Charmed by the Werewolf

by Sandra Sookoo

  “They do say knowledge is power.” Sophia stared at him for long moments, weighing and assessing her options before she wrenched her gaze away to focus on the books once again. Despite of reservations, she grew curious about her host. She’d never had occasion to meet a werewolf before, and now she had a prime opportunity to study one. “I imagine being a werewolf is an inconvenience to daily living.” If she kept the conversation to general questions, she could circumvent stumbling onto hard evidence he was indeed what he claimed.

  Xavier shrugged then stroked his blond goatee. “Although my affliction may be a mild annoyance at times, I’d hardly say it inconveniences me.” Moving slowly, he came around the desk to lean with casual elegance against the massive piece of furniture. The tailored lines of his suit followed every contour of his body. “If you feel uncomfortable talking about me, why don’t you tell me something about you?”

  “That isn’t an option.” She sprang from the sofa, the need for activity over-ruling the need for calm. His interest in her life caused her stomach to clench. The less he knew about her, the longer he’d remain safe. Anxiety skittered through her body when Xavier’s exotic eyes scanned her face as he waited. “I’m just a single, thirty-two year old woman who’s a clerk at Nann’s Gourmet Grocery. I live in the Indianapolis area with a danger-prone roommate, two destructive imps, a renegade pixie, and a ghost I can’t ditch. Other than that, I’m ordinary. It’s my goal in life to ensure I stay that way.”

  “I see.” His gaze never left her face. “Why can you not ditch your ghost?”

  Sophia rolled her eyes. “About five years ago, I needed to make my quota with the Portal Master. I’d heard rumors a rogue paranormal worked at the local theatre so I went and happened to catch Calvin in the middle of a dress rehearsal. Something about bonnie Prince Charlie.” She shrugged, pausing briefly at the flash of pain the memory caused. “Before he knew what was going on, I brought him before Sterling.”

  “I assume the Portal Master killed the man?”

  “Without blinking, actually. He said I’d wasted his time on a weak paranormal representative. Once I returned home, I realized Calvin’s ghost had attached itself to me.”

  “For what reason?” Humor danced in Xavier’s eyes.

  “How the hell should I know?” She didn’t trust the easy way she could converse with this man. “Apparently, he’s there to torment and annoy me. Recently, he’s got it into his head he’d like to court me.”

  Xavier grinned. “Let me put your mind at ease. That will never be an eventuality.”

  “Great, now I’m really not worried.” She drifted toward the bookcase he indicated earlier. The titles on the dusty spines seemed to glow with a soft light. She’d seen many private libraries in her time, but Xavier’s offering was one of the most impressive. Her fingers itched to delve into the literary gems. “I’d appreciate it if we could drop this subject. I’m trying to stay as normal as possible.”

  “That’s a lazy excuse.” His lips curled into a smile. “The fact you live with paranormal beings is an interesting twist to the tale. Is that your perception of normalcy?”

  “It depends.” Caressing the spines of the books nearest to her, she sneezed as disturbed dust drifted through the air. “In my opinion, normal is not a description, it’s merely a suggestion. A state of mind if you will.”

  “And the fact you’re a Gatekeeper in the employ of Sterling Abbignon doesn’t have any bearing on your life?” He chuckled then moved to pour a glass of wine from a carafe on a nearby credenza. “What of the fact you happen to be a Gargoyle, one of the most powerful demi-beings in the paranormal realm? That doesn’t come into play to build your character or define a new breed of what you consider to be normal?”

  “Just because a person is born into a certain birthright doesn’t necessarily mean that person is happy with her fate.” She let out an annoyed sigh and concentrated on some of the books in front of her: Gypsy Curses, What You Need to Know, Living With Lycanthropy, and Resisting the Temptation Within just to name a few. It wasn’t proof, but it was dangerously close. “I have no choice except to work for Sterling. Without him I would succumb to Fate and become a Gargoyle and full-time Gatekeeper.” She faced him as anger and resentment bubbled within to become the old familiar feelings of helplessness and despair.

