by Lori Devoti
“You don’t hear it,” she murmured.
His fingers closed more tightly over the metal. She was right. He heard nothing.
“It’s moaning, super low like a broken speaker,” she explained.
Her description intrigued him, matched the steady pulsing inside his palm.
But he couldn’t hear a sound.
And she could.
“This happened before,” he said. “Didn’t it?”
She nodded. “At the motel. It’s how I got the address.” She held out her hand.
He was reluctant to let the device go, as if holding on to it would somehow give him the ability to hear what he couldn’t. But after a second he rolled the cylinder onto her open palm.
She flipped it over, showed him a tiny strip of black. “A number shone here before, a phone number.”
There was nothing there now, but then if Samantha was telling the truth, she already had the number.
“He expects to hear from you,” he said.
She dropped the cylinder back onto his palm and pulled her hand away, tucked it under her arm.
“We need a phone, and not my cell.” He put his foot back on the gas and continued to the destination he’d already been heading toward. Another dive motel. This one made up of little cabins tucked into the woods.
The place that specialized in werewolves had been around for fifty years. It was owned by a husband and wife, both wolves. Caleb had met the man the night of his turn. He hadn’t been kind, but he hadn’t tried to kill Caleb in those first confusing hours, either. Caleb trusted him as much as he trusted any were.
“You want me to call?” Samantha pulled her coat around her body as if it offered some kind of protection. From him or from the zombie doctor, he wondered.
“It’s what he expects, right?”
She nodded.
“Then I want you to call.”
And Caleb wanted to know what was said, wanted to know which of the multitude of suspicions he’d had in the past few days were correct. And who besides the zombie doctor he needed to kill.
Standing in the tiny office of the 1950s-style motel Caleb had driven them to, Samantha held the black rotary dial phone to her ear. With every ring, more tension ran up her back.
Caleb was sitting a few feet away. His gaze was on the fire crackling in the small stone fireplace, but she knew his inattention was deceptive. He was listening and she suspected he’d know if she tried to hide anything. With the receiver pressed against her ear, he should only be able to hear her side of the conversation, but despite the fact that he couldn’t hear the buzzing cylinder, something told her he would hear every word of this conversation. Both sides of it.
The doctor came on the line with no preamble. “Are you at the camp?” he asked.
Her gaze cut to Caleb. He didn’t look at her, gave her no guidance as to how to reply. Without it, she did what came naturally. She told the truth. “No, not any longer.”
“Why not?” The words were terse, laced with impatience.
“Caleb…” Samantha stumbled. She looked at Caleb. He still gazed at the fire. “The woman who runs the place… I don’t think she and Caleb get along.” Or at least not how the aggressive female wanted them to get along, but Samantha kept that clarification to herself.
“But he knew her?”
“Yes.” Samantha could feel the smile at the other end of the line.
“And the cylinder? Was he close when I rang?”
Without glancing at Caleb this time, Samantha replied, “Yes.”
“And?”
She knew what he was asking. She just didn’t know what the answer meant. “He didn’t hear it.”
“Good. Perfect. As I thought.”
The doctor went quiet. Afraid she was about to lose him and her chance to see Allison, Samantha jumped back into the conversation. “What now? I did as you asked and I haven’t seen Allison. Where is she? Is she close?” Her voice rose as she asked the questions. She hadn’t realized how tense she was until then. She bit off her next words and forced her emotion back under control.
“You did and she is. Tell me. Where are you? I’ll send her to you.”
Panic fluttered inside Samantha’s chest like a giant black moth coming to life, but before she could answer and say the wrong thing, Caleb was beside her shoving a note into her hand.
“Right now I’m at a motel, but we won’t be staying here. They’re booked. There’s some kind of…festival or something going on this weekend.”
“Yes, yes. I know. Where will you be?”
“There’s a cabin about a mile from here. The owner agreed to let us stay there, but there’s no phone so I told Caleb I had to call home first.”
“Very smart. Give me the address.”
Samantha read the directions written on the slip of paper. According to what she read, there was no road to the place; she and Caleb would be walking in.
“Be there at midnight tomorrow night,” the doctor told her. “Allison will be, too.”
“But—” Realizing she’d been about to blurt that Allison should meet her here instead, Samantha slammed her lips together.
“But what?” The impatience was back in his voice, and perhaps a shadow of suspicion.
Samantha glanced at the zombie hunter. His gaze was level, his demeanor soothing. She took a breath. “Caleb. What about Caleb? He’ll be there, too.”
The doctor laughed. “Don’t worry about that. It will be the full moon. The hunter will be occupied. Very occupied.” The line clicked and the phone went dead.
She could only stare at the phone, shocked and unsure. Allison was coming to a cabin tomorrow night. A cabin she wouldn’t be at.
Someone pulled the receiver from her fingers—Caleb taking it and lowering it to the phone.
Caleb. Remembering the doctor’s closing words, she stared at him. Occupied. What had the doctor meant by that?
There were lines around Caleb’s mouth, tiny ones that told Samantha without a doubt that the hunter had heard the doctor and that he hadn’t like the doctor’s words any more than she had.
But what did they mean?
