Werewolf in Alaska

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  Swallowing her nervousness, she slipped off her backpack and left it on the chair. Then she took a deep breath and looked around.

  The cabin seemed much as it had the other day—ordinary. The layout resembled hers, as she’d noted before. Her grandfather had said the two homes had been built around the same time. Furniture selection was limited in a place like Polecat, so it wasn’t surprising that Jake’s looked quite a bit like hers, too.

  At first she moved tentatively through the house, afraid to touch anything. But within a short time, when no wolf appeared, she grew bolder. Starting with the kitchen, she opened cabinets and drawers in search of mysterious items.

  Nothing turned up. A bottle opener with a wolf’s head on it was the only slightly different utensil, but this was Alaska. Such things could be found in any tourist shop.

  His canned goods revealed nothing, either. Apparently he liked organic cereal with dried fruit and nuts because he had a supply of that. When she opened his freezer she discovered it was full of red meat, but that wasn’t significant, either. Many guys built like Jake enjoyed their burgers and steaks.

  She found fresh veggies in the refrigerator’s bottom section—staples like potatoes, carrots, and onions. Obviously he didn’t live on an all-meat diet. In fact, he had a good variety of food for being a bachelor. He’d stocked in eggs, milk, and cottage cheese, along with several bottles of Spruce Tip Ale. She left the kitchen feeling no wiser than she had before, but calmer. So far there was nothing scary about Jake’s place.

  In the living room, she rummaged through his DVDs and discovered no werewolf movies in the mix. His bookshelf contained paperback mysteries, some science fiction, and a few non-fiction books on hiking trails in Alaska. Then she saw a book she recognized because she had one just like it at home. It was titled Alaskan Artisans of Today.

  She was featured in that book, which was only about six months old. Why would he buy an expensive coffee-table book that included pictures of her and her work, yet be so determined to give away her original wolf carving? Maybe he’d read something about her in the book that had turned him off.

  Flipping to the section devoted to her, she found a folded sheet of notepaper. It looked vaguely familiar, and when she opened it, she blinked in surprise. Instead of ignoring her note, as she’d imagined, he’d saved it. Even more astounding, he’d saved it for a couple of years before placing it in this book.

  These weren’t the actions of someone who was indifferent to her, or who had tired of having her work in his house. She didn’t know if Jake was a shape-shifter or not, but he was definitely more complicated than she’d originally thought.

  Replacing the book, she moved into his bedroom. The atmosphere here was so potently male that she caught her breath. Testosterone oozed from the oversized bed with its massive peeled log bedposts and huge mattress. She’d been drawn to it the first time she’d walked into this room, and now she had the luxury of being here without supervision.

  Giving in to temptation, she walked to the side of the bed, leaned over it with her arms outstretched, and slid up onto the mattress. She let her feet dangle off the edge, but the bed was big enough that she could have lain crossways on it, no problem.

  With her cheek resting against the soft comforter, she breathed in Jake’s scent. Too bad her interaction with him had become so damned confusing and strange, because she’d felt chemistry between them from the beginning. Rubbing her cheek against the material, she imagined lying here with Jake as sexual awareness hummed deep in her belly.

  Well, this was pleasant, but it wasn’t getting her any closer to the truth about Jake Hunter. After levering herself off the bed, she smoothed the comforter back into place. Then she opened his nightstand drawer, fully expecting she might find a package of condoms there. Many guys kept them handy by the bed.

  No condoms. But she found a notepad, a couple of pens, and underneath that, a slim paperback titled Down with Dogma: Benefits of Were-Human Cooperation. She held the book for several seconds as her heart thudded wildly and her brain struggled to make sense of what she was seeing.

  With trembling hands, she opened the cover and scanned the first page. The word werewolf leaped out at her as if surrounded with blinking lights. She seemed to be holding a treatise of some kind that had been written by a werewolf.

