, the look in his eyes spoke louder than words. While there was sadness in the ways his brows wrinkled and drew together, there was also admiration and a hint of relief.

  “Thank you for telling me.”

  Hunter shifted so that he was lying next to her, then he pulled her down into his arms. She snuggled against his chest, her fingertips cool against his skin.

  Along with rage over what she’d been forced to endure he felt a calmness seeping into him. He’d discovered her darkest shadows and they were all out there in the open, ready to be dealt with head on. Thank the gods she’d finally trusted him enough to tell him.

  “You’re the most courageous person I know.”

  He’d known that something tremendous had happened to her in the past, something that made her commitment shy. But her story…it just kept hitting him in the heart over and over like a battering ram. And though she told it like a story that had happened to someone else, he could hear the bitter emotion lurking there.

  “How do you figure that? I’m terrified of forever, of what it really means. I’m scared of love and commitment and putting myself out there to be shattered again.”

  “You had a choice. The doctor didn’t pounce on you, did he? You chose to become a vampire and take a second chance at life.”

  “Yeah…when you put it like that.”

  She obviously tried so hard not to let her past matter, to live as if it didn’t affect her, and yet it did. Completely. Because of Robert and her illness she was afraid to fall in love, to trust another man, to believe in her own future.

  He bit back his anger; the destructive emotion wouldn’t help either of them. Her past was history, unchangeable. He needed to be on an even keel if he was going to help her overcome that past and believe that they stood a chance. And that’s exactly what he had to do because anything less than forever wasn’t acceptable.

  “I hate that you went through that. It’s more than anyone should have to endure. But I can see that you’re stronger because of it. You’re loyal to your friends, friendly and encouraging. I’m glad you let that doctor turn you and I’m glad you made a new life for yourself with Valencia.”

  “Who knows how long this one will last,” she said and sighed.

  He hugged her close. “That’s why we have to make the most out of the time we have. Not squander a single second but live full on, taking chances.”

  What he really wanted to say was that she needed to risk her heart, just one more time, on him.

  They laid like that, arms wrapped around one another, her head resting on his chest, until the first tendrils of light swept across the horizon.

  “I miss this,” she whispered into the early morning quiet.

  “Sunrise?”

  She nodded and his heart ached for her. He squeezed her gently.

  “It’s time for you to get back.”

  “I'm going to do a supply run,” she said as she sat up. Turning, she glanced down at him again and he felt pulled, mesmerized, captured by her beautiful blue eyes. Deep as sapphires and just as seductive. How was it he never got tired of looking at her? Trying to read her expressions? Learning what made her tick?

  “I'll go with you.” Though his palm missed the feel of her cool skin, he made no move to touch her again. Remember the plan, wolf. Have her begging for your touch.

  “You don't have to.”

  “But I want to.”

  “Suit yourself,” she said, the corners of her mouth turning up. He knew she was about to flash; could see the mischief in her. Quickly, he reached out and cupped her cheek and then they were flying. Cool air surrounded him as darkness rushed at him from all sides.

  When his feet hit solid ground again, they were in a darkened room. Avery stared up at him with a hint of wonder in her beautiful face; her jaw dropped ever so slightly.

  “How did you know?”

  “That you were about to flash? I could just tell.”

  He stepped away from her and surveyed their surroundings. The room was elegant and spacious with obviously expensive fabrics, old furnishings, and a soft pleasing palette. Too feminine for him.

  “Is this your room?”

  “Yes.”

  He noticed a pair of sneakers at the foot of the bed and a water bottle on the nightstand. But the items weren’t new. They looked aged but well cared for and he decided they must be special to her.

  “How long until nightfall?” He asked, noting the thick floor to ceiling drapes.

  “Half an hour ago. Just let me get the movies and I'll be ready.”

  It didn't take her long to select a handful of favorites and store them in the canvas shoulder bag. When she pushed to her feet and turned, she found him staring at a painting of the Eiffel tower. The sky was dark and moody, the stars bright swirls of color. She loved the painting’s energy and found herself staring at it, daydreaming.

  “Have you ever seen it at night?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “I saw it during the day once, many years ago. But I have to say, it's more spectacular at night.” She looped her arm through his and looked the painting over. “You don't have anywhere you need to be right now do you?”

  “You should know better than to ask me that,” he murmured softly, a gentle edge to his voice.

  He was right. She should. The feeling of excitement and rightness expanded. Grinning up at him she said “hold on to me.”

  His reply was cut off as she flashed them to the apartment Valencia kept in Paris. They landed on the extra plush carpet in the center of the living room. Exquisite antiques dotted the space along with fine silk fabrics and the best view of the tower that money could buy.

  Only the best for Valencia Fabelle.

