“Not a problem.” He gazed at my mouth and licked his lips. “Do you want me to give you a ride home?”
I was grateful, but I’d also been creeped out enough for the evening. “I’ll be fine. I have someone staying at my house, so I won’t be alone.”
I turned away to look for my keys on the ground.
He offered them to me and said, “This may seem awkward, but even with what’s happened tonight I did have a good time.” I offered a small smile as he cocked a wide grin. His pale skin contrasted starkly with the deep color of his eyes.
“Yeah, before the dead waiter showed up we had some pleasant conversation.”
He blurted, “Don’t worry about our first waiter.” He made a gesture toward the restaurant. “I made sure the boy’s in good health.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Quinton might drive a Death Mobile and reanimate the dead, but he did have gentlemanly tendencies. “That’s good news. ’Cause, boy, did he deserve the tip I left him.”
“That he did.”
Our conversation died away so I took a step back. “Thanks for an interesting evening, Quinton.”
As he walked away he whispered, “It was my pleasure, lady. See you at work tomorrow.”
I jumped in my car and gunned the vehicle out of the parking lot. The screech of my tires offered minimal comfort as I sped home.
The ever-optimistic Aggie saw my wild eyes as I entered the house. “Are you all right?”
I pulled off my shoes and mumbled, “I don’t even know where to begin.” The heat in the house didn’t prevent the chill running over my skin. The familiar stacks of boxes didn’t offer me their usual comfort. Such trinkets couldn’t fire guns.
“Did he try to cop a feel or something? I told you—necrophilia.”
“Actually, he was plenty interested in my flesh-and-blood body. But he wasn’t the worst thing I had to endure.” I sat down on my couch and rested my face in my hands. “I got big problems, Aggie.”
She plopped down beside me, but her presence didn’t push away the feeling of Clive’s hands on my body. I whispered, “The Long Island werewolves are here. And they’ve marked me for extermination.”
* * *
With the threat of death hanging over my head, I wasn’t surprised when Thorn called me a few hours later.
“I heard something happened. Are you all right?”
By this point, I was calm, but Aggie relieved my fears by standing guard in my living room.
“Yeah, you didn’t need to call.” Yes, I did need to hear his voice, but I wouldn’t admit such things.
“I need to finish another sweep of the area, but I’ll stop by your place later to check on you.”
I sat up in my bed. “I’ll be fine, Thorn. Aggie’s keeping me company.”
“I’ll still check anyway. This kind of attack was unexpected. I need to figure out why they’d come for you.”
Based on what Clive had said, maybe they wanted to clear out the weaker wolves first. Cull the herd. Oh, God. Would my grandmother be in danger next?
“I’ll see you in a while.” I heard the dial tone.
I thought I’d lie there and wait for him, but I drifted to sleep.
Dreams blended into reality as I woke up with a pillow pressed against my face. My breaths came out in gurgled gasps. Close to my ear I heard Rex’s deep voice purr, “About time the exterminator came by to take out the trash.” I thrashed and struggled until I woke up again covered in sweat.
His words continued to reverberate through my mind. He’d called me out as a rogue wolf a week ago. It’s a damn shame he held just as firmly to the events of the past as I did.
A quick glance at the clock told me I’d slept for a few hours. Damn nightmares plagued me to no end when I was stressed. And when my stress increased, my insomnia did too. After an hour or two I became an advertiser’s dream. Up late and itching to buy, I usually whipped out my credit card to forget my troubles. Instead of getting up to watch TV, I adjusted the pillows and curled into a ball. After a night like tonight I needed sleep.
But the sounds of fingers scraping my window open alerted me to danger. I was turned away from my window and I couldn’t stop myself from shutting my eyes and whispering, “Please go away.”
Where was the brave wolf who’d raced out of her house to face Aggie while she trampled her flowers? That wolf had had her life threatened by the Long Island werewolves, thank you very much.
My breath quickened. They’d come for me in the late night to finish what they’d started. I bet Aggie had fallen asleep with the bag of Cheetos she thought she’d hidden from me.
