Janna's Werewolf

by Fawn Lowery

  Chapter Eighteen

  Janna stared at Rick across the crystal edge of her wine glass. Dinner had burned, the house had filled with thick black smoke, the oven was probably ruined. She listened as Rick gave his order to the waiter, smiling slightly.

  “I want my steak rare.” He gave Janna a wink. “Lots of butter on my baked potato.”

  “I’ll have the same,” she murmured and handed the menu to the waiter.

  Rick reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “How long do you suppose it will take for the smoke to clear out of the house?” His voice was low pitched, teasing. A slanted smile graced his face.

  “You know how much those steaks set me back?”

  He chucked and squeezed her hand.

  “And the stove may be ruined.” She rolled her eyes at him and shook her head.

  “You’ll be moving soon anyway.”

  She felt the jolt his words brought to her body.

  “You can design your own kitchen, babe. The interior designer is at your disposal. Pick the layout, decide on the appliances, where and what type of countertops you want—“

  “Rick,” she interrupted.

  “I love you, Janna. I want you to marry me.”

  She pulled her hand free of his and looked warily around the restaurant. It was virtually empty, since it was a weeknight and well past the normal dinner hour. Still, she didn’t want anyone overhearing their conversation.

  “I know. You’re not ready to give me your answer.” He smiled slightly. “I can wait. But, seriously, I could use your help with the kitchen—since I saw you trying to cook once.”

  She giggled out loud in spite of herself. She raised one hand and covered her mouth, glancing around.

  She saw him then—Nick Austin—standing outside the window of the restaurant.

  She sucked in a quick breath, drawing Rick’s attention.

  “What is it?”

  She picked up her wine glass and took a hefty gulp, wrenching her gaze away from the sight of the werewolf at the window. Had he followed them? Or merely stumbled across their location when he strolled down the sidewalk?

  “Nick Austin is at the front window.”

  Rick jerked his head in the direction of the wide span of windows opening onto the Main Street of Madison.

  “He’s not there now.”

  Janna jerked her head round, peering toward the window where she had seen Austin looking at her. He was gone, vanished as if by magic.

  “Maybe he wasn’t there after all.” She felt silly suddenly, startling Rick and interrupting their dinner out. “Maybe I just thought I saw him.”

  Stop lying!

  She bit her bottom lip. “No. He was there. I saw him. He was looking right at me.” She pulled in a steadying breath. “Rick, I have a plan to trap him and I want you to help me.”

  He stared across the table at her, his gaze steady, his expression somber.

  Janna opened her mouth and began telling him all she had learned that day, the latest from Lieutenant Barton, what had come from her conversations with two of the victim’s families, what she had learned about Mark Gentry, and her fear for her family in Dover Run.

  “I threatened to kill him if I ever saw him again, Janna. I suppose that’s why he hasn’t been around for the past two days.”

  “I’ve felt his presence, Rick. I think he’s been following me.”

  He bristled, clamping his teeth tightly together. A muscle twitched in his lower jaw.

  “He’d be easy to catch, Rick. All we’d have to do—“

  “I won’t let you put yourself in danger, Janna. I already told you that much.”

  “But I’m the one he wants. I’m the one he’s come to Madison to kill.”

  “Are you sure? What about those other poor bastards? Was he just practicing on them for when he finally gets you alone?” He combed one hand through his hair and let out a long sigh. “Your strength can never compare with his, honey. He’d rip your head off in an instant. One swing at you with those sharp claws—“

  He stared across the table at her, his eyes imploring.

  “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

  He shook his head.

  “At least listen to what I have in mind.”

  “We’ve been through this once—or was it twice?”

  She felt anger gather in her gut. “Then what’s your idea for trapping him?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “The next time I see him, I’m going to shoot him.”

  He sounded so nonchalant she gasped and covered her mouth with one hand. “And go to jail for the rest of your life? That’s not such a fucking good plan, Rick.”

  Their food arrived then, and none too soon for Janna. She didn’t know about Rick, but she needed a break from their conversation. Things were moving way too fast. She had all intention of trapping Austin whereas Rick only wanted to shoot him dead, no questions asked.

  They ate in silence. Janna barely tasted the food, her mind on how she was going to convince Rick to help her instead of worrying about him murdering Austin and going to jail. She felt very alone suddenly. She put down her fork and knife and stared across the table at Rick.

  “I’d hate to lose you.” Her tone was sincere, her voice quivering slightly with emotion.

