Janna's Werewolf

by Fawn Lowery

  “Ms Marlow seems to think a werewolf attacked the guy, Hank.”

  There was a touch of humor in the Lieutenant’s voice. Janna pinned her gaze on him; watching him glance from the pile of human flesh to her, then back again.

  The coroner shook his head. “My guess, is that it was animal related, Tony. I don’t believe in werewolves, as a rule, but who’s to say it didn’t happen.”

  Surprise wreathed the Lieutenant’s face. “I don’t think I’ll make a public statement to that effect, doc. The citizens of Madison are scared enough as it is.” He turned to Janna. “Remember that when you write your column, Ms Marlow.”

  Janna nodded. “I think the people need to be warned for their own safety, Lieutenant.”

  “I agree,” the coroner voiced. “You can’t have a murder of this magnitude occur and not have people on edge. They need to be aware that something is on the loose and they need to take precautions. The park should be closed at dusk, and everybody off the streets by nine o’clock until this thing is found and destroyed.”

  “You sound pretty emphatic, doc.”

  “This was a brutal massacre. This poor man never had a chance against whatever attacked him.” He moved over to the adjacent table where the ravaged body lay. “There are multiple puncture wounds embedded in the flesh and those wounds were caused by piercing teeth—long, sharp canines that were forced in deep by powerful jaws. I’ve extracted bits of clothing pushed inside flesh, nearly to the bone. There are definite bite marks on the body, Tony. The public needs warning—and right away. Who knows when this savage thing might attack again?”

  “Savage thing?” Tony Barton questioned, a look of consternation across his face.

  Janna’s worse nightmare was about to be realized.

  “People might be less frightened if they were warned about a pack of dogs,” Janna suggested. “They could at least stay inside and be alert.”

  “And maybe we could catch this thing before it kills again.” Lieutenant Barton shrugged his shoulders. “Though I have no idea how to go about hunting something that I have no description of—aside from being dog related and having sharp teeth.”

  * * * *

  Janna returned to the newspaper office intent on typing up her article for the evening edition, but the second she entered the news room, she was assailed by the aroma of male were. Aware that she had to keep her observations to herself, and obviously not raise her nose in the air while scenting, she scanned the large room for the object of her interest.

  He was seated in her desk chair, a nonchalant look about him, his heels piled atop her desk as though he waited for her in absolute leisure.

  The were my father sent to protect me.

  She debated whether to turn and flee the scene, or march onward and send him on his way. There was no way in hell that she wanted—or needed—another were in her midst—especially with her Moon Phase taking place and Rick Sawyer playing the role of ‘her great protector.’ She made a mental note to call her father and explain things from her point of view—though she doubted it would make any difference. He was headstrong and ruled with an iron fist.

  She watched the were, sensing his confidence as she walked toward him. Did he know what she looked like—surely her father had given him a picture—or did he intend to identify her by scent alone?

  He scented me.

  That question answered, Janna approached the desk. He didn’t move, remained at ease as she drew near, his hands clasp behind his head and his feet atop her desk.

  He was quite handsome and Janna’s senses immediately picked up the male musk he exuded—perhaps because of her being in her Moon Phase. The scent was intoxicating to the point of nearly being heady to inhale. He was hot for her—aware that she was easily aroused because of the Curse she was bound by.

  “My father shouldn’t have sent you.”

  He rose slowly to his feet, towering over her so that she had to tip her head back to look into his face. Her senses jolted as though she had been electrically shocked. Pale gray eyes stared down at her while a full sensuous mouth pulled up at one corner—mockingly, yet teasingly too.

  “He’s concerned for your safety.”

  His voice was deep toned, husky in a sexy way. His breath puffed hotly on Janna’s cheek as he spoke. His tall lean body hovered only inches from hers, beckoning to her senses and giving her cause to feel alarmed about being seduced. She took a step back, putting a bit of distance between them and hoping to abate the temptation that seemed to gush from every gorgeous pour of his body.

