Derik's Bane

by Davidson, MaryJanice

  Oh my God, that was so so good.

  Oh my God, I’m such an asshole.

  But it was so good!

  And you’ll pay for it, ass face. What the hell are you going to tell her? And when? Jerk.

  So so good. Like, once in a lifetime good. And her poor mom! I’m glad she told me. Imagine living with—

  Stay focused. Jerk.

  And oh Jesus, her smell, and the feel of her, the way she held on and whimpered and squirmed, the way—

  The way you were a jerk. The way you didn’t tell her she didn’t have to. The way you didn’t want another sleepless night.

  Well, look at it this way, he thought. Maybe she’ll destroy the world, and I’ll never have to tell her tonight was completely unnecessary.

  Nice, his inner voice—Michael’s voice—said snidely. Maybe billions will die so you don’t have to face the music. You’re sick, dude.

  23

  DERIK ROLLED OVER AND SAW SARA SITTING ON THE edge of the bed. “Didja blow up the world yet?” he mumbled, scrubbing his face with his palm.

  “Stop asking me that. And the answer is no.” She took a sip of her coffee and grinned at him. “So you have to get up.”

  “Aw, man . . .”

  “It’s ten o’clock in the morning! I’m pretty sure the good guys don’t laze away in bed, giving the bad guys plenty of time to plan.”

  “Ummm . . . can I have a sip of your coffee?”

  “Touch my cup and die. Jon’s got a whole pot out in the kitchen. Besides, I put a ton of sugar in mine, and you don’t like that.”

  He yawned. “How’d you know that?”

  “I pay attention, numb nuts. Rise and shine.”

  “Ummm . . . c’mere.”

  She scooted out of his reach. “None of that, now. It’s time to go.” She smiled at him again. He supposed that in the movies the sun would be shining on her and she’d seem all godlike and bright to him, but this was real life, and so she only looked really really good. She was wearing a scoop-necked T-shirt that tantalized him with her cleavage, and when she smiled, her eyes lit up and looked like the deep end of a pool on a hot day. “Play your cards right, though, and maybe we’ll stop early for the day.”

  “It’s a date,” he said, and bounded out of bed.

  She nearly spilled her coffee. “Jesus! A little warning before you do that.”

  “Wait until I’ve had my coffee. Then you’ll see something.” He yawned again and scratched his ass, then remembered someone he wanted to impress was in the room, and stopped. “Sleep good?”

  “After you wore me out last night? I’m sort of surprised I didn’t slip into a coma around two A.M.”

  “Awww,” he said, and twined one of her red curls around his finger. “That’s so sweet.” He let go, and it bounced into her eye.

  “Ow!”

  “Oh, shit! Sorry.”

  “As a tender moment,” she informed him, “that left a lot to be desired. Go take a shower.”

  “Come with me,” he wheedled.

  “Forget it,” she said. “Better hurry, or all the coffee will be gone.”

  THEY WERE FINISHING BREAKFAST WHEN JON snapped his fingers, said, “Forgot,” got up, left, came back. “Picked this up for you when I went out,” he said, and slid a glossy magazine across the table.

  “Oh, dude! Thanks! I’ve been waiting for this one.” To her complete and total amazement, Derik started thumbing through the current issue of Fine Cooking. “I don’t even know why I subscribe to this thing, it’s really hard to wait for it to show up in the mail. I always end up buying it on the stands, too. Oh, well, I can always sell the extra ones on eBay.”

  “What just happened?” she asked.

  “If you’re going to be with Derik,” Jon said, “you must also be obsessed with cooking.”

  “What? Seriously?” She looked at the big, strapping blond across from her. “Big homemaking fan, are you?”

  “No,” Jon said as Derik became absorbed in an article on cilantro, “but he’s a big cooking fan.”

  “I only get it for the articles,” Derik said defensively.

  “Didn’t you notice the shirt?” Jon added, referring to Derik’s black shirt with white lettering: FREE MARTHA.

  “I could hardly miss it,” she said, “but I thought it was some werewolf thing.”

  Jon snorted. “To our everlasting relief, it’s not.”

  “Okay, this is the weirdest thing to happen to me this week,” Sara said.

