"But, I don't belong at a small, intimate gathering with your pack."
Marco took a step closer to me and placed his hands on my shoulders. He was warm and his touch burned into me, but the full moon was still over a week away.
"You belong wherever I am,” he spoke softly and his rough sexy voice raised the fine hairs on my arms.
After a few moments he seemed to take my silence as an agreement to stay.
"Besides, Luther's here.” He smiled.
I had to admit it would be nice to have a chance to catch up with Luther. I wondered what he'd been doing for the last ten years. Besides being a werewolf, I wanted to know what else had changed about the boy I used to know.
Marco opened the door for me and I stepped inside. The music thumped as usual to a variety of songs with sexual overtones. In place of the normal flashes of strobe lights, the building was lit by large hurricane lanterns. I licked my lips as I watched the horde of werewolves gyrating on the dance floor. Though I'd never known any lycans on a personal level before, I'd begun to notice that they were a touchy feely group. They didn't grope people. They just seemed to like to brush against them.
Before I could join them, Luther danced over holding two large drinks. He was wearing solid white. The tight vinyl pants were flattering to his long legs. The matching shirt looked like a white version of the one that Marco wore. It hugged his every curve. Yes, Luther was hot, but when he smiled at me I still saw my childhood friend behind those icy blue eyes. His long white blond hair was braided neatly down his back, strongly resembling a whip.
"Would the lady care for a drink?” he asked.
I took the glass he offered with a smile.
"That's a hurricane,” he explained needlessly. “But, be careful, it's really just a lot of rum and a little food coloring.” He winked.
I pushed the pineapple and orange slices from the rim down into the glass and stirred them around before eating the pineapple. After I took a sip he asked, “Would you like to dance?"
Before I could accept, he turned to Marco, “With your permission,” he added.
Marco nodded with a smile, but I was confused. It must have shown because Marco then explained, “Since I've asked you to be my mate, a lesser wolf must ask permission to dance with you before I do."
I didn't like being treated like a piece of meat. But, to have pointed that out would have undermined Marco's authority. Since I was in a room filled with his loyal supporters, that wouldn't have been a good thing. Luther didn't seem to take offense at being called a lesser wolf, and since it looked as if I would have to stay the night I just wanted to keep the peace. I offered Luther my hand with a smile and he led me onto the floor.
Club Red's first floor is a huge open room with tables scattered around the walls. The dance floor is slightly lower than the rest. Two steps down and you were there. The wolves moved in close around us, but honestly didn't seem to care about me being there. The dance floor was just that full.
As we moved, nearly elbow to elbow with the rest of the wolf pack, there were moments when I started to think of Luther as more than just a friend. Every time I found myself watching the way his hips flexed when he moved, he would speak to me and ruin the illusion. He was gorgeous, but he was still just Luther.
Luther and I had worked up a good sweat by the time we made our way back to where we'd left our drinks.
"So, are you staying the night?” he asked.
"It looks that way.” I gulped down nearly half of my drink and was prepared for him to comment further on the prospect of me staying with Marco. However, he made no assumptions.
"Good, maybe we can catch up some."
Luther sat down at a table near the door and asked, “Where's your friend?"
"She didn't come.” I didn't feel like explaining that I had no idea where Kat was and felt slightly miffed about being abandoned for that Charles fellow.
During the next hour or so, I found out that Luther was divorced. Actually, his ex-wife was the one who'd attacked and turned him. He'd accidentally killed her in the struggle.
"That was when I met Marco. He took me under his wing, showed me the ropes."
"So, you think he's a nice guy?” I asked.
Luther looked very serious as he replied, “Lilith, that man kept me from killing myself.” Luther's expression said clearly that he would not tolerate me bad mouthing Marco.
"When I first met Marco, he was a Hunter,” I explained. “The next thing I know, he's the enemy. And now ... I don't know what he is."
His expression softened. “I understand."
Just then, the DJ had finally had too much to drink and began to play oldies. People began backing off the dance floor, some with a mumbled, “What the hell?” But, one of our favorite songs started to play, Luther and I both laughed and ran to the floor. We proceeded to pull off a combination of some really terrible disco moves and head banging. Ok, so maybe neither one of us had grown up completely. Who cared? It was fun.
As I saw Marco coming back downstairs the power went out. A collective howl rose from the crowd and someone yelled, “Party!” It was the drunk DJ who then stumbled and fell from behind the platform he was on. I didn't even want to know how much alcohol it took to get a werewolf that drunk and stupid.
"That's gonna leave a mark,” Marco said from behind me and I jumped.
The lights flickered back on and he smiled. “Why don't we go upstairs?"
Luther took that as his cue and quickly excused himself to help the drunken werewolf with a murmured, “Vodka is a many splendored thing."
"Aren't you supposed to go to the lowest level of a building during a storm like this?"
"This building is very well reinforced and has been through several hurricanes,” he said. “Besides, I want to get a bath before the power goes out completely."
"Where are you going to take a bath, standing on the fire escape in the rain?” I asked sarcastically.
