Howl of the Wolf hc-4
Page 3
“Works for me. I can always have a brownie and a latte while I’m waiting for you.” For such a tiny person, Jessica had an enormous appetite and sweet tooth. Her friend rummaged around in her large tote and pulled out a four-foot strand of semi-precious stones, beads and metal charms, which were spaced about two-inches apart for the length of the cord to create a lariat-style necklace that could be worn in various ways. “Here, take this. It’s been blessed for warding off evil.”
Sabrina shook her head. “It’s beautiful, Jess, but that necklace is one of your most expensive, and I can’t spare sixty bucks right now.” The stones glittered in the morning sunlight, their sheer beauty driving back her shadowy thoughts of the night before.
Jessica shook her head. “It’s a gift. The purple stones are amethyst, the pink ones rose quartz. There’s regular quartz and agate as well. All of them are good for warding off negativity and evil.” She stood in front of Sabrina and wrapped the length of cord once around her neck before loosely tying the dangling ends. “The beads and charms have been chosen because they’re protective. I blessed it too just last night. Didn’t know why I did, but I do now. It was meant to be yours.”
“Jessica,” she began, but her friend shook her head.
“No, do this for me. I can’t stop the dreams from coming, but this is one small way I can help.” She smiled. “That and by cleansing your apartment later and doing a protection spell.”
Tears pricked Sabrina’s eyes. Her friends were the best in the world. Other people might laugh at her or dismiss her dreams, but not Jessica or Tilly. They not only believed her, they wanted to help her.
She hugged Jessica, wrapping her arms around the much smaller woman. The scent of Jessica’s vanilla perfume made her think of cookies and home. It was the smell of comfort and protection, of all things good in the world, and she inhaled deeply before releasing her friend. “Thanks. You’re the best.”
“I know.” Her dry reply made them both laugh.
Sabrina picked up the long strands of gemstones and beads and admired the necklace. It really was a work of art, and she’d cherish it forever because of the sentiment behind it.
“You can wear it as a bracelet too if you want. Just wrap it around your wrist and tie the end.” Jessica picked up another long strand and showed her what she meant.
“I think I’ll leave it as is for now.” She felt better having the stones and beads wrapped around her neck. Right or wrong, she felt more protected and less vulnerable than she had when she left her apartment this morning.
A group of four women, obviously professionals from the way they were dressed, stopped in front of her paintings. While three of them studied the various canvases, one of them pointed at her necklace. “Your necklace is absolutely gorgeous. Where did you get it? I’ve got to have one.”
“Funny you should ask.” Sabrina smiled and pointed toward Jessica’s table and the display of jewelry. “This is the wonderful woman who crafted it.”
The women shifted their attention to Jessica’s table and Sabrina watched as her friend sold all four women jewelry, including two of the lariat-style necklaces. Jessica caught her eye and winked at her while she continued to chat with the women. Her friend was a natural saleswoman, never pressuring a customer to buy, yet most of the folks who stopped at her table purchased something. She simply had a special touch.
Luckily, she often got the overflow from Jessica’s table and vice versa. It was only one of the many reasons they liked setting up next to one another. They also watched each other’s wares when one of them went to get something to eat or drink or to take a bathroom break. She’d often sold jewelry for her friend and there were times she’d come back with a fresh cup of coffee only to find several of her paintings had sold. When things were quiet they chatted as they worked on new pieces for sale. It worked out well for both of them.
Sabrina touched her necklace one final time as she took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Slightly more relaxed, she picked up a charcoal pencil and began to sketch her friend in action. No more dark drawings for her. At least not today.
Chapter Two
Sabrina loved working at Café Ledet, both behind the counter and when she did card readings. The crowd was always eclectic and never failed to entertain and inspire her. It was a welcome supplement to her art career, which was growing nicely. She’d had a good day in the Square and had sold five larger paintings as well as two-dozen art cards that she’d had printed of some of her more popular pieces.
Days like today always made her feel good, but a late buyer had left her running slightly behind schedule. Not that she was complaining, as the guy had laid out three hundred dollars for one of her new canvases. She’d managed a quick trip home to drop off her gear, change her top and grab a salad before hurrying back to the café for her night job.
Tilly had left to run an errand but had promised to be back by the time the café closed at nine. As promised, Jessica was sitting in a corner reading a book while she ate a brownie and sipped not a latte, but an iced coffee. Sabrina checked her watch. It was half past eight. Only thirty minutes until she was done for the evening.
She’d had three readings tonight, which wasn’t bad for a Wednesday evening. There was always a bigger crowd on Friday and Saturday nights, but she preferred to work the weekday nights for those who didn’t like to come downtown on the busier weekend evenings. Tilly let her set up and do readings in a corner table, not charging her for the space or asking for part of her fee. To Tilly’s way of thinking, if folks came in for a reading, they would always buy something to eat or drink before or after their reading. And ninety percent of the time they dragged a friend or two with them and they bought something as well.