  Derik slapped the magazine closed. “I can’t concentrate with you two jabbering like apes.”

  “Hey, hey!” Jon protested. “Watch the language.”

  “Sorry. Sara, are you ready to hit it?”

  She blinked. “Sure, I guess. Are you?”

  “I’ll cook for you sometime. Then you won’t give me shit.”

  “You’ve been letting me slave over a hot campfire all this time?”

  “I need my kitchen tools to do a really good job,” he explained.

  “Great. Hey, I love to cook, too. At last, something in common! Not that, as an engaged couple, we don’t have tons in common,” she added hastily, realizing her slip. “Because we totally, totally do. Have tons in common, I mean. Tons.”

  “That’s quite a hole you’re digging with your mouth,” Derik observed.

  “It’s true,” Jon supplied, rescuing her. “Derik’s an amazing cook. His tomato-less pizza will make you cry like a tiny girl. Don’t get me started on his butterscotch cookies.”

  Sara said nothing. For the life of her, she couldn’t think of a thing. Not that she was some sort of reverse chauvinist, all “men shouldn’t be in the kitchen because they’re too big and strong,” but it was hard to picture Derik in a KISS THE COOK apron.

  The three of them stood around the table, Derik cradling his magazine, and there was a long, awkward moment, followed by Jon clearing his throat.

  “Well, good luck, you guys.”

  “Thanks for letting us stay over,” Sara said, giving him a hug. “And for the, um, reading material.”

  “Sure, Sara, anytime.” Jon was looking at Derik. “Sure you don’t want an extra pair of hands?”

  “We’ve got it covered,” Derik replied. “And by ‘got it covered’ I of course mean, we’re pulling it out of our asses as we go along.”

  “But don’t worry,” Sara added.

  “Right. Don’t do that.”

  “At least stay through the full moon,” Jon coaxed. “Rest up, figure out the rest of your plan.”

  “We gotta hit it, Jon. It’ll be fine. We’ll be in a state park somewhere when She comes up.”

  “Don’t forget your promise,” Jon said.

  “We’ll be back,” Derik said.

  “We’re like terminators that way,” Sara added brightly.

  24

  THEY WERE IN ANOTHER CAMPSITE, SUPPER WAS done, even the dishes were done. Now they were snuggling beside the campfire, and when Sara looked up into his face, she noticed his eyes glowed back yellow-green. It was startling, yet comforting.

  “You know, the thing about Jon,” she began.

  “Oh, good, I was hoping you were going to talk about another guy.”

  She ignored that. “He seemed like a regular person, you know? I mean, to look at him, you wouldn’t think, ‘Thar’s a werewolf, git the gun, Paw.’ ”

  “Christ, I hope not. And I guess it makes sense. There’s not very many of us. And there’s tons of you. So I guess we blend in pretty good.”

  “I mean, I see you all the time, and I forget about it a lot, unless you do something to remind me. Like this morning. I blinked, and you were on the other side of the room. It freaked me out.”

  “I can’t help it”—he sighed—“if I’ve evolved as a genetically superior being.”

  “Oh, shut the hell up. Listen, what’s the real reason you’re avoiding your family? The Pack?”

  “Huh?”

  “Well, you just seem awfully concerned tha
t they’ll catch up with us, but not just because they’ll try to ice me. So what’s up with that?”

  “It’s . . . kind of complicated.”

  “Derik . . .”

  “Well . . . you know what an alpha is, right? Like the boss of a group? And our Pack has an alpha. It’s Michael. Which is totally fine. But sometimes . . . sometimes alphas aren’t born, they’re made. And I don’t know how it happened, but in the last couple of weeks I’ve wanted . . . wanted things I don’t deserve. At least I think I don’t deserve them. And I left before things could get . . . well, you know.”

  “Oh.”

  “I can’t go home again. So,” he added, forcing cheer, “it’s just as well that this whole save-the-world thing came up, you know?”

  “Well, what I don’t get is—”

  “Can we change the subject?”

  “Uh . . . sure. So, what’s the plan for tomorrow night?”

  “Before or after we have hot, wild monkey sex?”

  “Can we have a serious talk, here? Like for thirty seconds? Is that too much for you?”