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “You’re knees are shaking right now.”

  Shit!

  “Look, it was a mistake for you to come here—so just go back and tell my father—“

  “I can’t do that.”

  His voice was so calm and seductive that Janna creamed her panties.

  “Once the danger is past, I’ll go.” He poked his hands into his slacks pockets. “But until that time—“

  “We’re bosom buddies” Janna said propping her hands on her hips. “Well, I’m telling you right now, I don’t need protecting. I can take care of myself. And you should go find someone else to tend.”

  He chuckled softly. “I’d love to discipline you.”

  Janna sucked in a quick breath, his words assailing her. She glanced round the newsroom; suddenly aware of the curious gazes aimed their way.

  “That is not going to happen.”

  He shrugged very broad shoulders and flashed her a white-toothed grin.

  “It might.”

  “Take a hike. I have work to do,” she announced, rounding the corner of her desk and taking the chair he had recently risen from. “I have a column to write.” She refrained from saying that she was going to warn the public to be on the lookout for anything suspicious in their neighborhoods—steering clear of anything werewolf related—though every fiber in her body screamed otherwise.

  He merely moved to the front of her desk and pulled up a chair from a vacant desk. He fitted his lean body into the chair and pinned his assessing gaze on her face.

  “I’m here when ever you need me.”

  Which will be when hell freezes over!

  She began typing, aware of his hot gaze traveling over her face, lowering to her summer sweater and pausing on her breasts.

  What is it with men and tits?

  She felt her nipples pucker; her temperature rose a few degrees. She forced her attention to the article she needed to type, glancing at her notes. She couldn’t sugarcoat the tragedy in the park—but she couldn’t discount it either. People needed to be aware of their surroundings when they ventured outside.

  The hair on the back of her neck suddenly stood up as a foreboding coldness snaked through her insides. She shifted her gaze to the were sitting before her desk; his pale gaze was directed toward Elmer McCoy’s office. She sensed his sudden alertness.

  Turning slowly so she didn’t draw the attentions of those working around her, she looked toward the office—and spied Rick Sawyer with Elmer McCoy visible through the glass in the office door. Curiosity welled up inside her.

  What’s Rick doing here?

  “I know him,” she said quickly glancing at the were. “He’s one of the good ones.”

  Dark brows rose in question. “He has claim to you?”

  Janna’s cheeks pinked. “I wouldn’t say that—“

  “Then what is your relationship with him?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  He leaned forward in the chair, locking gazes with Janna. “But I’m making it my business. Now who is he and how do you know him?”

  “His name is Rick Sawyer. He’s a tennis player. I once did an article about him.” She bristled at having to explain herself to this…this…

  Incredibly handsome male!

  “You’re aware that he’s a werewolf?”

  Boy, am I!

  “Yes. I know he’s—“ she stilled her tongue,
afraid that some one might overhear and ask questions of her.

  “I don’t need any trouble out of him.”

  “Meaning I should stifle his urges to fuck me—so you won’t have any competition?”

  He smiled slowly, and disarmingly.

  Janna felt her face flame.

  Why did I say such a stupid thing?

  “That would be nice, honey. Real nice.”

  Damn that Moon Phase!

  She snatched the telephone off the corner of the desk. “I’m calling my dad right now—so pack your bag and get ready to leave town.”

  Chapter Seven

  Janna slammed the receiver down in its cradle. When had her father ever listened to her? Why had she thought it would be different this time?

  “Nick Austin.”

  Janna stared at the smooth-palmed hand he offered her.

  “I’m a private investigator, by profession. When I’m not working on a case, or guarding beautiful women, I like to ski, browse vintage book stores, and ride my chopper.” He cocked his head at her. “I’d like to take you for a ride sometime.”

  “You mean you’d like to ride me.”

  He winked one incredibly silver eye at her. “That too.”