The arrangement worked out great for both of them. Café Ledet was well known for having a tarot reader there six nights a week, so she wasn’t the only professional working there in the evenings. There were two other women who came in two nights a week to do readings as well. Sunday evenings were reserved for live music, usually a solo performer with a guitar.
The art on the wall was available for sale and Tilly got a commission for whatever she sold. That was more than fair to Sabrina’s way of thinking. She studied the paintings as she absently shuffled her tarot deck. Tilly had two of her pieces left, but it was probably time to swap them out. After a while, the regulars stopped noticing the canvases if they weren’t changed. She’d do that tomorrow when she stopped by for her morning coffee.
The low hum of the music and conversation soothed her as she continued to shuffle the cards. The long, warm day in the Square coupled with her restless night had left her drowsy. She yawned and glanced at her watch again. Twenty-five minutes left.
The café closed at nine on weeknights and eleven on the weekend. Tilly would be back soon and then the three of them would head around the corner to her apartment. She hoped whatever Jessica had in mind would work. She could use a night without dreams.
Her eyes were heavy and she closed them to rest a moment. She swayed to the jazzy music drifting out from the stereo speakers, letting the music soothe her soul. Her surroundings melted away. Shadows filled her mind but quickly parted to reveal the bayou. Some folks found it scary out there, but she loved it, always had.
The cypress trees were heavily laden with Spanish moss, giving the entire area a ghostly appearance at night. Marshy grasses sprang up under her feet. The world was alive with the music of the bayou as the sun sank in the distance, bathing the land in its dying colors. The grasshoppers chirped, insects buzzed and the bullfrogs sang their nocturnal song. Something flew overhead, probably an owl or a bat, and in the distance she heard a splash as something entered the water.
The pathway before her was familiar, one she’d walked most of her young life. Her grandmother was gone, but the little house and the land on the edge of the bayou were still there, still called to her when she needed to get away from the noise and business of the city. Now they belonged to her.
Sabrina continued walking but paused to pick up a sturdy stick from the ground. It would work to flick away a snake if she came across another one. The air was thick with moisture and the atmosphere seemed to close in around her, the scent of water and slightly rotting vegetation mixed with the sweeter perfume of the irises and other wildflowers that edged the path.
Why was it taking so long to reach her grandmother’s?
Frowning, she stopped and turned in a complete circle to get her bearings. There was no doubt she was on the right track, but she didn’t seem to be getting any closer to her destination.
The frogs and insects suddenly went quiet and the night seemed to hold its breath in anticipation. The animals that populated the swamp went silent, neither moving nor vocalizing. Something had disturbed them. Was it a cougar? They were rare in this area, but they did make their presence known from time to time.
The air in front of her seemed to coalesce and she could make out a shape in the near distance. She increased her grip on the stick, ready for anything. It wasn’t an alligator as it was too high off the ground.
A low growl made the short hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stand on end. Whatever it was, it was big. She took a small step back but paused when the growling got louder and closer. She couldn’t run. To an animal, anything running was prey to be hunted. All she could do was stand her ground, pray and wait for her opportunity to escape.
The necklace warmed against her skin and the tattoo on her back began to itch. It felt as though it was trying to shift position on her skin, which was impossible. She’d experienced the sensation several times before in her life, always at times when she was either in great danger or a life-changing event was about to occur. Either way, it left her even more unsettled.
A bead of sweat trickled down her back and, in spite of the moist heat making her clothing stick to her skin, chill bumps covered her arms. Two eyes glowed in the thickening darkness, the overhead canopy of dense branches and vines making it harder for the dying rays of the sun to peek through. She swallowed past the lump of fear in her throat. “Who’s there?” Not that she expected an animal to answer her, but hearing her own voice gave her courage.
She held the stick out in front of her, pointing one end toward the animal. “Go on now. I don’t want any trouble.”
The low growl was more menacing than anything she’d ever heard, and she had to force herself not to turn tail and run. Whatever it was, she couldn’t outrun it. The house wasn’t close enough for her to reach before whatever was out there would be on her.
It moved and caused the dry grass to crackle beneath its feet. The heavy panting got louder. It was coming toward her. The shadows shifted like a curtain opening to reveal the creature. Oh, it was magnificent and terrifying all at once. It was the largest wolf she’d ever seen, too large to be real.
Loup Garou. The words drifted through her brain, chilling her to her very core. Was it a werewolf, a man in the guise of a wolf? She’d grown up on such tales and half-believed them. She’d lived in the bayou too long not to believe. There were things that happened here that defied rational thought and explanation.
“I’ll leave. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” She took one step back but stopped when the beast threw back his head and howled, exposing razor-sharp teeth. The mournful sound pierced her heart and brought tears to her eyes. The beast sounded lonely.
Great. Now she was losing her ever-loving mind, thinking she could understand a wolf by the way it howled. The creature lowered its head and sniffed the air, prowling ever closer. Her skin prickled and every instinct she possessed was screaming at her to run even though she knew that would be a fatal mistake. She held her ground and tightened her grip on her makeshift weapon.
