by Holley Trent
He felt his gut drop to his feet. He wanted to be soft and give her the moon, if he could, but that wasn’t possible. “Well, that’s a problem, because if I go out, it may be me being the one scaring people.”
She looked up now, and anger flashed in those bright eyes. “If you don’t want to be seen with me, you don’t have to make up stupid excuses.”
Seen with her? What? “It’s not an excuse, Julia. You need to understand that—”
“That what? Go on. Lie to me. Let me hear your best.”
His jaw flapped a few beats, and then he shut it. Yeah, he was going to lie. What else could he do? What would he say? “Oh, by the way, my last name is Wolff because I am one. Please pass the sugar.”
“I just can’t.”
“I see. Well. I can’t stay here all the time, and if you won’t take me, I’ll find my own way.”
“I offered to call you a cab, honey.”
“To hell with your cab.”
She closed her eyes, balled her fists at her sides, and suddenly the energy in the room crackled and spiked.
It felt like magic, but she wasn’t a witch. He knew witches. Had dated one once. Julia was …
Wait. What had she said? Demon spawn.
With a loud grunt of frustration, she vanished from sight.
He bolted to his feet and ran to the middle of his room, looking around. “Great googly moogly, what the snot just happened?”
Where’d his girl go?
• • •
When Julia opened her eyes again, she didn’t know where she was. She was in an alleyway somewhere in a bustling city. It stank of human excrement and garbage, and she didn’t intend to stay. “Oh, God. Bad idea.” She was so unfocused with this skill, but until recently, she didn’t know she’d had it. John had it. She’d tried it, too, and it’d worked. Now her problem was that she really had nowhere else to go. She hadn’t thought that through before she popped out of Calvin’s house.
She closed her eyes tight once more, and this time imagined the pattern of the rug in his office, and wished herself back to it.
She hit the floor hard on her side, and through blurry vision, saw the bright red and yellow threads of the carpet and the toes of Calvin’s socks. She heard him say, “Shit. Hold on there, Julia. Try to keep your eyes open.”
She passed out.
• • •
“Come on, Julia, open your eyes.”
Great. Calvin knew his stupid tongue and his stupid brain would get him into trouble some day, and looked like he’d found it.
He cradled the unconscious woman in his arms and rocked her.
Her skin was clammy, and her breathing was thready. Briefly, he pondered dialing 9-1-1, but what would he say? He could hardly believe it himself, and maybe he still didn’t know what all was going on. Okay. Demon spawn. Sure. He’d wrap his mind around that eventually, but shit! Demons could teleport? Neat trick. What he did know, though, was that a gift had walked right onto his doorstep wanting nothing but to be safe, and maybe a bit of companionship, and he’d turned on that patented Wolff cynicism that always kept people at arm’s-length.
How could he have known? People like her weren’t supposed to exist. But, then again, people like him weren’t supposed to exist, either.
He held her a little closer and brushed his lips across her forehead. “Julia,” he whispered. “Come on out. I won’t upset you again, I promise. You in there?”
The proximity alarm linked to his computer went off, and he ignored it. It was probably just a deer. Whatever it was, he’d look at the video later.
“Julia,” he whispered again, and rubbed her side with his free right hand.
She stirred. Her forehead scrunched, and eyelids fluttered, then opened all the way.
“There you are. Where’d you go, huh?”
Her bright eyes went round. She pulled herself upright and backed away from him.
“Slow down. You fell pretty hard. Just stay still.”
Her face blanched, lips parted as she scooted back more.
“What’s wrong?”
She scrambled to her feet and ran for the door.
He followed her, narrowly dodging the flannel shirt she tossed behind her as she streaked through the living room.
She was out the front door before he could beg her to stay. He wanted her to stay.
“Julia, wait!”
The screen door banged shut, and he ran toward it, remembering at the last minute that the ground was cold and he wore no shoes.