  Avery set her bag on the intricately crafted wood floor and stepped to the floor to ceiling doors that opened onto a spectacular balcony. She pushed back the heavy drapes to reveal a midnight sky and the sparkling tower of creamy gold lights.

  “Wow.” Hunter was at her back in an instant.

  She unlocked the doors and pushed them open. A chill swept around her, lifting her hair as they stepped outside. She would never tire of this view. Of all the places she'd seen in the world, nowhere else had the power to steal her breath so easily.

  Whoever had coined the term City of Light had been spot on. She let the gorgeous sight soak into her, through her.

  “You can almost reach out and touch it,” he said, sliding his hands to her shoulders.

  She nodded. “I love how it twinkles. Like someone went into the heavens and gathered up thousands of stars and brought them back, hanging them from the tower like Christmas ornaments.”

  “You have a way with words, Avery Cooper.”

  He had a way with his hands. It was taking everythi
ng in her not to lean into him and beg for his kiss.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” he said, stepping back. The cool air replaced his warmth and she shivered. She wasn’t dressed for France. But then, neither was he. “Come on. We’ll pick up some warmer clothes on the way.”

  “But it’s so late.” She’d planned to flash them back to the mansion where she had warmer clothes for her shopping expedition. He reached for her hand and pulled her back into the apartment.

  He locked the doors quickly and efficiently and she couldn’t help but admire his sure movements. “Let me worry about that.” He closed the curtains, turned and tapped the tip of her nose with his index finger.

  What in the world?

  He reached for her hand, stopped to pick up her bag and then led her to the door. Five minutes later she found herself in a small store a block down from Valencia’s apartment. She recognized the exclusive sign since she’d accompanied Valencia to the store for a cashmere beret one winter several years ago.

  “The owner is a friend,” Hunter murmured as he pulled a wool coat from a rack.

  She turned and glanced at the women’s clothing on the opposite side of the room.

  “Pick whatever you want. It’s on me.”

  By the time she’d selected a pair of jeans he had an entirely new outfit on. An older gentleman appeared from the back room, four shoe boxes in his arms.

  “I took the liberty of calling next door for shoes,” the man said in stilted English. He sounded as proper as he looked, not that she’d expected anything less.

  “Thank you Francois. We really appreciate your help.”

  “Did you save his life too?” Avery asked, only half teasing. Pearl clearly still had hero worship and Avery couldn’t blame her. Hunter was one of a kind. Not only did he not run away from the fray, he jumped into the battle, risking his own life for complete strangers. And friends…

  He smirked. “No.”

  As if it wasn’t the least bit strange to be switching from swim trunks and a T-shirt in the middle of the night to cool weather gear, Hunter lowered himself into a chair, pulled on a pair of socks and then donned the leather boots.

  When he rose to his full height and glanced over at her, Avery’s heart skipped three beats. He was magnificent. Worldly and yet the same casual hunk she knew.

  “How do I look?” he asked, holding his arms out.

  The sweater made his eyes greener and the jeans…

  “Turn around,” she said but the words came out sounding hoarse.

  He did as she asked. The dark denim cupped his derriere like a glove. She licked her lips.

  “Very handsome.” And that was the understatement of the millennium.

  “You’d better pick up the pace. It’ll be morning if you don’t hurry,” he teased.

  She didn’t completely understand why they had to change in the first place. Except for fitting in to Parisian society that is. She was always cold and neither of them could die from the chill in the air. But she couldn’t deny her desire to walk the streets and see the lights.

  Avery quickly found a pair of jeans and a red sweater. She slipped them on in the dressing room and stared at her reflection. She looked happy. Really, truly, grin-at-yourself-in-the-dressing-room-mirror happy. To be honest, she hardly recognized herself. Sure, she had the same black hair as always, the same deep blue, heavily hooded eyes that had been staring back at her for more than a quarter of a century. But the relaxed posture, the smile always hovering at the corner of her lips, that was all new.

  That was all Hunter’s doing.

  When had he worked his way past her defenses? Was it the moment they’d first locked eyes again in the yoga studio? Or that night he’d caught her after the rat Calvary had run by? Or perhaps it was when he’d listened to her past without a hint of pity.

  “Everything all right in there?”

  “Yeah.” She took a deep breath and opened the door.

  Hunter stood just outside, an overhead light spotlighting him. The smirk on his lips turned into a full smile. “You look beautiful. Let’s get you some shoes and hit the sidewalk.”

  She loved his enthusiasm. His sense of adventure. She’d been missing that these last few years. Valencia was fairly set in her ways and didn’t really have any desire to light things up.

  But Hunter made every situation fun. Probably because he was so laid back. She needed laid back in her life. And adventure apparently.