  “I can’t help it if I’d rather picture you naked than talk about our feelings, or whatever.”

  “I’m not even talking about our feelings, you half-wit!” She saw that he was delighted he’d teased her into yelling. “Very funny. Are you gonna answer the question?”

  “Well. We’ll have to make sure we’re pulled over by the time the sun goes down, that’s all. I’ll Change, you’ll sleep, I’ll probably bring down a couple of rabbits and then curl up next to the fire, blah-blah.”

  “Blah blah? This is the most surreal conversation I’ve ever had,” she announced, “and it’s been quite a week for me, in case you hadn’t noticed. You’ll curl up next to the fire? Like a good boy? Should we pull over and get you some Milk Bones?”

  “You know,” he grumped, “some people would be a little nervous about spending the night in the woods with a werewolf.”

  “Some people cheat on their taxes. It’s a weird world.” She slipped her hand under his shirt. His pro-Martha Stewart shirt. Best not to go that route, if she wanted to maintain her horniness. “So, uh, you got any plans for the rest of the evening?”

  “Well, I was thinking about jumping your bones and then taking a nap.”

  “Excellent! Oh, wait a minute, I’m not that easy.” Heck, two nights ago she’d been fervently . . . well, a little bit . . . opposed to making love with a perfect stranger. Although Derik was far from perfect. “What the hell.” She sighed as he bent and nibbled on her throat. “Yes, I am. By the way, I’m on the Pill. And I assume you’re disease-free, being a genetically superior irritating being and all.”

  “The Pill?” He paused in mid-nibble. “Oh. Okay. That’s good.”

  It didn’t sound like he thought it was good. In fact, it sounded like he thought it was the opposite of good. “What, you wanted me to get pregnant?” she joked.

  “No, no.”

  Weird. Because he sounded . . . disappointed? Maybe it was a cultural thing. She’d figure it out later.

  She slapped a mosquito and kissed him back, delighting in the feel of his hard stomach beneath her fingers, the way his taut muscles rippled under—

  “Ouch, damn it!”

  “What? What?”

  “I’m getting eaten alive, here.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he murmured into her ear. “And if you give me another minute, I’ll—”

  “I meant by bugs, idiot.”

  “Oh.”

  “Where’s the Off?”

  “Poison in a can? No. No, Sara. Please,” he begged as she got up in search of relief. “Don’t put that stuff all over you. Please!”

  “Derik,” she said, exasperated. “I’m going to be one big mosquito bite tomorrow. I’m sorry you don’t like the smell, but—”

  “Let’s go in the truck,” he suggested.

  She paused and slapped another flying vampire. “Good idea.”

  In another minute, they were groping and moaning on the front seat.

  “Oh, God . . .”

  “Um . . .”

  “Oh, that’s nice . . . here . . . move over here.”

  “Ah . . . oooh.”

  “Yeah, like that . . . oh, God.”

  “Ooooh, baby.”

  “That’s—ow!”

  “What?”

  “The gearshift is sticking into my neck . . . there. Um. Okay, that’s better. Move your hand an inch to the . . . yeah. Oooh.”

  “Mmm.”

  “Ow!”

  “What?”

  “Your foot is caught in my shirt.”

  “Sorry . . .”

  “That’s better . . . yeah . . . um . . . here, raise up . . . a little more.”

  “Oh, Christ.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do not stop.”

  “Well, I don’t—ow!”

  He sighed. “What?”

  “What, what? My head is on the floor mat, and you’re confused?” She puffed hair out of her eyes, but due to her upside-down position, it just flopped back. “It’s a mystery why I’m protesting?”

  “Sorry. How’s that?”

  “Derik, this isn’t working.”

  “What are you talking about?” He was panting, disheveled, bottomless. She would have laughed if she hadn’t been so uncomfortable. “It’s fine.”

  “What are you, high? You are, aren’t you? And you aren’t even sharing the good drugs.”

  “You’re the one with a prescription pad. Besides, you’re just not giving it a chance.”

  “Your foot was in my shirt. And now I have Raisinettes in my hair.”

  He burst out laughing. “Okay, okay. You win. Go put the fucking poison on.”