  Or perhaps the author, Duncan MacDowell, was pretending to be a werewolf. It could be a spoof. In fact, it probably was. She was panicking for no reason.

  But as she thumbed through the pages, she discovered the text had been marked up, apparently by Jake. Spoofs didn’t usually prompt people to do that. They read the jokes, laughed, and passed on the funny book to the next person. They didn’t underline and write notes in the margin.

  Her heart rate picked up again. The book was for real. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she had some ideas. Sinking down to the bed, she drew in a quivering breath and began to read.

  Eventually that position became uncomfortable, but she couldn’t stop reading. Her eyes still glued to the pages, she nudged off her shoes, turned one of Jakes gigantic pillows on end, and scooted up on the bed. She leaned back. Much better.

  She was halfway through the book when a soft sound penetrated her deep concentration. She glanced up and nearly fainted from shock.

  Jake stood in the bedroom doorway.

  She stared at him for what seemed like forever as adrenaline pumped through her veins and flushed her skin. He looked every inch a man—an extremely virile, travel-rumpled man. He’d pulled his dark green shirt loose from the waistband of his jeans, as if he’d needed to be more comfortable on the drive home from the airport.

  Concern was etched on his rugged face, but she saw no menace in his expression. He didn’t seem angry to discover her trespassing on his property. She had the odd thought that of the two of them, he might have more to fear than she did.

  Slowly she closed the book before sliding to the edge of the bed and putting both feet on the floor. Then she swallowed in an attempt to remove the metallic taste from her mouth. “You’re back early.”

  “So it seems.” His voice sounded as rusty as hers felt.

  Looking into his green eyes, she searched for answers. “Who are you, Jake?”

  “Your across-the-lake neighbor.”

  “And?”

  “You tell me.” But his resigned expression indicated he knew the game was over.

  She felt light-headed as she balanced on the brink of a truth she’d never imagined could be possible. “I think…” She paused to lick her dry lips. “I think you save careless women from ferocious mother bears.”

  “Maybe.”

  She sucked in a breath. He hadn’t denied it. “Instead of asking who you are, should I ask what you are?”

  That sparked the anger she might have expected earlier when he’d first caught her going through his things. “I’m still a who, Rachel. Regardless of what form I take, I’m a creature with a soul and a conscience. I’m a thinking being at all times. I’m no monster.”

  She’d hurt him. What an astonishing thought. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t very sensitive of me to say.” She gripped the book tightly in both hands, needing something to hold onto. “But give me some credit for not becoming hysterical, okay?”

  “I wouldn’t expect that of you. Anyone who leads a full-grown wolf into her bedroom and dresses his wounds isn’t the hysterical type.”

  Her pulse quickened. “So you really are a…” She couldn’t make herself say it. The idea seemed too preposterous, even with the evidence all around her.

  “A werewolf. Yes, I am.”

  She took several quick, shallow breaths and managed not to faint. “Wow.” She didn’t really believe him. Not yet, anyway. Such things took a while to sink in.

  “And I would give anything, all I possess in this world, if you’d never found that out.”

  Fear skittered up her spine for the first time since he’d arrived. “Because you’re going to kill me?”
r />   “No! God, no. I could never hurt you.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “That’s a relief.” Her laughter was edged with the hysteria she’d denied feeling seconds ago. “I was afraid you might walk over here and break my neck with one easy twist.”

  “Damn it, I saved you from the bear! How could you think I’d kill you?”

  “Because I know too much. It happens all the time in movies. You might not want to kill me, but it’s the only way to guarantee my silence. It’s not, by the way,” she added quickly. “I can keep a secret.”

  Jake sighed. “You might think so, but this is one hell of a secret. Keeping it won’t be easy, and the repercussions if you don’t…Let’s say the stakes are extremely high.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “You have no idea. This kind of security breach isn’t supposed to happen. We take great care to make sure humans have no idea we exist.”

  “Just how many of you are there?”

  He squeezed his eyes shut. “Damn.”

