Wolf Trouble

by Paige Tyler

  * * *

  “I didn’t mean to chase you out, Sergeant Dixon,” Khaki said as Mac shooed her big, tall fiancé toward the door.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Mac said, glancing over her shoulder at Khaki. “He was already heading out to the store to pick up more pita chips for me anyway.”

  Outside in the hallway, Dixon turned to give Mac an amused look, his dark eyes twinkling. “You have four bags in the pantry.”

  Mac went up on her toes to give him a quick kiss on the lips. “But you can never have enough pita chips. And you know how much I love them.”

  Giving him a grin, she made a shooing motion with her hand again, then closed the door and turned to Khaki.

  “What can I get you to drink?” she asked as she walked into the kitchen. “We have water, iced tea, soda, or beer.”

  “Iced tea is fine,” Khaki said, then added, “You really don’t need to go to any trouble, you know.”

  Mac smiled at her again. “It’s no trouble. Grab a seat on the couch. I’ll be right in.”

  Khaki took a seat and looked around. Though small, the apartment was nice. While it was definitely decorated with a woman’s touch, Dixon’s presence was obvious in some of the framed pictures on the wall and the automatic weapons coffee-table books.

  “So, what’s going on?” Mac set two glasses of iced tea on a pair of coasters, along with a bowl of pita chips, then sat cross-legged on the other side of the sectional couch. “Are the guys in the Pack being jerks? If so, tell me who, and I’ll set them straight.”

  Khaki almost laughed at the image of Mac laying into Xander while the squad leader stood there nodding politely. But having someone fight her battles wasn’t the reason she was here.

  “It’s not the guys,” she said. “They’ve been great.”

  Mac’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Right. So if everything’s so wonderful, why are you here looking for advice?”

  Khaki picked up her glass and sipped her iced tea. Now that she was here, she wasn’t quite sure what to say. On the other end of the sectional, Mac was waiting patiently.

  Here goes nothing.

  “I’m hoping you can give me a few tips about…how to be a werewolf,” she said.

  Mac raised an eyebrow. “O-kay. Maybe I’m missing something here. You’re already a werewolf. Right?”

  “Yeah, but…”

  Khaki hesitated. Maybe she’d better start at the beginning. So in between pita chips, she told Mac about what had happened that night she’d gotten shot behind the Grace Park apartment complex, about how quickly she’d healed, and about all the crazy things she’d been able to do afterward, admitting that she didn’t even know she was a werewolf until she’d seen the guys on the team shift. With as few embarrassing details as possible, Khaki then went on to describe the problem she’d had in the House of Doors and what happened with her ex-boyfriend tonight.

  “Your ex is here in Dallas?” Mac asked.

  Khaki nodded. “I guess Sergeant Dixon told you about him, huh?”

  Mac shook her head. “Not very much, though I’m glad to hear you dumped him. Gage just mentioned that you’d been in a relationship with another cop and that it didn’t end well.”

  Understatement there. It was nice to talk to a woman who listened to her without judging or trying to fix things, like men always seemed to do. She wanted to tell Mac about Jeremy, but right now, she needed to get her inner werewolf under control.

  “Back to the werewolf thing,” she said. “I’ve seen the guys do it often enough to know that I should have claws and fangs and be able to see in the dark, but I can’t do any of those things.”

  Mac’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute. Are you saying you’ve never shifted at all? No claws, no fangs, no night vision, no…fur?”

  Khaki shook her head. Although to be honest, she wasn’t too upset about not sprouting fur. She had no interest in excess body hair.

  “Never,” she admitted. “My nose works really well, and I’m faster and stronger than any woman I’ve ever seen, but I just figured that maybe female werewolves couldn’t do what their male counterparts could. Then I started arguing with my jerk of an ex-boyfriend and…” She held up her hands and wiggled her fingers. “My fingers started bleeding. I think my claws came out without me even knowing it. Can that really happen?”