  “You’re not entirely mortal?”

  “No, only half. Mom was mortal, Dad was a Gatekeeper.” Sophia shrugged. “No one asked me what I wanted to be. Sterling knew of my existence from Dad I suppose.”

  “In order for you to be kept in line, he exacts payment from you by making you execute Being Selection for him. What does he gain from the offerings you’ve brought him over the years?”

  She snorted and waved a hand in dismissal. “Who knows? Power, amusement, boredom? The only thing I know with any concrete certainty is I have no choice in the matter. I cannot function without him and basically he cannot function without me.” Her breath came faster now. If she didn’t remain calm, she would commit the ultimate indignity and have a panic attack. “Damn.”

  “Drink this and concentrate on breathing.” Xavier forced a glass of wine into her hands. Sophia raised it to her lips with shaking fingers. “The logical course of action would be to destroy Sterling—or at the very least remove him from power.”

  She coughed on the dry wine and glared. “That would be fine except for the fact he’d destroy me as well.” She shoved her glasses up, exasperated.

  “You’re wrong about that, my dear.” He guided her to the sofa and settled beside her, twirling the delicate stem of his own wineglass between his fingers. “You’d not be destroyed. You’d become what you were always destined to become.” His golden eyes bore into hers. “Fighting it causes you undue anguish so why not accept your destiny and move forward?”

  “But I don’t want to be a Gargoyle!” Sophia cringed when the exclamation sounded suspiciously like a whine. Images from her teenaged years surfaced in her mind to the time when she had uttered those same words to her parents. “I really don’t.” Surprised and aggravated she’d polished off a second glass of wine, she set the vessel down and slumped against the soft leather.

  “Now you know how I feel.”

  “Our situations are so different it’s almost laughable.” Her skin tingled when he turned her face to his. A long graceful finger lingered on her cheek. Sexy and handsome she could accept and deal with, but his persistence and easy charm would be an issue.

  “Different, perhaps, but very much the same. You were born with your problem and have made a deal with an Under Lord-in-training to stave off the inevitable. I was born into a curse that causes my present difficulties and am doing everything in my power to break the curse. The roadblock I’m encountering is in the form one stubborn grocery clerk.”

  “You hate what you are and want to be something else.” Sophia sighed and closed her eyes. She rubbed her temples to ward off a lurking migraine. “I like who I am and am terrified of becoming what I should be.”

  “Basically, yes.”

  When she opened her eyes, Xavier regarded her with a thoughtful expression.

  “In the interest of my curiosity—and for the advancement of the scientific community—I suppose it would be beneficial to the both of us if you’d give me a bit of background into your curse.”

  His grin was a thing of beauty. Heat flowed into forbidden places when she remembered how those lips felt on hers. “I promise to only reveal enough so the knowledge remains basic facts. You’ll not have physical proof unless you specifically request it. Your conscience will remain clear when we confront the Portal Master.” He paused, for dramatic effect or to marshal his thoughts, she had no idea. “It’ll be my pleasure to accompany you as your mate.”

  “We will not be paying a visit to the Portal Master, now or in the future, and I’m not your mate.”

  “Both matters are debatable.”

  “We’ll see.” Sophia snuggled into the sofa. Xavier really did
own some fine things, and combined with the potent wine, he’d created a safe, drowsy cocoon in her mind that took the edge off the harsh reality of a life of lies. “Fine. Tell me anything you want.”

  “I’m not sure you could handle it if I were to take you literally.” He took a sip from his glass. “My grandfather fought in the Second World War as a young man. While he was overseas touring Europe, he fell in love with a gypsy woman. They courted for months and had planned to marry. The war ended and he came home—with the foolishness of youth, he forgot his promise.”

  “That’s not so extraordinary.”

  A blond eyebrow lifted. “Well, the girl’s family was not pleased my grandfather wouldn’t honor his commitment. The head of the clan vowed to curse my grandfather and all of his male descendants by turning them into werewolves. The gypsy told my grandfather every time his body contorted into that of an animal, he would remember his broken promise and regret his actions.”