Hands touched my shoulders as someone crawled into my bed. I tensed for the first strike. Somehow, the warm hands suppressed my jump. They circled my torso as Thorn whispered, “It’s me. You’ll be all right.”
He held me close and then turned me around to envelop me in his arms. “Go to sleep, Nat.”
“You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that.”
“I thought you were fast asleep until I saw you move when I came in.”
I rolled my eyes. “After the evening I’ve had, you think I wouldn’t be on edge?”
“I’m sorry about that. I thought the pack had more time.”
“Evidently not.” I remembered Clive’s hand gripping my arm and shivered. The wolf in me wanted to rip him to shreds. Instead, the frightened human spoke. “I don’t know if this place is safe anymore.”
He placed his hand on my cheek. “I won’t leave until I know you’re safe and asleep. Lie still and rest.”
With him beside me like this, did he expect me to sleep? I squirmed.
Against the crown of my head, he chuckled. “I am a man, and I do get turned on. I’d appreciate it if you’d go to sleep and not move like that.”
I suppressed a grin as sleep drifted back into my body. When he relaxed, my fingers slowly moved down his arms.
He breathed in deeply and whispered, “Don’t do this to me. You know I’m meant for another.” His voice was ragged and thick with desire, but I felt like I’d been doused in cold seawater.
Bitter and rejected, I swallowed and wanted to push him away. So close, yet so far away. Another reminder that he would belong to Erica one day. Then why was he in my bed right now? Holding me close to the point that I knew our heartbeats matched.
No one from my family called asking what had happened. South Toms River wasn’t a megametropolis, though. The information would leak out and everyone would be told before dawn. Even worse, Erica would know Thorn had come to my bed.
Yet I’d only heard the phone ring twice. And none of the callers had asked to talk to me. Who had Aggie spoken with?
Silence prevailed as my bottom lip trembled. I wouldn’t cry. Not with him beside me. Did he know how much he tormented me?
Eventually, I fell asleep. When I woke up the next morning to the incessant chirps of my alarm clock, an empty spot remained where Thorn had lain. I curled up in my covers and couldn’t suppress the stream of tears. A pain churned within my stomach, searing and sharp, when I glanced at the indentation in the bed. The space was warm, and the bereft feeling in my heart speared my senses. I rubbed my nose against the pillow, where his scent lingered.
His shampoo and subtle cologne flowed through my nostrils. It wasn’t fair. I was making an effort. Would all my work be in vain?
Work that morning was a chore for once. After Aggie dropped me off, with stern instructions to not leave for lunch, I began cataloging new arrivals. Saturday mornings, after the initial rush for the best products, tended to be quiet and tranquil, with just a few out-of-town visitors passing through.
But nothing could have prepared me for the storm that was Erica Holden. A wave of expensive-smelling perfume followed her into the market. A few of the male patrons followed her with their eyes. As a powerful female, she walked with a strut. When she strolled across the room, she moved with a purpose. From the way Bill watched her ass, her purpose today was most lik
ely being eye candy.
She made a beeline for the customer-service desk—just in front of the business office where I worked. Instead of marching straight in, she waited by the desk. Her manicured fingernails clicked again and again on the display case glass. She knew I worked on the other side of the closed doors. She also knew I’d understand that she wasn’t here to sample shiny wands. Under normal circumstances, a woman like Erica wouldn’t be caught dead in a place where one bought “used” stuff.
“Natalya, I need to speak with you.” Ever the lady, she called me out without ringing the bell for service.
I left the office without conscious thought. Damn higher-ranking females.
Her aquamarine eyes followed me as I walked behind the service counter. I met her eyes once and immediately averted them. I knew my place.
“I heard about what happened to you last night.” She paused for a moment as if she expected me to say something. But why should I? Erica wasn’t stupid.