  “All the time.”

  “Really?”

  Mac nodded. “You’ve been around the guys long enough to know that they shift when they get pissed, excited, or hyped up, right? Trust me, most of them don’t even realize it’s happening either.”

  “But it’s never happened to me before.”

  “It did tonight.” Mac smiled. “You’re pretty new to this whole werewolf thing. Maybe you just had to get angry enough to let the shift happen.”

  Khaki supposed that made sense. She’d definitely been angry with Jeremy. But while some of the guys shifted a little when they got mad, they could do it when they weren’t angry, too.

  “But how do I control it?” she asked Mac. “How do I get the parts of the werewolf that I want while keeping the other parts hidden? And how do I keep it from coming out at the wrong time?”

  Mac shrugged. “I can’t help you with that. Gage has told me about what it’s like when he’s shifting, and I’ve seen him do it a lot. But we’ve never gotten into the how-to part of it. You’re going to need to talk to one of the guys, preferably one who’s been a werewolf for a while. Gage, maybe?”

  Khaki shook her head, embarrassed at the thought. “There’s no way I can tell him that I don’t know the first thing about being a werewolf. It’s why he hired me. I don’t want him thinking I’m incompetent.” She gave Mac a stern look. “You can’t tell him either.”

  Mac held up her hand. “I won’t, I promise. But you need to talk to someone, sooner rather than later.”

  Khaki took another sip of iced tea as she ran down the list of guys on her squad again. Other than Cooper, Trevor was the only other werewolf with a lot of experience. While she definitely got along with him, she wasn’t sure he’d be very good at teaching her how to be a werewolf. There were several experienced werewolves on Mike’s team, but she didn’t know any of them well enough to ask.

  “Have you ever considered asking Xander?”

  Khaki almost choked on her iced tea.

  “I’m serious,” Mac said. “I know he can be a bit brusque sometimes, but he’s a really good guy. He’s your squad leader and you can trust him to keep anything you tell him in confidence. If you ask, I know he’d help you.”

  Khaki wasn’t too sure of that. She opened her mouth to tell Mac there was no way in hell she’d ask her squad leader for help, but the words wouldn’t come out. Maybe it was her inner werewolf trying to tell her something. Or maybe it was because she knew she had nothing to lose—Xander couldn’t possibly think any less of her than he already did.

  Chapter 6

  Khaki stood outside Xander’s apartment, trying to work up the courage to knock. This had seemed like a great idea when she’d left Mac’s place, but now she wasn’t so sure. Was it too late to chicken out?

  Coward.

  She lifted her hand and knocked. He might not even be home. Maybe she should have called first.

  She was just about to knock again when the door opened. She blinked, the speech she’d rehearsed on the way over disappearing at the sight of Xander. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt that showed off his well-muscled biceps. They were so mesmerizing, she could barely take her eyes off them.

  “Khaki. What are you doing here?”

  While the words weren’t exactly harsh, they were enough to snap her out of her stupor.

  She reached up and nervously pushed her hair behind her ear. “Can I come in?”

  He didn’t say anything for so long, she thought he was going to make her say whatever she’d come to say right there in the hallway. But then he stepped back.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  His apartment had bach
elor written all over it. There was little in the way of décor unless you counted the monster TV mounted on the wall in front of a sectional that while not shabby definitely had that lived-in look. There was a baseball game on, but the sound was muted. All of that faded into the background as the smell hit her. It was like being immersed in a bottle of Xander-scented cologne. It actually made it hard to breathe—without drooling at least.

  “What can I do for you?” Xander asked.

  He’d closed the door but hadn’t moved away from it. He wasn’t making this very easy on her.

  She glanced at the couch. “Would it be all right if we sat down?”

  He gestured toward the sectional, then sat as far away as he could. Maybe she should have taken a shower before coming over.

