by Lia Bevans
“Connor...” she said, mouth open to scold him.
“It’s fine.” Talia Moore lifted her chin. “He’s been through a lot. A little attitude is expected.”
Connor turned his blue eyes on Chantal with such intensity she wondered if his wolf was already starting to manifest. He took her hand and shook it once as he said, “You have a deal. I’ll let them know where I am next time. Keep your promise.”
She nodded and watched the pair stroll out of the room. Something seemed a little off. Connor’s moodiness rang too loudly to be a symptom of his hunger. He was usually a bright and cheerful boy. Did his personality shift have anything to do with her blood?
Chantal mulled the thought as she strolled down the hallway of the hospital. The muted hush of conversation and click of heels filtered through her mind like white noise. Nurses in baby pink uniforms strolled past, marching with determination and purpose.
Suddenly, everything stilled.
He’s here, her wolf whispered.
Chantal’s body froze mid-stride. Her muscles coiled. Her wolf roused, sending shock waves of excitement through her core. She pressed a hand to her stomach. What was going on? She felt her fangs straining for release. Every nerve in her body tingled.
And then she looked up. Realized in a strained breath. Her wolf was reacting to Blaez.
Again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
BLAEZ CAUGHT SIGHT of Chantal strolling down the corridor. She walked slowly, measuring each step as if she wasn’t quite sure the floor would hold her weight. From this distance—where her sassy mouth and dark glares couldn’t reach him—she looked softer. Sweeter.
It was all an illusion. Blaez was well aware. Chantal’s wolf had done its best to tear him up last night. His size was the only thing that protected him. Blaez smiled to himself, recalling the way she’d fought to help the boy. How did all that fire fit into such a tiny body?
“Whoa!” A voice said. Blaez glanced up in time to spot a nurse scurrying toward him. She bumped into his shoulder, her soft chest brushing against his side. He snaked his hand out to wind around her arm and steadied her.
“You okay?” he asked, giving her a little once-over. Wide green eyes, a sprinkling of freckles and fluffy blonde hair gave her a fresh and interesting face. Pretty, in a farm-girl kind of way. His smile grew wider.
“I’m okay,” the nurse said. Her voice was breathless. She eyed him up and down, her heartbeat skittering out of control. Fingernails painted a soft pink dug into his wrist. She did not let him go. Blaez got the sense their collision hadn’t been much of an accident.
He gave her a dazzling smile for her trouble and then set her aside. As soon as he walked away, he heard her friends flocking to her and peppering her with questions. Looked like she’d been dared to run into ‘Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome’—their words, not his.
Blaez’s wolf purred. Or was that his ego? Either way, this was his normal. For a moment there, he’d almost forgotten what it was like to be admired by women rather than scolded, scorned and, you know, sent to assassinate children.
His stride grew leggier and he dipped his hands into his pockets, laughing softly. When he glanced up again, his gaze locked on Chantal’s. She’d spotted him. But... what was with that expression? His steps slowed. Were her eyes... glowing?
The woman threw her head down and scampered out of sight, disappearing through the doors leading to the stairwell. Blaez jumped into action and tore after her. Something was wrong. Chantal had exhibited total control over her wolf last night, even when she was worried out of her mind about Connor.
He pulled the door to the stairwell and flew down the steps. Chantal’s own frantic escape echoed in front of him. At last, he caught sight of her. She stopped and leaned against the wall, her fingers scraping the cement. Chipped paint flecked to the ground.
“Chantal...” he said softly. Blaez stepped with caution. He could only see her profile in the dimness. Brown hair cascaded to her back, shimmering like a waterfall as she trembled. He reached out to touch her shoulder, lightly pressing his fingers on her shirt.
“Don’t. Touch. Me.” She growled and he backed off immediately.
What was going on?
SHE WAS LOSING HER mind, that’s what was going on. Chantal crumpled her fingers into fists and pounded the wall. Her wolf wrestled within her, clamoring to emerge. Sparklers erupted in her stomach, firing like the Fourth of July.
