Object of My Affection

by Tracey H. Kitts

“I understand. There are a lot of things I’ve seen that I wish I hadn’t.” He sighed. “Red, I can’t leave you on a bad note like this. How was your visit with Sam?”

  I was glad for the change in subject, but surprised that he didn’t already know the answer to that question.

  “You mean he didn’t tell you?”

  “Sure. He reported back that you were safe and all was well. He also made it very clear he was not my spy and if I wanted to know more I could ask you.”

  “I knew I liked him.” I laughed.

  I shared with Marco most everything. Of course I left out our intimate conversations about my life and the fact that I’d seen Sam naked. Marco laughed when I told him about Kat meeting Sam. That also brought something to mind I had wondered, but was afraid to ask Sam.

  “Marco, does Sam keep a harem?”

  During my week long visit, Marco had told me that Bade Garren used to keep a harem when he was still a member of the pack. Of course, not every pack member is allowed such a privilege. Bade was at one time Marco’s second in command, his beta wolf. Normally only the alpha keeps a harem, but it is at his discretion to allow his beta wolf to do so. Marco however, had refused to keep his own harem. He said that natural wolves mate for life and he felt it a shame to be more like animals than they were. I was eager to hear if Sam did the same.

  “No, but he could if he wanted to. It’s a long story, but Sam doesn’t have a mate and he hasn’t had for the past ten years.”

  I looked a question at his hologram and Marco answered, “He dates, but nothing serious.”

  “You mean...?”

  “He nails his pack members.”

  To my surprise, it didn’t bother me to hear that about Sam. I was relieved to find that I was not possessive of every alpha male I encountered.

  Toward the end of my bath and our conversation Marco asked, “So, when does Alfred return?”

  “A week, maybe less,” I sighed.

  The smile he offered me was kind, but there was something else in his eyes, something I couldn’t make out through the hologram.

  “Keep in touch,” he said.

  I nodded.

  “Goodnight, Red.”

  “Goodnight.”

  I felt better after talking to him. Once I’d dried off and slid between my red silk sheets, I thought that sleep would surely have no problem finding its way to me. However, I decided to meditate just in case. I didn’t want to end up having nightmares about Marco’s attack.

  Once I had entered the place in my mind where I could release my worries, I began to do so. Gradually, the key appeared in the lock of the elaborately carved door like it had every time before.

  When I was safely inside ‘my room’, as I called it, I heard Mathias’ voice.

  “You must have been a moth in a past life,” he said sarcastically.

  I didn’t need to ask what he was referring to. Yes, I tended to play with fire when I shouldn’t. Marco was hot and, like a moth to the flame, I was drawn to him.

  “I’m not going to stop talking to him, Mathias.”

  “And I am not saying that you should, only that you should make up your mind.”

  “This from the man who was rumored to have had how many lovers?”

  “That is beside the point,” he said indignantly.

  “No darling, that’s exactly the point. Your blood flows through my veins. I am after all, the power of The Seducer in living form, am I not?”

  “What is your point?”

  “My point is that I’m too much like you to ever make up my mind so easily. So don’t go lecturing me about what choices to make.”

  “Hit a nerve did I?”

  “Yes.”

  “You should know by now, child, that I would never deliberately hurt you. I am only suggesting that you might find it less painful if you saw less of him. But, if that is not what you want.... “

  “I don’t know what I want. But seeing Marco less is not on the top of my list.”

  “You have little choice, my dear. You know what he wants.”

  I also knew that Mathias wasn’t referring to sex. Marco wanted things from me that I was not willing to give.

  Truthfully, I didn’t know if I would ever be. I wasn’t exactly in a position to be the full time lover of an alpha werewolf, not to mention help lead his pack.

  “Didn’t you know? I have a special gift for doomed relationships.”

  “Something else that you must have inherited from me.”

  His voice was kind and it made me smile.

  “It will get better right?”

  “Yes. I promise.”

  “I suppose there’s no point in just asking you what will happen, is there?”

  “No. Besides, it would not help. If I told you what would lead up to certain events, there are things that you would change, for the worse. However, there are other things, that might nearly kill you, but you would not want to miss what will lead to those events.”

  “Damn, I hate wizards. Never a straight answer.”

  “You could not handle a straight answer.”

  “Are you trying to scare me?”

  “No, I am trying to protect you.”

  “Indulge me. Answer one thing, just one thing, with a straight answer.”

  “Fine, but you asked for it. Choose your question carefully, and be certain that you really want to know.”

  “Should I break off all contact with Marco? Is that what you are trying to get me to do?”

  “No.”

  “Then why would you even make that suggestion?”

  “You said one question. I answered one question.”

  I was silent for what felt like several minutes before I heard his voice again.

  “To break off contact with him would be to kill a part of yourself that has just begun to live. This is not to say where your destiny lies nor what you should do.”

  When I still didn’t respond he continued, “When I suggested that you see him less, I did not mean forever.”

  “That’s all you ever had to say.”

  “Learn to read between the lines.”

  “Learn to speak in something beside riddles.”