“Wait,” he yelled out the door, but she was gone. Her blonde head disappeared into the trees, and at most, he had thirty seconds to catch up to her before she’d be too far to find. He’d probably already lost his chance, but all the same he ran into the office and jammed his feet into his tennis shoes. Passing by the computer, he paused to study the curious video feed stills on his monitor.
“What the hell is that?” He squinted at the blurry thing while tying his shoe.
Wasn’t a deer or a local cat, but it was big.
On the way out the front door, he grabbed his shotgun just in case, and pushed his body to run faster than it had since he’d been forced to leave baseball.
“Julia!” he called out, scanning the woods systematically as he ran, looking both for her bright hair and that white shirt, and seeking out predatory beasts that would do her harm.
How far could she get in those cheap canvas flats she was wearing? She could probably feel every twig and pebble underfoot.
Head toward the driveway, his instincts told him, so he cut left and ran toward the asphalt.
There she was, coming out of the woods about twenty meters ahead of him.
“Honey, slow down. Come back to the house with me, and let’s talk this out. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Come on. Put yourself in my shoes.”
She was nearly at the road. If she got to the road, she could flag down a car for a ride, and there he’d be waving a big gun like a homicidal maniac.
Shit.
He uncocked the gun and threw it down into a patch of brush.
Julia’s scream pealed through the woods, and Calvin saw the dark streak he’d seen on the video blocking her path, and hissing.
What was that thing? It looked like some cross between cat and lizard: hairless, earless, and having fangs that went on for days. Its tail thrashed as it circled around her.
“Don’t come closer. I think it wants me, not you,” she yelled.
Like hell he was going to let it have her. This was his land, and he didn’t appreciate his guests becoming lunch.
He forced one more burst of speed, and along with it came the hot searing pain.
Colors muted, his hearing sharpened, and four feet struck the ground instead of two.
He took a flying leap and clamped his jaws around the ugly thing’s neck, but it fought back, trying to knock him off.
Vaguely, Calvin registered a man’s voice saying, “Shit, it got in before we got the last mojo bag buried. Pop sends these beasts out when he can’t find us. It’s looking for me. Pop summoned me yesterday and I ignored him.”
“I got it. Get your wolf off it, Julia,” another man’s voice said.
Calvin couldn’t spare a look up. The creature was trying to stab his dagger-sharp claws into his underbelly, and he had to keep moving around.
“I don’t know how!” Julia said.
“Call him,” the man said.
“Uh…”
Leaves crumpled underfoot behind him, and Calvin stole a glance to the left to catch Julia in his periphery. “Cal- Calvin! You need to get away from it.”
Easier said than done.
He and the beast rolled, and Calvin used his powerful hind legs to push the creature back.
They separated, circling, snarling.
Something, no, someone, wrapped tentative arms around his belly and pulled him back.
“Calvin. It’s me,” Julia whispered. “Don’t bite me.”
The
creature saw his chance, and dove, but before it could reach him, there was an explosion.
A gunshot echoed through the woods, and the bloodied creature fell onto the driveway, a meter from Calvin’s furry feet.
Now Calvin looked and saw a red-eyed man with his gun, and a second man with a sharp knife, leaning over the creature.
He snarled at both, and the husky voice behind him said, softly, “It’s okay. They’re my brothers.”
“You didn’t know he was a wolf?” the one with the shotgun asked the one with the knife.
“No, I can never tell,” the one with the knife said. “Not one of my powers.” He grabbed the creature by the feet and dragged it toward the road. “What I need to do to this thing, I shouldn’t do around the wolf,” he said.
The man with the gun knelt in front of Calvin and furrowed his forehead. “You understand me in that form?”
Calvin nodded. Of course he did. He was a werewolf, not an idiot.
“I should shoot you for making her run,” he said, “but I know you’ll heal it. Doubt you have silver in this thing.”