  “Typical melodramatic Europeans.” Fascinated with the story, Sophia laid a hand on Xavier’s arm. An electrical current passed between them. She yanked her hand back. “I’m sorry. What happened next?” She flexed her fingers as the brief tingling subsided. Very bizarre.

  “My grandfather chalked it up to a case of sour grapes and continued to live his life as if nothing happened. The first time he shifted forms, he made a snack of his secretary. Scared and horrified, my grandfather fled his hometown in fear. Eventually, he married and had a child. In the course of his life, my grandfather only shifted twice more, or so the stories go.”

  “And?”

  “By the time the Vietnam Era rolled around, my dad had shifted into a wolf numerous times.” Xavier shrugged, stroking his goatee. “It was a different time with no rules, free love, abundant drugs, and war protests. Abnormalities in behavior were widely accepted or overlooked. Since the family lived by themselves on several acres of farmland, Dad’s affliction wasn’t much of a problem. He was the one who discovered he could control when and where he shifted, which was a breakthrough. It wasn’t until their first child came along that things began to change.”

  “You shifted when you were a child?” Sophia accepted the fresh glass of wine he handed her and absently sipped the fruity liquid. “I didn’t think paranormal beings showed their gifts until puberty.”

  “We don’t, and I wasn’t the first born. That was my brother Stephan and up until that point, my brother and I didn’t really believe Dad’s stories. We chalked them up to the ex-hippie lifestyle, something that he’d picked up in a marijuana fog.” Xavier stood and paced around the confines of the library, the soles of his Italian loafers a whisper against the plush carpeting. “My brother and I were inseparable. We pretty much ruled the farm. My parents had interests outside of the property and often left us to our own devices. Stephan and I were hiking through the woods when he turned for the first time.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks.” Xavier sipped from his glass. “We were essentially still kids, just sixteen and fourteen, and we were afraid and horrified. I can recall every disgusting, intriguing contortion of Stephan’s body. He ran away into the neighboring woods and returned three days later.” Xavier paused, a faraway look in his eye. “In his more lucid moments my dad told us of turning into a werewolf, but we just brushed it off as more drug enhanced story telling. In retrospect, perhaps the drugs were my dad’s way of dealing with the curse.” Xavier halted before a bookshelf and selected a moderately thick tome, thumbing through the pages. “I was smart and curious so I started some preliminary research on lycanthropy.”

  “Did your brother kill anyone?” She frowned into the bottom of her empty wine glass and set it aside. “Isn’t that what werewolves are supposed to do?”

  Annoyance shadowed his face. “Sadly, no. Stephan could not come to grips with the fact he was a shape-shifter and took his own life.”

  “How terrible.” Sophia stood on shaky feet and waited for the brief wave of dizziness to pass. “No more wine.”

  “Good always comes from bad. I dedicated my life to trying to find a cure for the disease, curse, whatever. I collected every work published on the subject. I consulted with the wisest people in the world.” He closed the book with a snap. “I’ve tried everything suggested to obtain freedom, and I’ve come up empty handed. I made peace with my affliction until now.”

  “What changed?” Her brain and thought processes disconnected, and Sophia wished she’d eaten something to soak up the excess alcohol.

  “Two things. The first is battling the curse has become more difficult as time goes on, which makes me think something has gone awry with the mechanics of the original spell cast. The second is meeting you. I now have the tools I need to break the curse. The only thing I lack is for you to acquiesce to my request.” He laid the book on the desktop then finished his wine. “Once we do that, you and I can proceed to start our life together.”

  She narrowed her eyes as her vision grew fuzzy. “What?” Sophia stumbled over to him, teetering on her too-high heels. “I told you, there is no you and me.” But, oh, how delicious it would be to explore what would probably be a rock hard body beneath that suit.

  Xavier’s grin was tiny. He caught her as she swayed. “Nevertheless, I need you to agree to take me to the Portal Master.”