Then Blaez put his hand on her shoulder.
She barely managed to snap at him to back off before her wolf tried to take control and do heaven knows what to the man. Nothing made sense. Not her wolf. Not her own body. But Chantal couldn’t think about the details yet. First, her wolf needed soothing.
I’m in Belize with Mom and Dad for summer vacation.
Her wolf strained for release, but started to calm as the memories marched through her mind.
The water is clear, blue, blending into the sky.
She breathed through her nose, letting the air out through her mouth.
The sand is hot. Feel it between my toes. I dip my toes in the water.
Her wolf grunted, but allowed her crooning to lure it back to sleep. When she had gotten a handle on herself, Chantal spun and threw Blaez a dark look. Why did her wolf keep responding to this man? Was he some sort of shaman?
“What?” He blinked innocently at her, arms still trapped in the air like a criminal awaiting arrest. “I didn’t touch you.”
She stepped forward and narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?”
He tilted his head, eyelids moving to half-mast. He wasn’t trying to be seductive, yet his thinking face oozed sex appeal. She placed a hand to her fluttering stomach. Get yourself together, Chantal. This time, her wolf wasn’t at fault.
Blaez eased his hands to his sides. “You have my file. What more do you want to know?”
Admitting that simply catching sight of him made her wolf wild did not seem like the route to take. Instead, Chantal folded her arms over her chest and said, “What are you doing here?”
“Here on this earth or here in the hospital? If it’s the former, well, I lean toward the theory of a benevolent Being creating each individual for a specific purpose. If it’s the latter, you should ask your sister. That conversation should be interesting.”
Chantal rolled her eyes. “I’m not in the mood for your lame jokes.”
“Lame...?” He sighed in exasperation. “I’m hilarious.”
This time, her lips perked up despite her annoyance. He was infuriating to the point of insanity, but there was something about Blaez that got under her skin. And it wasn’t always in an unpleasant way. Whatever he was doing to her wolf, it didn’t seem to be intentional.
She could feel herself softening toward him. Chantal steeled her spine. Blaez was the man responsible for setting traps in the woods with the intention of harming their kind. For fun. His veneer of charm and affability was a sham. Deep down, he was cold and cruel.
“Are you okay now,” he said, his voice soft enough to make her last thought sound like a spiteful curse.
“I’m fine.” She swallowed. “When did you see Terry?”
“We met this morning. She gave me an assignment. A big one.” He arched an eyebrow. “Speaking of, how’s Connor?”
“Terry assigned you to Connor?”
“Something like that.” He shrugged. “You wouldn’t be able to point me to his room, would you?”
She rubbed her forehead. “You’re too late. He’s probably already checked out of the hospital by now.” Chantal froze and glanced up at Blaez. “Wait, what exactly did Terry ask you to do? We haven’t even discussed your responsibilities at the center yet.”
Up until this point, she’d doubted that Blaez would be an asset to Wildlife For Humanity. She’d also doubted her organization would be open long enough to make use of him. Chantal admitted she’d been wrong on both counts.
Blaez fighting to keep her from Connor last night revealed that
he knew the very basics of their rules. There was a line that he wouldn’t cross and, for now, knowledge of his boundaries gave her peace of mind.
Hazel had paid her mortgage off anyway. She might as well give in this one time. Chantal would need a good track record with the pack when she admitted to the Council that she had given her blood to a dying cancer patient.
“Chantal...” Blaez mumbled beneath his breath, eyes trained on her head. His expression was as awe-struck as his voice. Her heart fluttered and all the effort she’d put into curbing her wolf crumpled to ashes with that one look.
This time, her wolf refused to be satiated with a mental picture of her last vacation with her parents. Blaez wasn’t helping matters. He strode closer to her, each step urging Chantal to stumble backward.
“W-what are you doing?” she asked. Her back pounded into the wall. The breath left her lungs. Her throat tightened. There was nowhere left to run.