  “Forget it. Let’s just bag it for tonight.”

  “Aw, man . . .” He indicated his dick, which was happy to see her. “I’m kind of in an awkward situation, here.”

  “So? Your erection will go away.” She grinned. “You know, eventually.”

  “Aw, Sara . . . you’re killing me. I mean, sincerely killing me. I think your luck is going to make my balls blow up.”

  “Yeah, yeah, cry me a river.” She paused. He really did look pathetic. “Maybe I could help you out.”

  “Please?” he begged.

  She wriggled and squirmed around and finally found herself in a position that didn’t make her want to scream with pain. She gripped him by the root, pumped up and down, then bent and licked the pearly drop off his tip.

  “Oh my God,” Derik gasped, his hips thrusting toward her. “Oh, Christ, do not stop.”

  She licked and pumped and licked some more, and then his hand was on the back of her neck and she had a sense of his crushing power, power held in fierce check, heard him moan, “Don’t stop . . . don’t . . . don’t . . .” Then he was pulsing into her mouth.

  “Yech!” she said a minute later, while he lay gasping and limp as a noodle—all over. “What have you been eating?”

  He rolled his eyes until he was looking at her. “Can’t you just let me bask in the moment, here?” he sighed.

  “Go jump in the lake,” she replied. “Literally.”

  25

  SARA KEPT LOOKING AT HIM OUT OF THE CORNER of her eye, but she did it once too often, because finally Derik said, exasperated, “What?”

  “Sorry.”

  “I can tell you that when I Change, you’ll definitely notice. How ’bout that? So stop sneaking looks at me; it’s creeping me right the hell out.”

  “Give me a break,” she said, slightly defensively. “It’s been a weird week. I can’t help being a little nervous.”

  “Well, don’t be. I’d never hurt you.”

  “No, just kill me.”

  “Yeah, but it wouldn’t have hurt,” he said easily.

  She could actually feel her eyes bulge in her head as her blood pressure zoomed. “Oh my God, you’re serious!”

  He just looked at her.

  “Okay, well, you can
go run off in the woods now,” she said. “I’m pissed again.”

  “In a few minutes.” The sky was a gorgeous blaze of pinks and reds—a truly staggering sunset. And she was too annoyed and freaked out to appreciate it. “You okay?”

  “Sure. Sure I am.” She sneaked a glance at her wristwatch. It had been a long day—she’d spent it staring out the window, at the moon. Last night—heck, the night at Jon’s—seemed a thousand years ago.

  “Look, you’re all set here, right? Just stay with the truck. I’ll probably stick close, anyway. Stop looking at your watch, it’s making me nuts.”

  “Sorry,” she said, and like a bad dream, her gaze snuck to her watch again. “So, is it, like, Farmer’s Almanac sunset that you change? Or actual full dark? Because it’s a full moon right now, you know.”

  “I know,” he said, and did his voice sound . . . thick? She snuck another glance at him and noted he was staring dreamily at the sky. “Sunset to sunrise. That’s when we run with Her.”

  “Oookay. I’ll be cringing in my sleeping bag if you need me.” She started toward the truck, and quick as thought, he had her by the arm, gently restraining her. His nails, she noticed with a detachment that was almost like being drugged, were quite long, and curving under.

  Sure, it was like being drugged. She was scared, and her brain was trying to help her deal with that fear by going into analyze overload.

  Oh, for God’s sake, Sara! This was Derik, and bad first impressions aside, he’d chew off his left hand before hurting her.

  That was true, and she felt better, even if the sight of those nails—claws, really—was a bit upsetting. “What? What is it?”

  “Stay with the truck,” he said again, and it wasn’t her imagination; he was speaking with difficulty.

  “Okay,” she said. “You told me that already, but okay.”

  Then he was kissing her, almost devouring her, his tongue was in her mouth, and he’d picked her up off her feet, his arms were tight around her back. And he seemed—bigger? Was that possible? Or maybe he just seemed more there, because he was so close to his change.

  His mouth moved to her throat . . . and then he abruptly pulled back.

  “Well,” she said, almost panted. “That was . . . um, interesting. Could you let go of my arm now?”