"That sounds like fun,” he drawled. “But why don't we go to my apartment?” again, he didn't exactly ask a question.
"You have an apartment upstairs?"
"Right this way."
Marco led me up the stairs, placing his hand gently in the curve of my back. It was a subtle, but possessive gesture. The touch was intimate without being sexual, and that was what I liked about it.
I followed him through the same red door we'd gone through before and into the second red door that led to his office. He walked over to the bookshelves behind his desk and turned to the one along the left wall.
"You know, no one else knows how to get into my apartment."
"Then why are you showing me?"
He gave me that grin again that made me glad I wasn't a sheep.
"Just in case you ever want to come back."
I watched as he lifted a copy of Call of the Wild from the shelf and pressed an indention in the wood behind it. The bookcase slid to one side to reveal a staircase.
He motioned for me to go first, and I did so warily. When we reached the first step, I turned back. “But if no one knows how to get here.... “I broke off.
"Exactly.” He pressed another indention near the staircase. The wall began to close as he let loose an evil laugh that would have made any super villain proud. Marco laughed again at the look on my face, “Relax, I'm not going to hurt you.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Besides, if I had any intention of abusing you, I wouldn't have taken you up here in front of everybody."
"But you're their alpha. Won't they go along with whatever you say?"
He sighed wearily. “I seriously doubt that Luther would stand by and let me harm you."
I held my ground and didn't move another step.
Marco sighed again as he said, “Would you prefer to stay downstairs?"
I thought it over for a minute before answering, “No."
"Then follow me."
The top of the staircase opened directly into Marco's living room. It was a large loft style apar
tment covering nearly the entire space with one expansive room. There was a half wall divider that separated the kitchen and a massive dungeon style door at the far end.
The walls had been torn away to display the faded reddish brown brick beneath. The floor was made of old wooden planks that looked well taken care of. I had only seen windows like his in pictures before. They were made of wrought iron and consisted of at least fifty small square panes each. The glass was double paned, but had been taped over because of the storm, just in case. The color scheme matched that of his office. The windows were adorned with lush red, expensive looking drapes, each with a large golden cord to pull them shut. Tall iron candle holders were scattered about including a few candelabras, all holding soft cream colored candles. A fireplace stood near the entrance along the same wall as the hearth in his office. This one was not marble, but was made of the same brick as the walls. In front of the fireplace was an empty patch of floor that needed a rug.
The room was divided by the placement of the furniture into three areas. The space near the fireplace had a long, dark leather sofa draped with a cream blanket that looked to be made of fur. Matching cream colored pillows were thrown at odd angles across the leather. In place of a matching chair, there was a massive scattering of faded red and gold pillows. This tied in with the piece along the mantle. There, a faded red peapod shaped basket with black iron accents held a collection of cream, brown, and gold décor balls. Beside this lay several boughs of crooked willow dyed a deep crimson, and layered with pussy willow.
In the far left corner stood a lamp that looked like an odd flower curving over a tan suede chair and ottoman. Like the one downstairs, this chair had a crimson blanket thrown over one arm and draping over part of the floor. With its back turned to the fireplace and the small reading area, sat a blood red love seat with faded gold, almost bronze colored pillows. This area in particular drew my attention, for on the wall in a large space between the windows hung an enormous painting of me.
I stood so that only my back and the left side of my face were visible. To my chest I clutched a long crimson piece of material which seemed to flow over the canvas. It draped around me so that my entire back could be seen, stopping just short of indecent exposure. My head was tilted slightly downward as if I were in the process of turning back to someone who stood behind me. The painting was so life like that I expected to see myself finish that turn at any moment. A tall ornately carved candle holder stood on either side and I was tempted to light them, just to see how the painting looked with the soft illumination.
"Do you like it?"
Marco's voice brought me from my reverie and I noticed that I was standing only a few feet from the painting. Glancing back, I thought it was a miracle I hadn't tripped over the coffee table. I turned back to the painting and reached out with trembling fingers to touch the massive gold frame that held it.
"It's beautiful,” I breathed.
Part of my hair was swept down and part upward, giving my image a slightly disheveled look. But the beauty in the painting was timeless. She had the same ethereal glow that I'd glimpsed through Alfred's eyes, and a presence that made you want to fall to your knees.
"This can't be me,” I whispered.
"Of course it is,” Marco answered gently from behind me.
"But, I don't look like this,” I said in awe.
"Don't you own a mirror?"
"Yes ... but this is not what I see."
"You should look more closely,” Marco whispered his rough voice close to my ear.
"I never knew you were an artist."
"I'm not,” he confided.
"But ... how?"
"Mathias. He told me where to find the canvas and what paints to buy. He said that if I would use this canvas, it would show me the deepest ... most intimate desires of my heart."
I turned to face Marco and found him only a breath away. He looked blurry and I realized that I'd been crying. I was moved beyond words.
"What did you expect?” he smiled gently. “A plan for world domination?"