Chantal panicked and turned to the left only to meet Blaez’s hand slamming into the wall an inch from her nose, caging her in. She winced, chest heaving as she fought to keep her hands to her sides. This can’t be happening.
Her wolf battered her chest, aching to touch Blaez. Demanding she touch him. Nuzzle him. Right now.
Her fingers twitched. Her arm rose. She slapped it down and glanced at Blaez, expecting him to be horrified as she—quite bizarrely—lost her mind in front of him. But the handsome shifter was not looking at her.
His hazel eyes surveyed the wall. The hand above her head was pulled into a fist, measuring the hole she had left in the cement. Blaez whistled. “That’s a lot of damage. How could such a little thing like you—?” His words faded when he saw her face.
Chantal’s restraining hand slid off her wrist. Slowly, reverently, her arm floated. She read confusion in Blaez’s hazel eyes, but she couldn’t explain her actions even if she wanted to. Her human-half was no longer in the front seat.
Her fingers rested on Blaez’s cheek, softly rasping the shadow of a beard that gave texture to his tan skin. He startled but did not pull back. Her wolf would have followed him if he had. As it was, the simple touch affected it enough that Chantal could pull to the forefront again.
She snapped her hand back and said, “You had a little something there.”
“I did?” Blaez accepted her words and brushed his cheek. He turned to the wall. “Let’s get out of here before someone sees this dent and starts asking questions. Did you drive today?”
“No, I caught a bus.”
“I’ll take you to the center then.” He nodded sharply and led the way out of the stairwell.
Chantal ducked her head. That was close. She had to be more careful in the future. Her excuse worked today. But there was no guarantee she’d get away with it if something like this happened tomorrow.
WHAT THE HELL JUST happened? Blaez’s footsteps pounded the stairs. The noise was enough to wake the dead and yet the thump of his heartbeat overpowered everything. He nearly stumbled when he recalled the look in Chantal’s eyes a minute ago.
Blaez had never seen anything like it. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that she wanted him. And not just in a one-night-stand, lust-haze kind of way. It was the kind of look that said ‘mine’. Which was crazy.
Far as he knew Chantal would rather chew nails than desire him—whether platonically or romantically.
He could shrug the incident away and write if off as his imagination acting up... if it wasn’t for his body’s reaction in that moment. Something primal unfurled in him when Chantal’s hand touched his face.
It was more than a response to the tension in the air. If he hadn’t turned away, he would have done something stupid. Like kiss her. Or more. And it wouldn’t have mattered if she’d wanted it or not. Which bothered him. A lot.
Blaez wasn’t a rapist. Thought all rapists were scum. And he wouldn’t be averse to ending them all one by one. So admitting that he’d wanted to take Chantal in an empty stairwell because she’d looked at him funny made him feel conflicted.
He didn’t even like her.
What the hell?
“You don’t have to take me,” she said. Her voice broke him out of his thoughts and he glanced over at her. She had stopped on the sidewalk of the hospital. The sunlight turned her dark eyes to a lighter brown. The wind tossed wisps of hair against her pink lips. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t take me.”
“Yeah, well. I’d prefer it if I didn’t want to,” he mumbled.
“Huh?” She gathered her hair and leaned closer.
Blaez squirmed. The baby hairs near the base of her neck made his mouth water. Again... he had no idea where this ridiculous sensation was coming from. What he did know was he shouldn’t be around this woman right now.
“If you insist.” He pulled his shades from the front of his shirt and slipped them on. “I’ll see you later.”
Blaez jogged to his car and left Chantal in the dust.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE JERK! CHANTAL STEPPED back and watched Blaez’s car squeal out of the parking lot. The harsh sunlight glinted off the roof of the shiny blue convertible. The distant purr of the engine was the only thing she could hear as the vehicle turned the corner.
She couldn’t believe Blaez had left her here. Sure, she’d said she didn’t want a ride, but as a gentleman, he should have insisted on seeing her to the center. Or at least given the illusion that he cared whether or not she needed him.