  “How many, Jake? Six? Twenty? Thousands?”

  When he opened his eyes, his gaze was bleak. “The less you know the better, so I’m not going to answer that question.” He hesitated, as if choosing his words very carefully. “This really is not good, Rachel. I blame myself, but unfortunately, you’ll suffer the consequences, too.”

  The fear returned. “Like what?”

  “I don’t know yet.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

  “If you don’t, who does?” She’d been so pleased with her relatively calm reaction to finding out her neighbor was a werewolf, but his uncertainty about her fate was creating a panicky feeling she might not be able to control much longer.

  “Never mind. But whatever happens, I promise I won’t turn you over to the Were council.”

  “There is one?” Her voice went up an octave.

  “Shit. Forget I said that.”

  “Does this Were council kill people?”

  “No. For God’s sake, quit talking like that. Weres don’t kill. We have a bad reputation thanks to horror novels and Hollywood, but we’re not killers. We’re protectors.”

  She really wanted to believe him. “But you mentioned something about me paying the consequences. Forgive me if I’m a tad bit worried.”

  “Then let me explain, at least a little. Now that you’ve discovered I’m a werewolf, I can’t let you waltz out of here as if nothing happened.”

  She nodded. “Exactly, so the easiest thing is to wring my neck. But you don’t seem to want to, so what’s the alternative?”

  “One option is taking you as my mate.”

  “What the hell?”

  “I didn’t say I was going to do that. It’s one option.”

  Heat sluiced through her. She couldn’t tell whether it was from indignation or sexual excitement, but she chose anger over arousal. “Sorry, buddy, but that doesn’t happen in my world. In my world, the woman has a choice in the matter, and no male, no matter how hairy, gets to declare that he’s going to take me. Got that, Jake?” His proposal was primitive and it was wrong. But not without appeal, damn it.

  “I get it, Rachel. Believe me, I’m no more eager to choose that option than you are.”

  “Why not?” Now she was insulted.

  “I have a deep and abiding conviction that Weres should never mate with humans.”

  Yes, she truly was insulted. “That’s not what Duncan MacDowell says.” She held up the book she’d been reading. “He thinks it’s a swell idea.”

  “Duncan MacDowell is an idiot.”

  “That explains all the notes in the margins. You were marshalling your arguments.”

  “I was.” He cleared his throat. “So mating with you is out, which means we have to come up with a different solution.”

  “Great.” Putting MacDowell’s book on the bedside table, she grabbed one of her shoes and began loosening the laces so she could get it back on. “Let’s sleep on it. I’ll be in touch.”

  “You misunderstand.” His large frame filled the doorway, blocking her exit. “Until we come up with that solution, you’re staying with me.”

  Her jaw dropped. “You’re holding me prisoner?”

  “I’d rather say I’m detaining you for your own good.”

  “How is holding me prisoner going to be for my own good?”

  “Let me put it this way. You know enough to be dangerous. If you were to escape, I’d be obligated to report that to the Were council. They would dispatch other Weres to find you and detain you.”

  “You mean hunt me down?” Breathing grew difficult as she imagined being chased by werewolves.

  “In a sense.”

  She shuddered.

  “I’m assuming you’d rather stay here with me than go through that.”

  “Well, duh. How about I leave and you don’t report me because you trust me? I’m a very trustworthy person. Ask anyone.” She got one shoe on and started working with the laces of the second.

  “Can’t.”

  “I’ll take an oath, sign in blood. I have some pictures of me naked in a wading pool. You can have them for blackmail purposes. The idea that you’d show those pictures around will keep my lip zipped forever, guaranteed.” She tied her second shoe.

  A hint of laughter flickered in his eyes. “How old were you in those pictures?”

  “Four.”

  “I’d like to see those sometime.”

  “Let me run home and get them!” She stood. “I’ll leave my wallet here as collateral. I’ll –”

  “Sorry. You’re not going anywhere. Not until I figure out a plan.”