I smiled weakly and tried to control my urge to embrace him. I didn't love Marco, but I was really beginning to like him.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Fifteen
Lightning split the sky and I was suddenly aware of the viciously howling wind.
"We should hurry on that shower,” he pointed out.
"We?"
Marco laughed, “I didn't mean together. Although, I'm not opposed to the idea, if you prefer."
I glared at him.
"Or, maybe not,” he added.
I followed Marco to the dungeon looking door at the far end of the loft. He swung the door open to his bedroom. My attention was immediately drawn to the gigantic four poster bed in the middle of the room. It had to be larger than a king.
The floor around the bed was slightly raised, so that it took two steps up to reach the mattress. The comforter was a magnificent scarlet embroidered with thousands of delicate gold vines. The bed was filled with pillows of all shapes and sizes in a mixture of red and gold. The massive canopy that hung over the bed was the same beautiful scarlet trimmed in gold. The bed curtains had been pulled back and tied to each of the four corners of the bed by large golden ropes.
There was another bookshelf to the right of the bed and another door that I assumed led to his closet. When I looked to the left, I paused. Standing in the left hand corner of Marco's bedroom was a beautiful gilded cage. There was a swing inside that looked as if it were waiting for some massive bird to perch atop it.
"You have a cage in your bedroom?"
"It's just for looks,” he shrugged.
"I don't want to know,” I said quickly.
Hearing about Marco's sexual perversions was not the best choice of subject for me.
"Where's the bathroom?"
"This way.” He motioned to the open door on the wall, past the cage.
Marco's bathroom was beautiful.
"I'm impressed.” I smiled. “Most men don't appreciate a tub like this."
With my last words, I walked over to the large tub that sat in the middle of the room. Like the bed, it was elevated slightly. The tub looked to be made of black marble, which matched the counter top of the double vanity to the left. In place of one long mirror above the sinks, there were two mirrors, oval shaped and ornately framed in a dark, almost black wood. The cabinets underneath the sinks, as well as the linen closet along the wall were stained a deep mahogany.
Above the tub was a circular rod which held a beautiful red curtain. Upon closer inspection, I saw that it was silk and embroidered with many leaves and vines. Against the back wall was a walk-in shower that matched the same honey colored ceramic tiles of the floor.
"It's not my business, but how do you afford all of this?"
"Well, I was a Hunter for about a year before my attack, which as you know is good money.” Marco leaned against the door frame as he continued, “I saved, invested and bought this building that has turned into a very successful club. Besides, all of this wasn't done at once. The bathroom was only just completed this past winter."
"When did you open the club?"
"About four years ago."
"How come I'd never heard of it?"
"You just didn't come to the right part of town.” He smiled.
I sat on the rim of the tub and began removing my boots.
"Are you gonna watch?"
The grin he gave me made me wish I hadn't asked.
"Never mind.” I sighed. “Forget I asked."
"Just inside the shower, there's a little space where you can get undressed before stepping under the water,” he informed me.
I looked in the shower and found what looked like a walk-in closet covered with tile. Beside the entrance there was a seat built into the wall. I started to slide my skirt down when a thought occurred to me.
"Are you going to stay in here?"
"If you'll hand me your clothes, I'll see
that they're washed."
That got my attention. I leaned around to look at him and found the same wolfish grin as before.
"You expect me to hand over my clothes?"
"Yes.” He smiled and stretched out his hand.
I glared at him.
"And then I'm going to light the candles.” He sighed. “And I'll keep my distance, but I'm not leaving the room."
"What am I supposed to wear?"
"I'll find you something.” He grinned.
My glare grew more fierce.
"Something decent,” he added.
"Fine, but how will I know where you are?"
"I'll sit in a chair beside the door."
"Talk to me,” I said, handing him my skirt.
I retreated back around the corner, stripped as quickly as possible and flung my clothes out the door in Marco's general direction. As I moved quickly behind the half wall that separated the little seat from the shower, I heard him laugh softly.
"Don't use all the hot water, Red."
After a minute or so of adjusting the water I heard the distinct sound of a zipper and a belt being unbuckled.
"Marco,” I said, almost frantically.
"Yes?"
He did sound as if he was near the door and my heart slowed down just a little.
"You're not talking."
"What do you want me to say?"
"I don't know ... What did you do after you were a Hunter?"
"I was a shepherd."
"Alright smartass, you pick the subject. But keep talking. I want to know where you are."
He sighed. “Alright ... the tub."
"Yeah?"
"Well, you mentioned most guys not liking a tub that big. It's not that I'm a prima donna or anything. Shapeshifting can sometimes be a messy business."
"Gross."
"Hey, you said to pick a subject."
I opened a bottle of shampoo and breathed in Marco's scent. Normally it would have aroused me, but tonight it was a comfort.
"I've got a subject. You said before that once in a great while a wolf is born with powers like mine. When was the last time something like that happened?"
"I honestly don't know. It's so rare that it's only a legend really. For all I know, you may be the first. There's no proof otherwise."
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