  Khaki wet her lips. “I know you don’t like me very much, but—”

  He frowned, his brows drawing together. “What makes you think I don’t like you?”

  Had he seriously just asked her that? She let out a snort. “I might be new to this werewolf thing, but my ears work just fine. I heard what you told Sergeant Dixon the first day I arrived about not wanting me on your squad. Since then you’ve made your feelings pretty obvious.”

  Xander had the good grace to look ashamed. He leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees. “Um…about that—”

  She held up her hand. “Let’s just agree to not get into that right now, okay? I didn’t come here to talk about why you hate women cops or whatever your issue is with me. I came because I need your help.”

  His eyes clouded in confusion. “Help with what?”

  Khaki knew it would be easier to just come out and say that she needed him to teach her how to be a werewolf, but instead she found herself telling Xander about Jeremy and the argument they’d had in front of her apartment.

  “Did he hurt you?” Xander interrupted before she could get to the part about her nails bleeding.

  Khaki did a double take at the vehemence in Xander’s voice. He looked so furious, he probably would have snapped Jeremy’s neck if her ex had been there.

  “No,” she said. “And Jeremy isn’t why I’m here anyway.”

  When Xander gave her another confused look, she explained about her bleeding fingernails and that Mac had told her it sounded like an uncontrolled shift brought on by her anger.

  “Has it ever happened before?” he asked.

  She shook her head, then gave him a sheepish smile. “I’ve never shifted before.”

  His eyes went wide. “Never? You’ve been a werewolf for over three months and in all that time, you’ve never shifted, not even by accident?”

  “No.” She shrugged. “Since I couldn’t do it and you and the rest of the team could, I thought that maybe female werewolves didn’t shift.”

  Xander shook his head. “I’m not the authority on female werewolves, but from what Gage has told me, you can do anything a male werewolf can.”

  She didn’t know about that. “I can’t even see in the dark, much less cut loose with all the claws and stuff like you and the other guys can.”

  He stared at her. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

  Khaki lifted a brow.

  He flushed under his tan. “Okay, stupid question. Sorry. But if you can’t see in the dark, how were you able to get through the training in the House of Doors today?”

  She cringed. She didn’t want to admit she’d been breaking the rules, but he’d asked.

  “I used my nose to mentally map out the walls and doors. It took a while though, which is why I was so slow moving from room to room.”

  Xander regarded her thoughtfully. “You can actually pinpoint a person’s precise location in a room purely by sense of smell—enough to shoot them, I mean?”

  She gave him an embarrassed look. “Obviously not very well. I did hit Becker.”

  “Barely, and it doesn’t really matter anyway. At least not when you’re using a paintball gun,” he said. “We all have good noses, but none of us can smell our way through a dark room. It’s frigging incredible.”

  If Khaki didn’t know better, she’d think Xander had just complimented her. She would have thanked him, but he continued.

  “Are there any other special things your sense of smell allows you to do?”

  It should have been a simple question, but it wasn’t. How did she know what special things she could do with her nose when she didn’t know how the guys used theirs?

  “Well, I can pick up every scent around me and remember it,” she said slowly. “Forever.”

  “Seriously?” When she nodded, Xander let out a low whistle. “That’s even more in-freaking-credible than sniffing your way through a dark room.”

  Khaki felt a silly sense of pride at the words. “You really think my sense of smell is that special?”

  “Hell yeah.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure exactly how to capitalize on it yet, but I have no doubt it will be a benefit to the team.”

  She had visions of the guys running her around like a bloodhound. “I’m okay with that, as long as you teach me how to shift like the rest of the squad.”

  He flashed her a grin that made her pulse trip over itself. “Deal. You want to start now, or would you rather wait until tomorrow at the compound?”

  “I kind of hoped we could start now,” she said, then added, “And that we could do the lessons in private. I don’t want the guys knowing how inept I am.”

  He nodded. “That’s fine with me, but you really don’t have to hide this stuff from the Pack. We’ve all been through it to one degree or another.”