Instead, he accepted her for her word and ran so fast she thought he’d shift into his wolf in front of the hospital building. Anger pounded through her veins. She cursed Blaez with every four-letter word in the book. Her wolf whimpered in disagreement, but Chantal didn’t care.
She’d gone insane for a moment. Because her wolf was acting up, she had entertained the thought that maybe Blaez wasn’t as bad as his first impression had said. Maybe, somewhere beneath all that lean muscle and arrogance, he was someone worthy of her attention.
But now she knew that her wolf was suffering some sort of crisis and had latched onto the first non-geriatric male shifter to enter her orbit. Chantal would set things right at the center and then head to the farm to do some much needed hunting. Her wolf was crying out for some attention.
Ten minutes later, a bus stopped in front of the hospital. Chantal boarded and scored a seat near the front. She squeezed next to a young girl with long brown hair in a green uniform. The woman had a four-year-old in her lap.
The kid was screaming her head off and the mother had obviously given up on calming her. When Chantal sat down, the lady leaned over. “She’s sick and a little tired. If you’d like to sit somewhere else, I’d understand.”
Chantal shook her head. She knew now why the seat had been free when she’d walked in.
“What’s her name?” Chantal asked, raising her voice to be heard over the baby’s cries.
“Camila.” The girl smiled sheepishly when Camila screamed louder. “I’m Mariana.”
Chantal wanted to help. She had a ten-minute bus ride until she could get off and Mariana looked like she was at the end of her rope. Not to mention Camila. The kid was about to bust a spleen. Chantal wouldn’t be surprised if she grew up to be a singer with those pipes.
“Hey, Camila.” Chantal waved. The little girl kept on crying, but at least she was screaming in her direction now. “Can I hold her?” Chantal asked Mariana. The mother gave her permission and Chantal took the little girl in her lap. “Do you want to hear a song my mom used to sing to me?” she asked.
Camila quieted. She had to in order to hear what Chantal was singing.
“Come to me
Trust your heart and see
I want you to know
That I love you so...
Take my heart
Say we’ll never part
I want to live my life with only you.”
By the time she’d reached the second part of the chorus, Camila had settled down. Chantal rocked her softly, until
the baby’s eyes fluttered closed. Mariana looked on in astonishment. When Chantal handed the child back to her, she swallowed.
“How did you do that?”
“The medicine must have kicked in. What a coincidence.” She gently stroked Camila’s hair and then got up. “It was nice to meet you.”
Chantal could feel Mariana’s mesmerized stare on her back as she climbed off the bus and headed down the street. She smiled, thinking of her mother. She would have liked to hear that her favorite song rocked a sickly baby to sleep. Mom was like that. The simplest things made her happy.
A sigh worked its way from her lips. Childhood memories were starting to fade, but she would always remember her mother singing her to sleep. Mom’s voice was honey to her soul, easing the harshest wound. Those precious moments felt like memories from another life.
I miss you, Mom.
Chantal stopped outside the front doors of the center and took a moment to gather her emotions. After a few deep breaths, she pulled the door, sailed into the center and leaned over Terry’s desk. Her sister jumped, eyes flickering the way they used to when she’d done something she shouldn’t have.
“Whoa,” Chantal said, her sensitive ears picking up Terry’s pounding heartbeat. “Did I scare you that bad?”
“I didn’t hear you come in.” Terry drew her hand over her slick hair and composed herself. They’d both reacted to their parent’s death in different ways. Chantal chose to continue her mother’s legacy of helping others, while Terry locked herself up in proper skirts and buns and stayed to herself.
She’d been trying to pry her sister from her shell for years, but Terry inherited their mother’s stubbornness and refused to budge. For the most part, she appreciated their differences. Chantal would have been in even greater debt if Terry hadn’t jumped on board to set her center to rights.
Her sister was the cold, clear head to her impulsive, and sometimes naïve, nature.