  —

  The next morning I found the blue button on my communicator flashing. Since I’d heard from Marco the night before, there were only two other people who might have left me a message. When I pressed the button, it was Alfred that appeared.

  He said simply, “Check the transporter.”

  Well, that was weird, but he didn’t appear to have been upset. So, I took my time putting on my robe and a pair of fuzzy bedroom slippers before making my way downstairs.

  Once I reached the lower levels of the house I noticed how empty and cold Alfred’s lab was without him. It looked the same as it always had. He just wasn’t in it. I walked across the vast room wondering if I should have chosen my question to Mathias more wisely. I had asked the one question I wanted to know more than anything else ... and it hadn’t been about Alfred.

  Lying in the middle of the transporter tiles was a single piece of parchment. Here, was written Alfred’s attempt at poetry: I hear you moan in my sleep and your screams delight me.

  I dream of flame, and drown in your fire.

  Flecks of gold and amber descend upon my eyelids, and burn into my mind.

  I long to awaken to amber flame on my pillow...

  instead of this wig I’ve been sleeping with.

  I laughed out loud and read the next few lines: Just kidding. See you in a week. Love, Alfred Even though the ending made me laugh, I had to admit it was good. Alfred was brilliant. It should not have surprised me that he could write poetry also. But then again, I had never seen that side of him before. When friends become lovers, we often find there is a great deal we do not know about one another.

  —

  Kat came over the next morning for breakfast. While I made ham and cheese omelets she shared with me some recent pictures of Charles.

  “
I knew there was a reason you came by other than liking my omelets.”

  As I gazed at the pictures she held up I had to say he was every bit as handsome as Kat had said he was.

  “Unfortunately, his ass isn’t in any of these pictures,” she said.

  “Well, damn. That’s what I was looking for,” I drawled sarcastically.

  I showed her Alfred’s poem that I’d placed between the pages of my dream journal.

  “Wow.” She beamed. “Romantic tendencies displayed simultaneously with a sense of humor.”

  “He’s not gay, Kat.”

  She just laughed in response.

  After a few minutes of topic jumping Kat asked, “So, what will you do about everybody else?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She looked close to scolding me. “You know what I mean.

  I know what you said about the wolfman, but what about the cop?”

  I sighed. “Kat, he knew this couldn’t be anything more from the start. Remember what I told you?”

  “I remember, ‘not forever and always’. But, I’ve never met a man who enjoyed wasting his time.”

  “He’s not wasting his time,” I said defensively. “We’ve developed an excellent friendship.”

  Kat stuck two fingers in her mouth and pretended to gag.

  I laughed. “You choking on eggs?”

  “No, on your bullshit.”

  “Yeah? Well, it goes well with some syrup.”

  “He could be dating anyone in town he wanted. Hell, anyone in the tri-state area.”

  “Has it ever occurred to you that he might not like easy women?”

  Kat snorted.

  “Remember, men were hunters for thousands of years before modern life domesticated them. You can’t chase something that won’t run, Kat. And that’s half the fun.”

  “Sounds like The Big Bad Wolf has rubbed off on you. Or has he just rubbed on you?” she added the last with a nasty smirk.

  I chose to ignore her comment about Marco and stuck to the subject, “It’s true, Kat. Not every man out there is looking for a cheap thrill.”

  “So, maybe it was expensive.” She grinned.

  I had to admit that for the most part, she was right.

  However, it isn’t fair to judge everyone by the same standard.

  When it comes to romance all men are not created equal.

  Some might have a wonderful sense of dramatic flare and passion, while they lack the good looks or charm to pull it off.

  Others might look better than chocolate to your sweet tooth, but they’re assholes underneath. And some are just dogs.

  However, when I catch myself thinking that all men are dogs, I am reminded that I’m not much better. Of course, that’s not what I said to Kat. What I told her was, “All men are dogs.

  It’s just a matter of finding the right leash.”

  Her jaw dropped. Point for me.

  —

  Elijah and I had already made plans for the weekend, but he called late in the week to confirm them. Before then we hadn’t decided on where to go. Elijah wanted to come up with something fun and surprise me.

  “How long has it been since you’ve line danced?”

  I laughed. “In a club? Never. The last time I did any line dancing was for a charity fund raiser in high school.”

  “Think you’re up to it?”

  It truly wasn’t one of the high points of my life, but I hated to turn him down flat.

  “I really don’t know. It’s been ten years....”

  “Oh come on. It’ll be fun. You can bring Kat if you want to.”

  I hesitated. I might be from the south, but I’m not exactly the country western type.

  “What could be more entertaining than watching a bunch of drunk cowboys try to dance?” He laughed. “I’m just playing. There’s a really nice place a few hours drive from here. It’s not just a bar. It’s more of a dance club. They serve alcohol, but it’s not a bunch of drunks. What do you say, try something different?”

  Country line dancing was so not my thing. But, I couldn’t think of a good reason to say no, so I agreed. I mentioned it to Kat and she came along, too. Charles had to be out of town, so I missed yet another opportunity to meet him.