  In the alcoholic haze, it seemed like a reasonable request and she was eager to agree to anything the gorgeous man asked. “Okay.” Her marinated brain finally clicked over and admitted a few seconds of clarity. “Damn it! You knowingly got me tipsy so I’d agree to your stupid scheme.” She drew back her hand to slap him, but Xavier was faster than she anticipated. He caught her hand with ease, pulling her to him as if she were made from cotton candy instead of a sturdy Midwestern girl. “You’re no better than Sterling.”

  “My intentions are honorable. I simply thought the wine would relax you so when I told you my story, you wouldn’t be as nervous and edgy as you were before.”

  Sophia’s body grew pliant as the heat from his skin seeped through her sweater, sensitized her nipples. “That’s still a dirty trick.” She smiled up at him, knowing she probably seemed like a lush. “I’m not pleased, and you could very well be in serious trouble.”

  “Truer words have never been spoken.”

  A tiny sigh escaped when Xavier lowered his lips to hers. He nibbled at the corner of her mouth as flutters of excitement played over her spine. He tasted of sweet wine and unfamiliar spices. She was anxious to kiss him again to see if she could identify them. Maybe we could stock those spices at Nann’s. She pressed closer in an attempt to taste those elusive flavors, but he broke the kiss before it could get interesting.

  “Once again, that’s not fair,” she murmured against his mouth.

  The door to the library crashed open, interrupting the short interlude.

  “Everything’s all right. They’re kissing, but Sophia looks really drunk.”

  Mona’s voice was the last thing she heard before she gave into the dizziness that flooded her brain and slumped into Xavier’s arms.

  Chapter Four

  With a groan, Sophia rolled to her side, away from the window and the intrusive light coming through it. The pounding in her head subsided if she remained perfectly still, so she stared at the wall. Lifting a hand that felt as heavy as granite, she searched the bedside table until she located her glasses. Once the world came back into sharp focus, she glanced around, attempting to keep any sudden movements to a minimal.

  She smiled at the tiny blue-stenciled flowers that randomly dotted the subtle lavender surface of the wall. The trailing green stems and vines created a delicate pattern that mimicked the very best Nature had to offer. She narrowed her eyes and concentrated on those vines. With a gasp, Sophia realized they were very real indeed as they writhed and grew along the wall. She grinned, and acknowledged to herself if she didn’t already have a handful of bizarre beings to deal with at home, she’d want a “living” room.

 
It was a soothing enough place, but it wasn’t hers. Panic welled in her chest to clog her throat as she struggled to free her legs from the tangle of the bedclothes. The door opened slightly to admit a dog, which distracted from her momentary madness.

  “Oh, crap.” Technically, the animal wasn’t a dog. Her mind refused to acknowledge the truth. Sophia fought against the acceptance that she saw living, breathing proof of Xavier’s affliction. Whether she believed it or not, the wolf advanced slowly into the room, stopping just shy of the bed to sit docilely on the indigo colored rag rug beside the bed.

  “Go away.” Her head pounded with each word.

  A soft whine was the only answer. The animal sat there silent—waiting and watching—his sandy blond fur twitching.

  “Whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish, I feel I must tell you it will fail.” She eyed the animal warily, and ignored the way its pink tongue dangled out of its mouth or the way he seemed to smile with loads of pointy teeth. “I’m not one of those women who get weak at the knees because a furry animal walks into the room.”

  Amber eyes regarded her. Intelligence and cunning lurked in the depths. The wolf emitted a low growl and a sharp bark then jumped to the bed, resting its front paws on the side of the mattress.

  Emitting a squeak of surprise, Sophia clutched the quilt under her chin and stared, hoping he would disappear. He didn’t. “You win. Obviously, you’re not a figment of my exhausted imagination and you’re definitely not a dream brought on by too much wine.” She propped an elbow on the bed and rested her head on her hand. “Against my better judgment I have to acknowledge you’re more than likely Xavier in doggy form. However, since I didn’t actually witness your change into an animal I still don’t have proof.” She experimentally patted his muzzle, pleased and a bit surprised that his fur was soft and his nose wet. “I’m not a dog person. If I were to keep a pet it would in all likelihood be a cat.”