  She blew out a breath. “This is freaking unbelievable.” That tiny flare of humor in his gaze made her feel a little bit better, but not much.

  He shrugged. “I’m not any happier about it than you are.”

  “Sounds as if we’re in for a lovely evening, then.”

  “It is what it is.”

  “Guess so.” Be careful what you wish for, she thought as she gazed at him. She was about to spend several hours in lockdown with the man who fueled her fantasies and he hated the prospect. Also—small detail—he wasn’t a man.

  Chapter Ten

  Jake had been in tight spots before, but he’d always figured a way out of them. This fuck-up with Rachel could turn out to be the granddaddy of all exceptions. Although he did his best to project calm acceptance of an unfortunate situation, he was a mass of nerves.

  On top of that, he was hungry—for food, mostly. But the minute he’d walked into his house and discovered it was filled with Rachel’s scent, he’d become hungry for something far more complicated, something a simple dinner wouldn’t take care of. Finding her propped up on his massive bed had tested his willpower more than anything had in years.

  He needed to get her out of his bedroom, pronto, before he did something really stupid and seduced her. She might not be seducible, of course, but he had a gut-level feeling that she was. His instincts were sharply honed in that regard, and Rachel was giving off little sparks of interest in between her bursts of outrage. Her scent had changed subtly, too, ever since he’d confronted her.

  Having her stay with him for the next few hours would be easier if he kept them both far, far from that bed while they worked on a solution to this gigantic problem. He took most of the responsibility for the mess they were in, but she sure as hell hadn’t helped.

  Damned nosy woman. But he’d been afraid she’d grab the chance to poke around his place looking for the wolf. He should have anticipated that and locked his door. He couldn’t help admiring her tenacity and concern for another creature, though, even if she had landed them both in hot water.

  Hands on her hips, she stood watching him. “Now what?”

  “I could use some dinner. Have you eaten yet?”

  “No.”

  “Hungry?”

  She paused as if thinking about it. “A little.”

  He turned from the doorway. “Then let me thaw a couple of steaks
for us.”

  “Um, you know, I’m really not that hungry, after all.”

  He pivoted to face her again. “Would you rather have something else? I think there’re some chicken breasts in the freezer, or I could –”

  “No, you go ahead. I’m more tired than hungry. You eat, and I’ll stretch out on your bed for a little while and rest.” She sat on the edge of the bed and untied her running shoes.

  He gulped. “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?” She glanced up.

  “Take anything off. I mean…don’t take a nap…on my bed.”

  “I won’t mess it up, Jake. I admit I rearranged your pillow while I was reading, but I’ll put everything back the way I found it. Sheesh, I didn’t know you were such an anal neat freak. It’s not like I’ll get under the covers, if that’s what you’re worried about. Never mind. I’ll just…relax in the living room.”

  “I’m not worried that you’ll mess up the bed.” If only she knew how much he wanted to mess it up with her. He switched back to the safer topic of food. “It’s just that I thought you were hungry, and suddenly you’re not. It’s kind of late, and you said you haven’t had dinner, so surely you want something to eat.”

  She leaned down and fussed with the laces of her shoes. She made a big production out of it, almost as if she needed something else to concentrate on so that she didn’t have to look at him. “Maybe I’ll have something later.”

  “Want me to grill your steak so you can have a steak sandwich when you’re ready?”

  She finished with her shoes and stood. “Please don’t fire up the grill on my account. Go ahead and eat. I’ll have some of your fruit and nut cereal if I get hungry.”

  So she’d checked out the contents of his cupboards while she was at it. But that wasn’t the most significant thing she’d said just now. He finally understood her reluctance to eat with him, and he was both horrified and amused. “You think I’m going to eat my steak raw, don’t you?”

  Keeping her expression carefully neutral, she nodded. “But there’s nothing wrong with that,” she added quickly. “You should be allowed to eat whatever way you want in your own home.”