  She came over early that Friday afternoon to help me decide what to wear. I did actually own a pair of cowgirl boots, but I hadn’t worn them in years. They were black leather, complete with silver buckle around the ankle and a silver plate on the heel to attach spurs.

  “Yippee ki yeah.” Kat chuckled when she saw the boots.

  She was wearing a pair of tan boots with a matching sleeveless vest that she’d turned into a shirt and painted on jeans. Kat had curled her naturally wavy hair so that it hung in dark brunette ringlets to her shoulders. She looked like a real cowgirl, and I felt like a real horse’s ass.

  After an hour of looking through everything in my closet, Kat opened the trunk full of my old costumes from when I was in drama years ago.

  “Tada,” she said as she held up a pair of black leather pants.

  I’m not sure what you’d call the fringe that ran down the outside seams of both legs, but it was made of strips of leather and normally found on chaps. She even found the matching hat.

  “No way,” I said firmly.

  “It’s perfect,” she said. “Just try it on.”

  A short while later I stood in front of the full length mirror in my bathroom looking like the villain from every old western. I had paired the pants with an unusual black top. It was sleeveless and made of that stretchy material that I never could remember the name of. Polyester, that was it.

  The shirt dipped into a ‘v’ in front, just enough to show some cleavage. A hint, not a full on tease. The ensemble was completed by my big black belt with the silver wolf shaped buckle.

  Once I put on my makeup I turned toward Kat, put the hat on, and tipped it low over my eyes.

  “Do you make an effort to look like the bad guy, or does it just come naturally?”

  Before I could comment the phone rang. It was Elijah, and he was coming up the driveway. If I had any doubts about my outfit, it was too late to change. I consoled myself by thinking there wouldn’t be anyone there who knew me anyway.

  “Ready?” Kat asked.

  “I look like part of the female dance review for the Firestarter.”

  “First of all, The Firestarter isn’t that classy. And second it’s not like anyone there’s going to know us anyway.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping.”

  When he wasn’t going to the beach, Elijah drove an old pick-up truck. Kat and I met him out front and he asked, “Which one of you ladies wants to straddle my stick?”

  Kat started to raise her hand and I slapped it back down.

  To our discredit, we both chuckled.

  “I’ll get in the middle,” I said, trying to regain my composure.

  During the drive Elijah and I took turns flipping the channels on the radio and singing along to different annoying songs. Kat flipped some old man who cut us off.

  By the time we got where we were going, I had to either get out of the truck, or beat someone over the head.

  “What is wrong with you two?” I nearly growled.

  “Nothing’s wrong with me. He doesn’t know how to drive,”

  Kat said.

  “Well, I could drive just fine if you could stop trying to drive from the passenger seat,” Elijah spat.

  “Shut up,” I directed this at both of them.

  People who were making their way to the front doors of the club were starting to stare at us. Just as I was thinking it was good that no one would recognize us anyway I noticed a familiar face in the crowd walking past us.

  Lola turned and waved in our direction. I sneered back at her and she turned toward the club.

  “Great, that’s just fucking great.”

  They both stopped bickering and looked at me.

  “What is it?” they asked together.


  “You see that bitch right there?” I pointed at Lola’s back.

  “Lola?” Kat said at the same time that Elijah answered, “Yeah.”

  I turned to Elijah, “Well, she thinks that I’m screwing you, that I’ve kicked Alfred out of the house, and while I’m at it, I’m screwing Sam, too!”

  “That bitch!” This was from Kat while Elijah said simultaneously, “Who’s Sam?”

  “He’s a friend of mine.”

  “Are you screwing him?” he asked nastily.

  “No, I’m not. You know what else I’m not doing? I am NOT having this conversation with you. EITHER of you.”

  I stomped off in the direction of the club.

  “Where are you going?” they both asked.

  “To get drunk. Who knows, I might start a fight so the night won’t be a total loss.”

  Before I’d put so much as one foot through the door the bouncer stopped me with a large hand on my shoulder. He looked more like a muscular tree than a human being.

  “Is there a problem?” he nodded back toward Kat and Elijah still arguing in the parking lot.

  “The only problem here is you.”

  “Come again?” his voice was deep and menacing enough to match the rest of him.

  “I said that my only problem is you.“

  “And how do you figure that?”

  “You’re standing between me and the bar.”

  He straightened to his full height and crossed his arms over his massive chest. He was tall with long black hair and pale skin. Tattoos covered most of his bare muscular arms.

  Sure, the guy was big and scary, but there was something else about him that gave me pause.

  “Do they normally let werewolves be bouncers around here?”

  His eyes grew wide, but otherwise the man’s expression didn’t change.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He sounded calm, but I knew better.

  “Tell me cowboy, have you ever heard of Death?”

  A cold sweat could be seen on his forehead and he visibly trembled for a second.

  “If you have a point, you should be making it,” he said.

  I let one long claw extend from the index finger of my right hand. Since I wasn’t tall enough to hold it to his throat, I pressed it into the front of his pants just enough to pinch.

  “Lilith Mercury?” he whispered.

  “That’s right, cowboy.”