Calvin rolled his eyes, but according to his mother, that action was never particularly potent in his current form. Of course he’d heal it. He’d walked away from a fucking plane crash, and that was the moment in his life his wolf started demanding payback. He wanted his mate, and was going to make Calvin’s life miserable until the man heeled.
“Why’d you run, Julia?” the red-eyed man asked.
“I thought I might have been seeing things. He was over me, and I saw his face and a wolf head at the same time. I thought he was going to eat me.”
Calvin sighed and shifted back into his human shape.
Julia, still clinging to his waist, stood with him, and pressed against his backside.
Registering his nudity, she pulled her arms free of his waist and took a step back.
She blushed, but wore a little smile he didn’t need translation for.
All the same, he covered his junk with his hands. He could make her blush some more later and preferably not in front of the faux Winchester brothers. “I wasn’t going to eat you. I’m sorry. You scared me, and I guess my wolf wanted to help.”
“Is that why you hide out here? Because you’re a wolf?”
He shrugged. “I was born a wolf. I didn’t take a mate when I should have, so I got a little bit unpredictable for a while. I could accidentally shift if I get too agitated. Can’t have that happening in public, so I figured it was safest if I kept to myself. Look, I couldn’t hurt you, Julia. I promise. I’d just as soon gnaw my own leg off. My wolf wants you. I want you. I’m sorry for being distant, but…”
Well, he’d thought she was crazy.
He needed her to believe him. Every cell in his body screamed it out to him. He would never find another woman who’d be so good for him. Who could be his buffer to the world. She’d already imprinted on him, probably from that first look at his security footage.
“I’m a succubus,” she said, and tears rolled down her cheeks.
He wanted to pull her close, and hug her—kiss her face until the tears stopped, but he suspected the dude with his gun wouldn’t like being in the audience of that.
“Yeah, you told me that. Makes me wonder what else is out there in the world. Seems like we’re all keeping secrets instead of helping each other.”
“She can’t hurt you as long as she doesn’t get marked,” Gun-dude said.
“What does that mean? Marked?”
“The demon part of her is latent because she hasn’t been marked. She needs to stay away from our father. That’s why this place is important. We’ve got the property warded all the way around the woods now, so you shouldn’t have to worry about demon scouts flitting around anymore and drawing our father here. We’ve been working on this on and off for a month, but kept getting called away.”
Their father. So, this guy with the funny accent, curly hair and, a five o’clock shadow, and a Grateful dead t-shirt was demon spawn, too.
“Our father has a distinct aversion to werewolves, so as long as she’s near you, he won’t come close. You’ll actually be able to go out in the world with Monsieur Furry. Isn’t that great, Julia?” The other man had returned, wiping his bloody hands on what looked to be a very expensive pair of blue jeans. “He says werewolves smell like the seventh level of Dante’s Hell.”
Calvin huffed with indignation. “I smell amazing.”
Julia grunted her agreement.
“So, who the hell are you?” Calvin asked the newcomer.
The man blinked. “I’m Cupid.”
Apparently, Cupid was six-and-a-half feet tall, wore a ponytail, and had a fondness for cashmere sweaters.
Julia started up the driveway. She wiped exploded creature bits from her cheeks and looked back at them all. “Calvin has coffee and frozen food,” she said to her brothers. “More importantly, running water. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get the lizard goop off.”
They followed.
Calvin watched them walk a few paces, and then threw up his hands and tracked after them.
“I told my mama I’d die before I mated a wolf bitch,” he mused to himself, “but I never said anything about a cult-reared succubus.”
• • •
Julia twirled the end of her long braid and waited while Calvin posed for yet another picture.
He rejoined her side and looped his arm around her waist.
“Sorry,” she said. “I know you hate it.”
“I think I’m becoming numb to it now. I’m still flummoxed, though, by how they all ignore you as if you weren’t standing there.”
She shrugged. “Claude said it was an angel thing. Goes hand-in-hand with the disappearing act. Takes some time to master, but so far so good.”
