Their gazes met and locked, and the newly formed pack bond flared to life between them. He sensed Theresa’s continued distress, compelling him to follow the walkway to her front door. He suspected the mystical connection contained great potential if properly employed.
As he reached the front porch, Theresa’s front door swung open. The black man stepped inside, moving with lithe grace despite his bulk. Her scent heightened the impact of her misery, sweetly compelling, provoking the protective instincts of his wolf. Theresa backed up a pace, trembling from head to toe. For a second, he thought she was afraid of him, but then her exhaustion and anger spiked the aura.
His dark gaze swept her slight body, registering the soft white cotton nightshirt she wore over tattered cotton shorts. Her long legs and feet were bare. A blood soaked bandage wound around her arm. She looked at him with limpid eyes and blinked, sending a tear trickling down her cheek. Her primal beauty aroused him, even as he sought to smother the attraction out of loyalty to his friend.
“Theresa, you’re bleeding,” Robert said, breaking that brittle silence. He reached for her arm at the same moment she emitted a sharp cry. Startled, he drew up short.
She rushed him, striking him center mass with all the power of a professional linebacker. Her arms wrapped about his waist and she turned her head into his shoulder. He automatically held her close, one hand pressed to her back, the other buried within the silken strands of her hair.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, rubbing circles across the small of her back with his palm. Her alluring aroma flooded his nostrils, causing his jaws to clench. His wolf grew excited.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
“No, it’s not. I lost my job. Carl could’ve killed me. What would have happened to Isabel?” A sob wracked Theresa’s body, felt before it was heard, and her sorrow overwhelmed him. At the same time, her scent surrounded him and arousal churned in his gut, causing blood to rush to his loins.
“Shush, now, you’re going to be fine. Isabel is with your mom?” he asked. Her hair felt like silk beneath his fingers, and his awareness of her lush femininity molded against his body further heightened his sexual excitement.
“Yes.” Theresa bobbed her head, and her cries quieted. Thankfully, she seemed unaware of his body’s traitorous reaction.
Shit. The last, the absolute last, fucking thing he needed was this sort of complication. He needed Zach’s loyalty to unseat Adam and gain leadership of the pack. If the Englishman suspected Robert of having designs on his woman, all bets were off.
“Let’s move into the kitchen and change the wrapping on your arm,” Robert said, mentally planning on calling Charlaine for help. His cousin’s presence would put out the fire in his pants. Pronto.
Chapter Eleven
The airport security line progressed with agonizing slowness, inching toward the conveyer belt that whisked bags and shoes through the scanner. Nostrils flaring, Zach ground his teeth and willed his patience to remain intact. At long last, he made it past the scanners and the security check without incident.
A safe distance from security, he dropped his bag to the dirty white tile floor and bent to put on his athletic shoes. As he tightened the laces, his cell phone rang. He checked the display—Robert Blane—and answered immediately.
“How is she?” Zach asked without preamble. In direct relation to his stress, his accent grew crisp and clean. He grabbed his bag and took off through the terminal at a brisk clip, heading for his boarding gate. He seethed with pent up aggression, and most humans instinctively steered clear of him. Many scurried to get out of his way, probably without even understanding why.
“Zach, calm down. Theresa is fine. She has a couple of busted ribs, but she’s going to heal.”
“What about Isabel?”
“She’s also fine and at her grandma’s.”
Zach nodded in silent approval. “Can I speak with her?”
“She’s sleeping. Do you want me to wake her up?”
Zach considered and shook his head. Then, he said, “No, let her sleep. What happened?”
“Carl Reynolds attacked her.”
He reached the gate and moved to an isolated corner to talk. A deadly calm took hold of Zach, far more dangerous than a fit of temper, all of his rage focused into obtaining one goal. “I’m going to kill him.”
“I was going to do just that, but Theresa stopped me. She insisted that he be judged before the pack,” Robert said. “Listen to me, man. Theresa is safe. The threat is over. You need to get a grip before you board that airplane, creating an incident that makes the shoe bomber look like a wardrobe malfunction.”