  Janna turned her gaze back to the computer screen and hit the enter key, sending her article about the murder to the copy editor. Pushing herself back in her chair, she rose and strode toward the break room. Nick was immediately on her heels.

  “Do you plan to follow me to the bathroom too?”

  “Only if it wouldn’t rouse suspicions. Do you think it would?”

  She released a long sigh and poured herself a cup of coffee from the recently brewed pot. Remembering her manners, she glanced at Nick and received a nod of approval. They took their cups of coffee and went to a small table in one corner of the room. There were things that needed straightened out between them—and it had nothing to do with hard cocks. She stifled a shiver at the thought.

  “You have to leave. You can’t continue to hang around my desk. I can’t work with you here.”

  “You’ll get used to me soon enough.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “I tend to grow on people.”

  “I don’t want you growing on me.”

  “You heard the lady.”

  Janna jumped at the intrusive voice. Spinning round, she spied Rick striding into the room.

  Nick Austin was on his feet, clearly expecting the worse.

  Janna sensed his muscles tensing, his stance rigid and poised, ready to spring at Rick without further provocation.

  “Hold on, guys.” Janna jumped up, her hands spread toward both men. “There’s nothing to fight about.” She felt anger gather inside her body. “For Pete’s sake! I work here. Are you trying to get me fired?”

  Her words somewhat diffused the volatile situation.

  Rick stood to one side, aiming a menacing glare at Nick. And Nick didn’t take his eyes off Rick for fear he might be charged suddenly.

  “This is Nick Austin,” she said to Rick. “My father sent him to guard me.” Turning to Nick, she said, “Rick Sawyer.”

  The were’s didn’t shake hands, only stared at each other.

  Janna picked up her coffee cup and left the room, retuning to the newsroom.

  Let them figure it out! I don’t give a fuck!

  She returned to her desk and held her breath that the two didn’t go at each other’s throats right there—in broad daylight. Momentarily, Nick returned to the chair in front of her desk.

  “We agreed to share you,” he whispered and gave her a teasing wink.

  * * * *

  Janna’s living room seemed to shrink considerably with the two powerful alpha males sitting in it. Rick dominated the couch while Nick Austin sat in an armchair near the fireplace at the back of the room. Neither spoke, merely aimed warning gazes at the other.

  Janna entered the room, a tray with three cups of coffee sitting on it. She sat the tray on the coffee table and handed each were a cup, then took the last cup and sat down across the room from Rick.

  “The sooner the rogue is found—the sooner you can leave town,” she said, aiming her gaze at Nick Austin. “And the sooner you can stop playing the role of jealous lover,” she said to Rick.

  Rick’s face lit up in amusement at her words. “I guess that says it all,” he remarked, glaring at Nick.

  “I didn’t come here to cause trouble,” Nick said, taking a sip of his coffee. “But I’m not apt to run from it either.”

  “You’re not needed here. I can take care of Janna.”

  “Apparently her father isn’t aware of you and your capable abilities.”

  Rick was suddenly on his feet, coffee splashing onto the carpet.

  Nick bounded from his chair, meeting him in the middle of the room.

  Janna cringed. In the next seconds, Rick and Nick were transforming into wolf forms and gnashing their teeth at each other. Suddenly Rick rushed Nick and aimed for his neck, intending to end his life there and then. Nick dodged and evaded Rick’s savage fangs just in the nick of time. Rick recovered and turned, hurling his big hairy body at Nick’s chest and knocking him to the floor. The coffee table splintered and crashed beneath the two powerful werewolves, sending polished wood flying across the room.

  Snarling and biting at each other, they rolled about the floor; fur flew in a haze of angry growls and muffled roars. Janna shrank into the far corner of the room, anxious to stay out of the foray and helpless to stop its progression. She held her breath and watched while each were bit and gnashed at the other, some bites landing on target and causing a loud yowl of protest. She spied numerous bloodstains on their thick coats as their vicious attacks continued and the furniture in the room was rapidly being destroyed as they grappled to be the better were.