The zombie doctor knew Caleb was a werewolf.
Caleb had no doubt of that now.
The cylinder must have been set to some frequency weres couldn’t hear. Caleb had had no idea such a weakness existed. He wondered if Anita did. If so, she had hidden it from everyone else. Weakness wasn’t part of the werewolf recruitment materials; it wouldn’t have played well.
And the camp. Samantha hadn’t been given the ad dress by chance. The doctor, however, must not have known of Caleb’s past with Anita. He must have expected Caleb to be welcomed along with the others, to have been sitting at the camp tonight unaware and too caught up in moon madness to fight back.
But what Caleb still didn’t know was whether Anita was working with the doctor. If she was, surely she would have known of his plan. She wouldn’t have sent Caleb away. She would have put up the act Caleb expected of her and then pretended to come around, forgive him and invite him back into the camp.
And she certainly hadn’t done that.
Maybe he had misjudged her. Maybe the car and new satellite dishes were indeed funded by rich werewolves.
Maybe he wasn’t the only werewolf the doctor wanted. Maybe he’d heard of Caleb, figured out where his hunting abilities came from and planned on taking out any potential future hunters along with the one he already knew existed.
There was one last night before the full moon. One last night of sleep before the wolf inside him clawed to escape, and before the zombie doctor had said to expect Allison.
Caleb and Samantha were in their cabin now. Not the cabin Samantha had told the doctor about. Caleb’s plan was to settle Samantha here, where she would be safe, then visit the old cabin Mike, the owner of the motel, had said was vacant.
Assuming there was some kind of tracker on the cylinder, he would take it with him.
And in case the doc
tor had spies, too, Caleb would be seen coming and going tonight. He would stay there. Then tomorrow he would visit the werewolf camp again and see if he could learn more about their new source of revenue.
What he learned would help him decide his move for tomorrow night.
Go to the cabin to greet Samantha’s “friend” or go to the camp to be trapped by the doctor?
He glanced at Samantha. Maybe he would do both.
He hoped to God her friend was still that—a friend—and not a flesh-hungry monster. But deep in his gut he knew the odds were huge that after the full moon she wouldn’t exist at all.
And that Samantha would hate him more than she had ever hated anyone or anything before.
Samantha waited in silence as Caleb roamed the tiny one-room cabin. The place was dark and ice-cold. Based on the motel’s outside appearance, she was afraid to wander far from the door. She’d flicked the light switch and had been rewarded with no more than an empty clicking noise, but Caleb had strode into the space as if it had been ablaze with light.
Whatever his hearing lacked his sight obviously made up for.
He rummaged with something on the other side of the room. Within seconds she heard the distinct sound of a match being struck and the crackle of something catching blaze. Caleb bent over a small fireplace and blew the flame to life.
The fire and his position next to it made the space seem less small and more intimate. She pulled her hand from the wall, unsure whether to step farther into the space or not.
Caleb stood; the fire cast him in silhouette.
“I’ll leave a gun and a knife. Remember, aiming is more important than firing.”
“You’re leaving?” She took the step she’d questioned only seconds earlier.
He didn’t answer, just turned to poke the fire again, then stood to leave.
She stopped him by moving into his path. “What’s going on? Why did the doctor want us to go to that camp?”
He looked down at her, his expression hard to read and not just because of the dim light. “I won’t be back tonight. Don’t leave the room for anything.” He took a step to move past her.
She grabbed him by the arm. “Don’t.” The word was soft, barely more than a whisper. “I don’t want to be alone.” She didn’t know if she could be. The thought of being stuck in this room, waiting all night with no idea what was going on… She edged closer, until her breasts touched his arm.
She looked up at him. “Stay with me. Please.”
She wasn’t sure what she was asking him—to stay tonight…or forever. Did it matter? she asked herself. Right now she knew that she couldn’t fathom facing a night without Caleb by her side, her body tucked against his, his warmth making her feel safe, human, normal…just for a while.
He turned his body as if to ignore her touch, but under her fingers, his arm trembled.
He wanted to stay with her as much as she wanted him to stay. Confident of that, if of nothing else between them, she rose on her toes and pressed her lips against his.
“Please,” she murmured against his mouth.
He sucked in a breath and his gaze flickered, a flash of wild, out-of-control hunger, so intense she should have been afraid, but she wasn’t. A tremor ran through her, too—excitement and expectation.
Tomorrow night she would know if the doctor had told the truth, if Allison was okay.
If she was, Samantha would leave with her, run as fast and far as she and her friend could. She’d leave Caleb and zombies behind. She would have to. Allison would need her, and that was all that mattered.
But tonight she and Caleb were still a team. As false though that might be.
His hands cupped her backside and he pulled her against his hard form. She could feel his desire against her stomach. He muttered curses and words of admiration against her lips.
Wrapping her hands around his neck, she pulled his mouth down to hers.
Curses or compliments, neither mattered.
Being here with Caleb did.
He kneaded the muscles of her butt, pulled her up so she rubbed over the hardened length hidden by his jeans. She ran her hands down his chest, felt the ungiving planes of his pecs, the rocklike ripples of his abs, marveled again at how any man could be built like him, especially one who didn’t live in a gym.