Zach’s jaw worked. He opened his mouth, closed it. “All right, I’m calm. Thanks for protecting her from Reynolds.”
Robert chuckled. “Actually, Theresa pretty much took care of him herself. By the time I got there, he was ready to roll over and submit.”
“Theresa?” Zach rapid blinked. One, twice. “My Theresa?”
“Your Theresa.” Robert’s voice contained an undertone rich with meaning—assessment, amusement, and acknowledgement. “She managed a partial shift on her own. It was the damnedest thing, Zach. I’ve never seen a low-ranked wolf progress so swiftly.”
“She’s always had the latent talent. She just needed that push,” Zach said, bursting with pride. He’d always believed in her and seen the potential that no one else had.
“Still…” Robert sounded understandably skeptical.
“Last night she drew power from me.”
“Through the new pack magic,” Robert said, reaching the logical conclusion. “The entire pack experienced her distress last night. The fight has created a huge stir. It’s going to take a while to calm everyone down.”
The airport loudspeaker activated and a female voice announced a boarding call.
“That’s my flight. I’ve got to go,” Zach said. “Tell Theresa I’ll be home in six hours.”
“Zach, be damn sure you’ve got your wolf under control before you board that plane.”
“I’m calm.” He hung up before Robert could urge further caution. Come hell or high water, nothing was keeping him from that airplane.
****
The aromatic scent of cooking bacon wafted up the stairs and roused Theresa from a sound sleep. She sniffed the air, stomach rumbling like a tiger’s growl, and rolled from the bed. Her bare feet hit the floor with a light thud. In a hurry, she threw on a T-shirt and jeans. The prior evening’s activities had left her starving, and she couldn’t wait to put food in her belly.
A quick glance out the window revealed a sky gray with early morning, and the red orb of the rising sun low in the eastern sky. That evening, the full moon would rise over Iron Stone, and already she could hear the irresistible siren song of the wild, serenading her, calling her to the forest. Tonight, she and the pack would become wolves and run beneath the canopy of pine trees, gliding across the wooded carpet of needles and dry grasses. They would sing to Mother Moon and hunt deer and hares. They would be home.
She called her mother and confirmed that Isabel was all right. She spoke to Isabel for a couple minutes, and then said their goodbyes. “I’ll see you after school, Mama. I love you.”
“I love you too, baby,” Theresa said, aware her voice sounded tearful despite her best efforts to remain calm. “Give the phone to Grandma.”
“I’ll drop her at school this morning, just like we planned. Don’t worry.”
“I won’t. Thanks, Mom,” Theresa said and hung up.
She made her way downstairs, following her nose to the kitchen. Tantalizing smells emanated from within, but Theresa paused in the doorway, hesitating to enter. Robert Blane and Charlaine Gale occupied the small room, engaged in quiet conversation. He wore a fluffy white apron that sported a cartoon sheep on the front, and he held a spatula in one hand. He moved about the kitchen with surprising dexterity, managing a multitude of tasks. Charlaine perched on the edge of a barstool, munching a strip of bacon.
Charlaine noticed her first. “Theresa, you’re finally up!”
Robert turned to face her. “Hey, how’re you feeling?”
Theresa made face. “Okay, I guess. I’m hungry enough to eat a horse. Not kidding.”
Charlaine laughed and patted the other stool. “From what I’ve heard, you earned your appetite last night. Here, sit down and eat. Robert is the best breakfast chef this side of the Mississippi.”
Robert grinned, flashing even white teeth. “Not that much of a boast anymore since we moved to Nevada. I have eggs, toast, and bacon, and coffee and orange juice to drink. What would you like?”
“All of that sounds fine.” Theresa frowned and her cheeks warmed with embarrassment. They’d brought their own food. Her cupboard would remain bare of such luxury items as coffee until she figured out how to pay the rent, which was due Friday. One more day… She had no choice. As much as she dreaded it, she’d have to confront Tony about the late child support he owed her.