The last thing she needed was to have her picture printed in every major gossip rag in the country. Someone would probably try to abduct her within a week. Not that Calvin would let her go without a fight. Wolves were possessive that way, and Julia didn’t mind so much because his possession came with tickles and laughter and coffee, although his mother was a champion nag.
Julia and Calvin paused in front of a shop window, and she admired the mannequin’s plaid shirt.
“You like it?” he asked.
“I do. I still can’t tell what’s stylish and what’s not, and my brothers would have preferred me to keep the cult wear.”
“I would have, too.”
She elbowed him in the chest, and he wheezed as he exhaled.
He coughed and rubbed his sternum. “What’d you expect me to say?”
“No one even looks at me.”
“Everyone looks at you, apart from the ones shoving cameras in my face. You just don’t notice it because you’re not used to working crowds. For me, it’s like getting back on a bicycle after a lot of years. I’m okay at it, but it’s uncomfortable having been out of the spotlight for so long.
“Maybe. I love the crowds. Makes me feel like I’m out in the world. Involved.”
“I know. And I’ll tolerate them for you.” He checked his watch. “Hey. We’ll come back for the shirt. You’re going to be late for your class.”
She looked down at her watch and cringed. Pulling him by the hand, she said, “Are you going to sit in the back and wait for me?”
“Nope. Told ya. Trying to get better about the creeper wolf thing. I’ll go hang out at the baseball diamond and heckle the kids. Gotta make some calls anyway. The team’s travel agent messed up my itinerary again.”
“I miss you when you travel.”
He winked. “Yeah, being away makes me a sad puppy, too. Wolves don’t like to stray so far from their mates. Being apart is distracting. Makes it hard to focus. It’s a wonder I’ve managed to manage to strike anyone out.”
“Of course you have and you’ll continue to do so. You’re Calvin F. Wolff.”
He chuckled. “You’re my number one fan. You know the F doesn’t stand for Frank, r
ight?”
She stumbled, but he held her up and laughed again.
“That fact has recently come to my attention.” In fact, it had dawned on her while they engaged in some scandalizing acts behind closed doors. Apparently, Calvin had developed a long hair fetish in the past four months. She made his wolf wild with teases about cutting it.
“Your naïveté is so damned cute, but it makes me and the dingbat wolf worry about you, honey. I’m glad to be out guiding you through the world. I never thought I’d have a mate, and figured I’d just go feral.”
She nodded as they approached her class’s building. “We really are a pair, aren’t we? Dingbat wolf and ditzy succubus?”
He swatted her bottom as she started up the stairs. “I guess The Fates have a sense of humor.”
“I have it on good authority that Cupid would agree.”
About the Author
Holley Trent is a Carolina girl gone west. Raised in rural, coastal North Carolina, she currently resides on the Colorado Front Range with her family. She writes sassy contemporary and quirky paranormal romances set in her home state.
She’s hard at work writing other stories set in the Sons of Gulielmus world, including one for Cupid himself—Charles. Read all about John’s clash with the demon daddy Gulielmus in A Demon in Waiting.
See Holley’s complete backlist of paranormal and contemporary romances at her website, http://www.holleytrent.com. When she’s not on deadline, she boldly tweets under the handle @holleytrent.
Contents
That Ol’ Team Spirit
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
About the Author
That Ol’ Team Spirit
Bea Moon
Avon, Massachusetts
To Alice, Diane, and Michael for your input and support, and to Tara Gelsomino for her sharp editorial eye and her keen story sense, both of which were beyond helpful.
Chapter One
Trish Noonan looked at the scoreboard and cursed. The concession stand she ran with her grandmother was always busy when the Sharks played on Saturday, and she was ready to call it a day. The score was now tied at the end of the ninth inning, and the teams were warming up for the start of the tenth inning. If she didn’t leave right now, the postgame traffic would turn her twenty-minute drive home into an hour-long nightmare.