  He sat her down on the same chair as he’d been in earlier and made short work of slipping socks onto her feet.

  “Have I told you how crazy I am about red toe nail polish on a woman?” he asked, inspecting her toes.

  “Well, I suppose it would look better on me than on a man.”

  He threw his head back and laughed.

  Gracious, how she loved that sound.

  He sobered just long enough to slip a pair of black knee high boots up her legs. When he was done, he held out his hands and helped her up.

  “Stunning. As always. You just need one thing.” He pulled a red and black plaid hat off a nearby table. With that glimmer still lighting his eyes, he stepped toe to toe with her and arranged the wool cap on her head. “Perfect.”

  After leaving the shop, Avery reached for his hand. A sense of rightness settled inside his chest. This was how his life was supposed to be. Spontaneous trips with his woman at his side, exploring new places, enjoying the sights.

  Even at this late hour, the air was thick with the scent of flour and yeast as they passed a bakery. No doubt the baker would be in soon to start the day.

  “I never get tired of the architecture here,” Avery said as they turned down a small side street.

  Trees hid the upper portion of the buildings from view but in Paris, things as boring as doorways were spectacular. Stone was carved with intricate, awe inspiring detail. Speckled shadows painted the sidewalk thanks to sporadic lighting and the gently swaying branches overhead.

  “Have you ever thought of moving here?”

  “I visit with Valencia, but no. It’s a lot easier to hide in the country.”

  He understood what she meant. Valencia could withstand sunlight; Avery could not. It was easier to come and go in the middle of the night when one owned all the surrounding property. A city as populated as Paris was different.

  Hunter felt Avery tremble.

  “You okay?”

  Perhaps he should have insisted on gloves.

  “Yeah.” She let go of his hand and wrapped her arm tighter around his. Hunter loved the feel of Avery clinging to his arm but he scented something dark in the air. It could have been an over active imagination or years of anticipating threats, but as he tipped his head back and inhaled deeply, he smelled the stench of greed.

  He heard them move before he saw them. The shadows played tricks on the eyes so he relied heavily on his other more advanced senses. They would be even stronger if he was in his true form. He knew the second Avery saw them because both her hands curled into his bicep and she sucked in a deep breath. He heard her heartbeat accelerate.

  His wolf raced to the front and he had to fight to keep his teeth from changing and claws from sprouting from his fingertips.

  “Easy, wolf,” Avery whispered. Even though she was obviously scared, her thumb moved back and forth against his arm, soothing his beast.

  Surprisingly, his wolf listened and eased back just a bit. But there was still a definite heat licking his shoulders, readying him for battle.

  Two men stopped about a meter and a half away. Human. They said something in French and Avery answered just as quickly.

  “They want the bag.”

  “I gathered that, but they’re not getting it.”

  “Hunter—”

  “Trust me, sweetheart.”

  “I do,” she whispered back.

  The two men glanced at each other and stepped forward. The one on the left with long greasy looking hair motioned for the bag. The one on the right with the cold, d
ark eyes pulled a gun from beneath his coat.

  It’d been a while since Hunter’d gotten into a good fight and as much as he relished the idea of spilling a little blood, now wasn’t the time or the place.

  “Tell them they’ve got three seconds to get out of my face or they’ll be laying face down on the sidewalk.”

  Avery glanced up at him for just a moment before relaying the message. The asshat on the right smirked and stepped forward.

  Before she could reply, he launched forward, grabbed each man by the throat and smacked their heads together. The hollow sound was gut clenching and the vibration through his wrists was just as disturbing. They crumbled to the ground and the gun clattered against the sidewalk. He kicked it over the curb and it landed beneath a parked car.

  His heartbeat roared in his ears, but it was drowned out by an even faster heartbeat. And a muffled sound of distress. When he turned around there was another man holding Avery by the arm, a gun pointed at her side.

  Hunter’s heart stopped and then jump started ferociously. Without a second to lose, he reached down and retrieved the canvas bag full of Avery’s slumber party supplies. He made a show of handing it toward the man and the instant the other man’s gaze dropped, Hunter closed the distance, punching the son of a bitch so hard that his skull cracked and blood splattered. The man’s body fell backward, wrenching Avery around as he dropped.

  Hunter reached for her, clasping around her wrist and pulling her into the shelter of his arm. He couldn’t be sure if the SOB was dead or not and he certainly didn’t care. The only thing that mattered right now was protecting his mate.

  “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  She slid her palm against his and they double timed it to the end of the road and kept on going until they reached Quai d’Orsay, the street overlooking the Seine River. He kept them moving until they’d covered what must have been three blocks. A small, darkened alcove beckoned and he glanced around to make sure they weren’t followed before pressing Avery into the shadows.