“With the Long Island werewolves coming in to take over our territory, it’s important that Thorn focus on the good of the pack. Distractions, such as the one that involved you, are unfortunate, but shouldn’t occur. Your family has been part of my pack since before I was born. It would be a shame for them to get hurt due to your actions.”
If smugness were a fragrance, Erica would reek of it. She didn’t offer a smile. But if one could call her facial expression something, I’d call it a smirk.
“This is your one and only warning. Stay away from Thorn. He won’t always be there when you call.”
I wanted to bite back that I hadn’t called Thorn. But such words to someone like her were quite imprudent. Instead I said, “And what if Thorn comes to see me?”
“He won’t. We’ll come to an agreement regarding people like you.”
People like me? My fingernails cut into my palms. Where the hell was the woman who’d stood up to the harpy? That woman has the sense to know that there’s a big difference between a pushy harpy and a werewolf who’d take me behind the store to rip my throat out.
“Do we understand each other?”
I nodded faintly and continued to avoid her eyes.
“I expect you to speak when spoken to. Is that clear?”
Now she poured it on and went from uptight bitch to a word that even I won’t repeat for fear of a virtual smack from my grandmother. “Loud and clear,” I mumbled.
Erica prepared to leave, but then paused and smiled. “Thorn belongs to me. Don’t cross me.” Her sneer merged into a smile that could’ve been covered in cotton candy. With a quick dab of lip gloss, she left the place as if all she’d done was share secrets with a girlfriend.
One shopper waved in her direction and greeted her warmly.
“Damn bitch,” I muttered—after she was a safe distance away.
Part of me wanted to sulk and hammer the idea into my head that I should just forget about Thorn. The wolf within, though, didn’t want to go down without a fight. It hungered to claim him as its own.
But how could I ever compete with a woman like Erica?
Chapter 8
Are you sure you’re ready for therapy? That’s a big step.”
Aggie’s concern touched my heart, but after the fiasco with Quinton and the attack from the Long Island werewolves, I needed to take a positive step toward sorting out my life.
I had to come to terms with the fact that hoarding had negative side effects. Buying ornament after ornament wasn’t normal behavior, but somehow part of me felt that it was right. As I gave the Home Shopping Network my credit card number, I reveled in the delicious shiver within my belly when I knew my holiday cheer was on its way.
Aggie finished preparing the Monday morning coffee. “Do you want me to go with you tomorrow afternoon? It’s not safe around here.”
“I’ll be careful. I’ve made several trips to Dr. Frank in the past. Another trip won’t hurt.”
She shrugged and headed into the kitchen to work on a pot roast. My mother had invited her over for dinner. At first, Aggie had refused since I wasn’t invited. But my mother told her point-blank that the dinner was meant for matchmaking—with Alex. I guessed he hadn’t told my parents that he’d possibly impregnated a tree nymph.
Before I left for work, the phone rang. I ignored it since I was on schedule—that was why the answering machine was invented.
But as I placed the key in the ignition I noticed that Aggie didn’t answer it either. Perhaps she saw a telemarketer on the caller ID and decided not to answer. Curiosity compelled me to wait for the answering machine.
I strained to listen and heard a man’s gruff voice say, “Miss Stravinsky, I’m calling in regards to Miss McClure. My employer, Mr. McClure, is searching for his daughter.” Then some mumbling that I couldn’t make out, and then a new voice interrupted the previous one. “Aggie, if you’re there, pick up the phone. It’s Dad. Look, I know you’re angry with me. We can work it out. Just give me a call.” Then the line went dead. Aggie didn’t pick up the phone, and I had a feeling she never would.
There would be plenty of time for me to ask Aggie what was up between her and her father. But, as of right now, I had work and my own issues to tackle.
As the day became evening it proceeded well. Since I hadn’t been invited, I told Aggie I’d stay at home, but with a rough tug she pulled rank and told me I’d have to come with her.
“You are not staying alone in this house.” She growled, “That’s a direct order.”
My eyes widened, and I marched to my room to freshen up. Aggie hadn’t pulled rank in years. From my bedroom, I cried sarcastically, “Friends don’t let friends pull alpha rank on them.”