  Short of having a gun and firing into the air, Janna didn’t know of a way to stop the battle. She felt helpless. One were seemed as determined as the other to gain the upper hand. She looked at the blood splattered coats—Rick’s dark blond and Nick’s coal black fur—and willed the fight to be over—only to see Rick gain the upper hand. He saw an opening and took full advantage of it, chomping down quickly on Nick’s tender neck. The were stilled immediately—afraid of the rending threat of the sharp incisors buried in his throat.

  Janna took advantage of the opportunity to rush from her place of safety to the furious weres locked in such vicious combat in the middle of the floor.

  “Stop it right now!”

  The pair seemed to pause, momentarily aware of their actions, though when a were was in wolf form, his anger was hard to abate once he fully allowed it to take control of him. She watched the pair, sensing their anger waning. Rick moved slowly, pulling his fangs from Nick’s throat and easing his big body upward, releasing Nick from the pinned position beneath him. Momentarily he stood and Changed into human form.

  Nick jumped to his feet, shook his black coat, and slunk off to the side of the room. Momentarily he too Changed form, healing the bite marks Rick had inflicted on him while he was in wolf form.

  The victor was clearly noted as Rick swaggered toward Janna.

  “Don’t expect me to declare a winner,” she spat. “You two destroyed my living room. Look at this mess.”

  The coffee table lay in splinters dispersed about the room; the carpet was shredded from their claws; the couch was upended and leaning against the wall; a china table lamp was broken into several pieces.

  “Pay up! And don’t argue with me!” She poked out one hand, intending to collect money from them both for new furniture.

  Sheepishly, both weres delved into their pockets and handed over money to Janna.

  “Now, I want you both to leave! I’m going to bed—alone!”

  * * * *

  The shadowy form moved across the room, drawing closer and closer to the bed. Janna laid still, her blood burning, her emotions electrically charged. Anticipation gathered in her belly, her limbs ached for release.
The figure eased forward, as though propelled by some magical force, silent and eerie.

  The room suddenly took on a misty quality, as though something filmy and gauzy had mysteriously draped itself over the glow of the moon. Another mystic form moved toward her from another portion of the room, gliding easily as though on ghost feet. She held her breath and watched it move with frightened eyes.

  The forms began to take shape before her eyes, soon resembling men—men she had invited into her bedroom. She felt a shiver of lust quake through her insides. She felt the urge to splay her legs, to toss aside the thin cover of sheet and light quilt; she wanted the attentions she sensed they were conveying to her—however magical or surreal.

  She heard her heart beating frantically in her ears, could feel the weight of the sheet heavy on her aroused breasts. Her nipples ached for want of touch. She slid her hand upward and pushed down the cover, exposing her gown covered breasts. The moonlight, though it appeared hazy from the filter across the moon, shown across the bed in eerie shades of gray and ebony.

  She felt her crotch moisten, felt the female juices ooze from her body and lay moist on her skin, just beyond her hair-roughened pussy lips. She smoothed one palm along her body, beginning just above her right breast, sliding gently along the crest of her mound, over her peaked nipple, and onto her flat stomach.

  She pulled in a sighing breath. The touch felt good, necessary in her Moon Phase. She felt as though her flesh begged to be fondled; needing the arousal that hands could bring and the release that she craved beyond reason. She was burning up with desire. She slid her hand lower on her body, the forms drew closer, taking on towering human forms, manly forms that reached out to her senses, promising, promising…

  Her fingers found her bushy crotch, stroked her sensitive lips with teasing promise, felt the moisture gathered there. She closed her eyes and savored the touch.

  “I’ll give you fulfillment,” the dark form said in a whisper soft tone.

  He stood beside the bed, looking down at her as she caressed her crotch, stroked her pussy with her fingers, gazed up at him.

  “I can give you fulfillment beyond your wildest expectations.”