The enormous creature stopped three feet in front of her and she could make out the animal’s markings and coloring. The wolf’s thick coat was a mixture of gray and black, making it blend easily with the environment. Eyes dark as midnight stared back at her. The beast was thick through the shoulders with long, sturdy legs and massive paws. She’d never seen anything like him in her life. The urge to reach out and touch him was almost overwhelming, but common sense and self-preservation kept her from following through with the act.
The wolf was studying her as closely as she was studying it. They stared at one another and she felt a connection to the great beast, which would be totally insane for most people, but not for her.
She’d only been a child when a wolf much like this one, only not nearly as large, had appeared before her in the swamp, rescuing her from the attack of an alligator. When she’d told her granny what had happened, the old woman had stared deeply into her eyes, nodded and declared that the wolf was her spirit guide, her protector. For an orphaned child, the wolf had been the strong guardian she’d needed to keep the bad thoughts and feelings of abandonment at bay. It also gave her a connection to her dead parents through the last name they’d shared with her.
But she was an adult now and hadn’t seen any sign of the wolf in a very long time. The creature suddenly snarled, flashing sharp teeth that could easily rip through flesh and bone. Sabrina’s hands trembled. Indeed her entire body was shaking with fear. She locked her knees to keep from stumbling.
“Nice wolf.” She kept her voice low and, she hoped, unthreatening. “Don’t eat me.”
The massive beast suddenly whirled around and stared deep into the shadowy trees. His fierce growl sent icy rivers of fear snaking down her spine. She sensed something else had joined them, something evil that seemed to expand, growing larger and larger with each passing second until Sabrina wanted to scream.
The wolf kept its back to her, facing whatever was coming their way, its attention fixed. She flexed her fingers around the stick, wishing it were bigger and sturdier. Hell, she’d love a hunting rifle right about now, maybe even something more powerful.
The wolf snarled again, and whatever was in front of them seemed to pause for a moment before slowly backing away. Neither she nor the wolf moved for long, agonizing minutes. Finally, the insects began to hum and the frogs began to croak, and she knew the evil had passed them by.
Whatever had been there was gone.
She heaved a sigh of relief, ignoring the racing of her heart and the sweat covering her skin. She was safe.
Then the wolf whirled back around to face her once again. Oh shit, she’d almost forgotten the beast was wild and not some tame pet or her protector. Black eyes bored into her very soul, as if weighing her worth as a person. It was disconcerting to say the least.
The large black and gray head tipped back and a mournful howl ripped through the air. The wolf suddenly turned and slid between two large trees and was swallowed up by the swamp.
Sabrina’s knees gave out and she dropped her stick, sank down onto the path and lowered her head. She couldn’t help but feel as though she’d dodged a bullet, escaped a rather ominous fate. She took several deep breaths before her head stopped spinning and her heart slowed down to a fast gallop.
The sound of half-rotting leaves scuffing in the dirt brought her head up quickly. She grabbed the stick, which was thankfully within reach, and pushed herself to her feet, ready to face whatever new threat awaited.
She had to get out of here, get to her granny’s house where it was safe. Why she thought she’d be any safer there, she didn’t know. It was instinct and she’d always trusted her intuition. It had never led her wrong.
The Spanish moss parted a few feet off to her le
ft and a man stepped out onto the path. And what a man he was. He stood around six feet with broad shoulders and a wide chest. He was shirtless, which allowed her to see his muscled pecs and washboard abs. The guy was wearing only a pair of supple leather pants that clung to his strong thighs. He was barefoot too, not seeming to notice or care about the branches, rocks and insects beneath his feet.
But it was his face that held her spellbound. Even though dusk had closed in around them, she could see the hard line of his powerful jaw, his thin lips, his straight nose and broad forehead. His cheekbones were prominent, giving his face a sense of uncompromising strength. His eyebrows were dark slashes above deep-set eyes as black as midnight. Thick lashes added to the overall impression of darkness.
“Why are you here?” The deep rumble of his voice vibrated through her, plucking at her insides, leaving her feeling unsettled.
“Why are you here?” she countered, taking the offensive. She was a tall woman at five-ten, but this guy was massively built with an air of masculine confidence and power surrounding him.
He frowned and she had a feeling it was his normal expression. “You will answer me, woman.”
Her hackles went up and she cocked one eyebrow at him. “Will I?” Maybe it was dangerous to bait him, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Something about him disturbed her in a way no other man ever had. She’d known plenty of good-looking, confident, sexy alpha-type males in her life—after all, this was the South. Heck, she’d even dated a few. But none of them had left her feeling so aware of herself as a female as this man did.
She couldn’t blame her pebbled nipples on the cool night air, as it was actually quite warm, the air close and heavy with moisture. And she was doing her best to ignore the throbbing ache between her thighs.
His frown deepened, if that was even possible, and he studied her, his gaze flowing over her body from the top of her head all the way to her bare feet. He moved toward her, his gait flowing and smooth, like an animal on the prowl. He circled her slowly and she moved with him, always keeping him in front of her.