“Too bad. Request denied.”
Thirty minutes later, we pulled up to my parents’ house.
“Aggie, do you really want to date Alex?”
She shook her head. “He’s not my type in the least. Especially since he may have knocked up a tree-frolicking nymph.” With a grin, she pushed the pot roast into my hands. I saw the evil glint in her eyes and smelled ulterior motives.
“What plans are you brewing?”
We left the car. Before I turned the doorknob, she said, “If you want to change your life, then you need to reunite with your family. This is part one.”
I huffed. “Good luck with that one.”
We entered the house to find everyone settled at the long dinner table, with a single empty space next to Alex. My mother saw me enter holding the pot roast. None of her body language indicated malice—only curiosity. Her gaze then went to the matchmaking victim.
“Glad you could join us, Agatha.” She touched Dad’s shoulder. “Could you fetch another seat for Natalya?”
My father nodded in my direction. At least my parents could be civil even though I hadn’t been invited.
I placed the pot roast on the table and leaned over to my grandmother to kiss her cheek. With both hands, she grasped my face and returned kisses on each cheek.
“Looking good, Nat,” said Alex before he took a gulp of his wine. He’d dressed in business casual, as if to impress my parents, but we all knew he’d just discard the tie later to gallivant off to the local bar and scope out girls.
After placing a napkin in my lap, I peered across the table to see Aggie ogling the smorgasbord. Her meager pot roast was dwarfed by the roasted pig my mother had skewered. The braised skin was so shiny I could see Aggie’s wide eyes reflected in it. I couldn’t resist a chuckle. A few more dinners, and Aggie might want to marry into the family solely for the food.
Everyone passed around their bowls so my mother could scoop thick vegetable soup into them. Pleasantries about the day’s events turned into slurps and smacks. (For werewolves, food etiquette only goes so far.)
As everyone ate, I hoped I wouldn’t have to contribute to the conversation. What could I say?
In his deep, booming voice, my father opened with, “Looks like the poor economy has hit PharmTech.”
I shif
ted my gaze to my dark-haired father, by far one of the largest werewolves I’d ever seen. For the past few years, he worked as a prized machinist at one of the local factories. As usual, he sat quietly eating his wife’s food and scratching the shiny bald spot on his head.
“I thought that was a rumor,” Alex said.
“I wish I could say that, my boy, but I’ve heard layoffs are coming. Our educated brothers will lose their jobs and leave rogue werewolves roaming about for food.”
This wasn’t the first time the area had been affected by a downturn. I remembered when my father lost his job in the eighties. My mother still refused to discuss what my father had done for the organized crime groups in Atlantic City—the nights when he came home with the stench of death ground under his claws. I wondered from time to time if his turbulent past was a distant memory.
Alex wiped his mouth with his napkin and raised his eyebrows at Aggie. (As if she cared.) “Things will bounce back. Five years ago it was the mill. Before that we lost the shopping center.”
Aggie’s head swiveled like a lug nut on a rusty screw. “What do you think, Nat?”
Of course she picked the perfect time to drop-kick me into the fray. With four bites of ham in my mouth I managed, “There are jobs out there. People just need to be willing to work outside their comfort zone for a while.”
The click of utensils and eating filled the silence before my father replied, “That’s true. But it’s hard for a father of four pups to support a hungry family on a cashier’s wage.”
Alex pushed the food around on his plate. “I’m sorry about all this matchmaking, Aggie. My family is a bit pushy.”
“No need. I came here for the food.”
I about choked on my ice water.
He turned to our mother. “Why not hook Aggie up with cousin Yuri? Doesn’t he call here every fifteen minutes?”
I finished my drink and poured another. “There’s no one with a pulse who’d want to deal with him.” Well, there was that harpy. Maybe she’d con people less if she had less free time to ogle antiques.
My mother tilted her head. “What’s that noise?” I dropped my fork and then heard it. The dull crash of glass breaking outside.
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