  She wholeheartedly doubted Xander or any of the other guys had a problem like hers, but didn’t say so. “I’d rather keep this between us.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Then the first thing you need to do is relax and get comfortable.”

  Khaki was almost afraid to ask what his definition of “relax and get comfortable” was. From what she’d seen at the SWAT compound, the guys didn’t seem to ever relax and get comfortable.

  Xander grabbed the remote for the television and turned it off. “Let’s sit on the floor.”

  Khaki sat cross-legged between the coffee table and the television. Considering Xander had kept his distance until now, she was a little surprised when he sat down facing her barely a foot away. This close, it would be so easy to get lost in those beautiful brown eyes of his.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Close your eyes.”

  She obeyed.

  “I want you to picture yourself running barefoot through the forest.”

  Xander’s deep voice was soft in the silence of the apartment. His low, rumbling tones caressed her skin, making her feel more relaxed than she’d felt in a long time.

  “Imagine the wind in your hair. The soft ground under your feet. The sun on your skin,” he said. “It’s just you and the trees. There’s no one around for miles.”

  Sitting here in his living room, Khaki could almost imagine her feet slapping against a trail, the dappled sunlight touching her face as she ran in and out of the shadows created by the trees.

  “Now feel yourself fall forward onto all fours,” Xander told her. “You’re running crouched over, speeding along the path as your fingers dig into the earth.”

  Khaki’s mind instinctively rebelled. Running on all fours didn’t feel natural. “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can,” Xander said, his calm voice soothing away the resistance.

  She tried again, and this time she rejoiced in the bizarrely strange sensation of running on four feet.

  “The sun is going down now,” Xander whispered, his mouth only inches from her ear, and she didn’t know if the shiver that ran through her was from the sudden lack of imagined sunlight or his warm breath caressing the sensitive skin of her shoulder and neck.

  “The shadows are growing longer, the darkness under the branches deeper,” he continued. “Imagine yourself opening your eyes wider, letting ever
y flicker of light in to fill the darkness.”

  Khaki never would have dreamed that the brusque, demanding squad leader she knew could make her feel so relaxed. But the more he whispered in her ear, the less he resembled her preconceived image of him.

  “It’s dark now, but you can see as clearly as if it’s bright daylight. You’re running through the dark, able to see every tree and rock and leaf around you, and it’s amazing.”

  She smiled a little, unable to help it. In her vision, she was sleek and fast, running tirelessly through a pitch-black forest, leaping over downed trees, big rocks, and small streams. Xander was right. It was amazing.

  “Open your eyes, Khaki,” he entreated in that same soft voice.

  She obeyed.

  Xander was sitting in the same spot he’d been before, a smile on his handsome face. As hard as it was to tear her gaze away from his, she couldn’t resist looking down to see if her claws had come out. But her nails were the same.

  Disappointed, she opened her mouth to ask why it hadn’t worked and realized that the overhead lights weren’t on anymore. Xander must have turned them off when she had her eyes closed.

  The room should have been completely dark, but it wasn’t. She could see everything, from the subtle colors in the rug she was sitting on to the finest features of the hunky guy who seemed to be regarding her with amusement twinkling in his gold eyes.

  “I can see,” she breathed in wonder. “How is that possible? I didn’t do anything.”

  Xander chuckled, the sound deep and sexy as he leaned back on his hands. “No, you didn’t do anything. But you did let something happen. That’s the key. You can’t make it happen. You have to let it come out naturally. Because that’s what it means to be a werewolf—giving yourself up to the animal inside you and allowing yourself to become what you really are.”

  She got up and ran around the dark apartment, laughing like a kid on Christmas. When she found herself in his bedroom, her laugh turned into something lower and more animalistic as the overwhelming scent coming from his big bed told her that Xander Riggs slept in it completely naked. Nothing else would explain how completely his scent blended with the sheets.