And Caleb didn’t. He roamed the roads, wild and free, hunting monsters, killing monsters, never settling, never giving up.
She had never met anyone like him.
He spun, twirling her with him, and fell back onto the bed. Less than six feet away, the fire crackled. The room smelled of wood smoke, and warmth flowed over her.
Her palms pressed onto his chest, she rose up and stared down at him. Without speaking, he pulled free the band she’d used to tie back her hair. It fell over her shoulder.
He wove his fingers in its length, gathered it into a bunch and brushed it against her cheek. He seemed fascinated by the locks, as fascinated as she was by him.
She moved her hands to the waist of his jeans and shoved his tight-fitting T-shirt up, baring his skin. With his free hand, he grabbed the material from her and ripped the shirt from his own body.
Then he flipped them over, so he was on top and she was pressed into the mattress beneath him. “I buy them by the gross,” he murmured.
She smiled because she knew she was supposed to, because she knew he’d been trying to lighten the mood, but it was a wasted effort. Her focus on him was too strong, her need to touch him and be touched by him too overwhelming.
She trailed her lips down his neck, to his chest. The smell of the smoke mixed with his natural scent, creating something new and so alluring she could hardly form a rational thought.
His hands, cool against her fevered skin, brought her back to where they were. He slipped her shirt off her body, his touch gentle as if afraid she would bruise just from the brush of his fingers.
“But you…you have a much more limited wardrobe,” he murmured before bending lower and nuzzling her between her breasts. The fire had warmed the room now, but still Samantha shivered. Her nipples hardened and she arched her back, hoping his tongue, which darted out to taste her skin, would find them.
With a groan, he grabbed the stretchy bra and shoved it over her head. “I hate this thing,” he muttered.
And Samantha did, too. Uncomfortable with her breasts free under Anita’s gaze, she had put it on earlier. But now she swore she would never wear another bra that was so difficult to remove—not while Caleb was near.
A chill passed through her at the reminder of their future, or lack of one.
Caleb seemed to sense the change. He tensed above her.
“Don’t. Don’t think. Not now. We can’t afford to. If we do…” He shook his head, the stubble on his chin scraping over the recently freed mounds of her breasts.
He looked down at her. “Don’t. Not now.”
His eyes glowed. It was the fire reflected in them, of course, but at that moment it looked as if the fire were within Caleb, and she felt it, too, burning inside her.
She needed him more than she needed anything and she wasn’t going to let a silly little thing like thinking, knowing what was to come, stop her from having him.
She shoved her hands into his hair and yanked his mouth down to hers. “Love me,” she said.
She regretted the words as soon as they left her lips, but there was no taking them back. The truth of the matter was she wouldn’t have even if she could. She wanted him to love her. Wanted to love him in return. This wasn’t just a meaningless way to pass a night, sex between strangers.
Somehow, inexplicably, this was much, much more.
“I will,” he whispered. “I do.”
Was her mind, her desire, playing tricks? She grappled with the thought, wanted to ask him to say it again, but then his tongue thrust into her mouth and his hands moved to the waist of her pants and all thought of asking him to repeat anything except the delicious feel of his tongue stroking hers or
of his fingers rubbing her thigh fled from her brain.
Chapter 14
H e’d said it. He’d told Samantha he loved her. No, he hadn’t used the word, but he’d said it all the same.
He hadn’t said that to anyone, not for years…a lifetime.
And now he couldn’t take it back. Yes, he could deny it, pretend it hadn’t happened, but his wolf would know. His wolf wouldn’t forget, and the beast wouldn’t let Caleb forget, either.
The damned creature wanted Samantha and he wouldn’t let Caleb rest until he wanted her just as badly, until he would give up his soul to have her.
Or worse, his plans for revenge.
Caleb stiffened at the thought. He couldn’t. But then maybe he wouldn’t have to. Maybe after tomorrow all of it would be over; maybe he would be free.
And maybe he would have killed Samantha’s best friend.
Would she want him to love her then?
“Caleb?” Samantha called to him, a question in her voice and her eyes.
He’d stopped kissing her, grown cold deep inside with the thought of losing her.
Her eyes were soft, confused. Pain was only a few seconds away. She thought he was going to reject her.
He laughed at himself. Reject her? No, that wasn’t the way this was going to play out.
“Caleb?” Her fingers brushed his cheek, soft, caring…worried.
He turned his head and captured her thumb between his teeth, bit down playfully, like a wolf would play with its mate. “I’m fine…except this.” He jerked his belt from his pants and shoved the clothing off his body.
Naked, he moved onto his side and pulled Samantha along with him. He ran his hand down the length of her body, admired the warm glow of her skin in the firelight. “Lithe,” he said. “Like a dancer.” Or a wolf, but he didn’t say that, didn’t voice the obvious comparison of her lean, muscular beauty to that of the creature that ran wild through the forest. “Do you dance?”
He didn’t look at her for a reply. The question was more for himself than her, more to keep his desire in check so he didn’t rush things, throw her onto her back and thrust deep inside her in one fevered, out-of-control plunge.