After a moment of hesitation, she settled on the stool and accepted the plate of food that Robert handed her. She set it down in front of her, picked up a fork, and took an experimental jab at the scrambled eggs.
Robert watched her with thoughtful dark eyes and snickered. “Please, try a bite. I promise it won’t kill you.”
Her cheeks stained a darker shade of red, and she dug in, taking a large bite so he wouldn’t think it was his cooking that made her hesitate to accept the food. She chewed and swallowed, and then took a sip of her orange juice. The food was good, and she fell on it with the appetite of a hungry wolf, eating with gusto.
“Does it meet with your approval?” Robert asked with a cheeky grin.
Theresa swallowed a large bite of food and nodded. “Delicious.”
Charlaine laughed at her expression. “Didn’t think he had it in him, did you?”
“Can I take the Fifth?” Theresa asked, cracking a joke, even though her thoughts had turned down a more serious path. She still had no explanation for why two of the pack’s most dominant members were in her kitchen.
Charlaine dropped a reassuring pat on her shoulder. “What’s wrong, Theresa?”
Theresa licked her lips. “Am I in trouble?”
Both dominant wolves regarded Theresa with surprise. “Not at all,” Robert said. “Why would you think that?”
“Last night I caused quite a stir,” she said and hesitated. Not to mention the altercation at the diner…
Charlaine slapped a hand to the countertop. “That’s one hell of an understatement. You have the entire pack in a tizzy!”
Theresa winced and set down her fork. She believed Charlaine, even though she had no idea how such a thing could have happened. The events of the prior evening still held a dreamlike quality. No, make that nightmarish. It seemed reasonable that it must have something to do with the pack’s newborn magic, but she had no idea how it linked to her.
Robert leaned forward. He had a compelling gaze, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. She felt his power, cleverly hidden behind that warm smile, and knew him to be at least equal to Zach in strength. She suspected she couldn’t have judged the more dominant male even if they stood side-by-side before her.
“Theresa, the other night you managed to awaken something in this pack that no dominant wolf has been able to do since the old leaders died,” he said. “You connected every member from Alpha to Omega. Your courage inspired the empathy and sense of unity that binds a healthy pack together.”
“Carl attacked me because I inspire fear and jealousy,” she said, her voice sounding bitter in spite of her best effort to dismiss the emotion.
“There are always going to be people who react like that.” Charlaine smoothed her hand along her arm. “The important thing is not to let them get to you, because they are the minority.”
Robert regarded Theresa with respect, which she found flattering. However, the cool calculation apparent in his demeanor frightened her. “Do you understand what it all means?” he asked.
Theresa shook her head. “Not a clue.”
“It means you’re a linchpin, Theresa,” Charlaine said. “You have the potential to make this pack whole and healthy again.”
She frowned in dismay. “What if I don’t want to be a linchpin?”
“You may not have a choice,” Robert said. “Without a linchpin, this pack will fall apart and we’ll be right back where we started—chaos.”
Nothing like a little shame to make a gal feel bad for being selfish. Unable to hold his gaze for any longer, Theresa looked away and picked up a slice of bacon from her plate. She devoured it in silence, unable to think of anything clever or appropriate to say.
Charlaine snorted. “Smooth, Cuz, real smooth.”
“Guess my motivational speaking needs some work, huh?” Sounding chagrined, Robert turned back to the stove and removed the last of the bacon from the skillet. He shut off the burner and set about cleaning up the cooking area, carrying pans to the sink.
“You think?” Charlaine grinned and got up to help him by wiping down the countertop.
A vehicle turned into her driveway, and the engine shut off. A car door opened and shut. Their conversation ceased and all heads turned in unison. The ambient aura shifted with the addition of another wolf. Robert and Charlaine must have felt it too because they both grew alert.
For a second, Theresa panicked, thinking that it must be Adam. Tension gathered in her shoulders and all throughout her back. Surely, the Alpha must have heard from the sheriff already. Was he so angry that he’d come to see her in person instead of summoning her to him?
“Theresa?” Zach’s familiar voice called from the front yard, sounding urgent and worried.
Theresa surged to her feet. Zach. His distinctive masculine energy announced him, the same as his unique British accent. He united with the collective aura of those present, amplifying and enhancing, but also contributing his own unique signature while blending with the pack. She had never felt anything like it, not with such unerring accuracy over a distance. She heard the pounding of his footsteps, matching her own hurried stride as she ran out to meet him. He hit the porch as she yanked open the front door.
“Zach!” Taking a running leap, she vaulted into the air and flew into his open arms with a strangled cry. She locked her hands behind his neck and grasped his hips with her knees, clinging to him. His arms came around her, supporting and imprisoning her.
“You had me worried sick, love.” He kissed her full on the lips, rough and passionate, forcing her mouth open so he could claim her with teeth and tongue. He wore his favorite jacket, beaten and worn, but the leather was so supple that it felt as soft as suede. It smelled rich and luxuriant, just like Zach, and the material moved as a second skin.
From the moment he touched her, Theresa became lost in him, mired in an erotic haze that defined her entire existence. He plundered her moist mouth, tasting her, taking her with a penetrating motion that mirrored the most primal act. His hard body pressed against hers, chest to chest, hip to hip. She clung to him with her legs, riding him, and their crotches rubbed together, creating exquisite sensations. Theresa whimpered her need into his mouth, and Zach moaned in lusty reply.
Robert cleared his throat. “Well…”
Charlaine’s sultry chuckle intruded on Theresa’s passion. “We should leave these lovebirds alone.”
Suddenly self-conscious, Theresa released her hold on Zach and ended the kiss by pulling away. He opened his arms, and she slid down his body, landing on her feet. Flushing, she stared at the front of his shirt. An awkward silence settled over them.
Robert and Charlaine laughed at their obvious embarrassment, and the air thrummed with the newborn magic that bound all of them together into a cohesive unit. In the space of a week, all of the wolves of Iron Stone had progressed from a disjointed band to interconnected members of a big family. They were pack.
Zach took a step toward Robert and offered his hand. “Thanks for your help,
mate.”
Robert grasped Zach’s forearm and they shook. “Sure thing.”
Theresa tilted her head, evaluating the two dominant males. Without intending to, she found herself comparing them with thinly veiled speculation. To all extents and purposes, they had been forced into competition to become her prospective mate. As a woman and a she-wolf, she had to at least look them over and appraise their fitness.
Side by side, the men were an impressive pair, close to being an even match, within an inch of one another in height. Robert outweighed Zach, a mass difference based on twenty pounds of pure muscle that might make all the difference in a fight. And while the Englishman had a black belt in martial arts, Robert came from a large pack known for their violent conflicts. He had to be familiar with a more down-and-dirty style of fighting.
Under her scrutiny, the males squared off. Their reaction was predictable and primal, maybe even inevitable. Their handshake broke. Zach narrowed his eyes, squared his shoulders, and his hands clenched into fists. The room roiled with the surge of power that flowed from him, so his aura swirled with red and ochre, anger and aggression.
In response to the threat Zach presented, Robert assumed a more defensive posture, but his body language was that of a dominant wolf. There was no doubt that he’d respond with violence if Zach initiated a fight.
“Robert, this is wrong. Think about what you’re about to do,” Charlaine said, tone sharp. Her command cut through the tension and set everyone off-balance.
Theresa gasped in dismay, coming to her senses. Acting on impulse, she stepped between the men and grabbed hold of the ambient aura, exerting her presence as a cooling influence over the males. To her shock, it worked and the aggressive fog thinned. Reaching out, she placed a hand on Zach’s chest. She caught his gaze and held it. “Stop, please. I don’t want you fighting over me.”
Robert took a step back. “I don’t want to fight you, my friend. Theresa, no offense intended. You’re a beautiful woman.”
The Mating Game Page 16