  “Nothing is going to happen to me, and I’m sure as hell not going to let anything happen to you.”

  She felt her heart swell with love for him. She couldn’t deny it any longer. She smiled across the table at him, her hand clasped warmly in his.

  “Let’s talk about this later.”

  She nodded her approval and turned her attention back to her food. One way or another, she told herself, Austin would be dealt with.

  * * * *

  Rick’s fingers slid inside her body, pulled back, slid inside again. Janna eased her hips up, pressing her crotch against the palm of his hand. He was so good with his fingers—and his other delicious parts. She felt the ball of his thumb as it pressed atop her clitoris, began to rub in circular motions while his fingers pumped into her hot passageway.

  “Why are you…making me come…with your fingers when I hold a hard cock in my…hand?” Her voice was breathy, barely leaving her lips before she sucked in a deep breath and let herself enjoy the fruits of his labors.

  He levered himself up on one elbow and stared down into her face, watching as she had the orgasm he brought to her with his caressing fingers.

  “Do you always close your eyes when you climax?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied, her hips lunging against his hand.

  He kissed her cheek. “And breathe through your mouth?”

  “What is this—twenty questions?” She opened her eyes and stared up at him.

  “I’m just observing you. You close your eyes and breathe through your mouth. Your breasts jiggle temptingly. Your belly contracts. You spread your legs wider.”

  “Are you writing a book?”

  The orgasm took complete control of her body, making her arch her back and grab his hand with both of hers pressing his palm harder against her crotch. She rolled her head on the pillow, panting though her mouth in order to fill her lungs with much needed oxygen. The sensations rolled along her senses, spinning through her limbs with lightening speed.

  “Damn! You’re good…with your…fingers.”

  “Mmmm.” He pulled his hand away and rolled atop her body. “I’m even better with my cock.” He lunged inside her, pinning her with his long length. He began to move, coaxing her to move her hips as he ground his crotch against her sensitive clitoris.

  “You’re making me come again!”

  She hadn’t fully recovered from the first orgasm when the second was upon her. She yelped out loud and let the sensations stream through her insides.

  “I don’t give…a shit…if you are…taking notes, Rick. That…feels wonderful.”

  He laughed and kissed her mouth, pumping into her with a thrusting force that made the bed shake.
Momentarily he shot his wad and collapsed on top of her.

  “I want to spend the rest of my life right here—fucking you.”

  She raked one hand along his back, scratching him with her nails. For the life of her, she couldn’t think of any place she would rather be. A wide grin spanned her face. She felt a wave of contentment wash over her insides.

  * * * *

  Rick was slumbering peacefully beside her. She eased from the bed and tiptoed out of the room. Just a few minutes ago she had stifled a wave of alarm that shook her awake. The uncanny sensation that Nick Austin had suddenly arrived at her house stole through her insides. She ran her hands along her bare arms, trying to ward off the chill of fear she was experiencing. Perhaps she should have awakened Rick—but then he was sleeping so soundly she hated to disturb him.

  She peered out the living room window, her keen gaze slowly traveling over the yard and the house across the street, searching for movement. The glow of the full moon lit the outside, making it easy to inspect each and every tree and shrub in her yard and those of the neighbors. She cast her gaze up the avenue, then down, on the alert for the gleam of headlights.

  Since learning that Austin was really Lee Collins and a former cop, she reminded herself that he not only possessed the wit and cunning of a werewolf, but the trained professionalism of a policeman. He knew how to tail and keep someone under surveillance without being detected.

  She stifled a yawn, covering her mouth with one hand. For the past two nights, she had failed to sleep, spending several hours peering out the window in search of Nick Austin. The lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll on her body. She rubbed the back of her neck with one hand, trying to relax her taut muscles.

  She left the window in the living room after deciding Austin wasn’t in the front of the house—to the best of her knowledge. She walked into the kitchen, situated in the back of the rental house and inched aside the cotton curtain concealing the glass on the backdoor. She looked toward the small stand of trees lining the back yard, her eyes alert for movement. It was harder to see out the back as compared to scanning the front yard. The trees were tall and bushy and cast shadows across the grass. She noticed then there was a bit of a breeze; the treetops were swaying slightly, making it even harder to detect motion.

  She felt weary with it all. She felt the onset of a headache at the back of her eyes. She grimaced and massaged her neck again. If only Austin would throw himself in front of a semi and end it all—she would be so happy. She chuckled to herself.

  If wishes were horses—

  She felt a tingle of awareness grip her nerves suddenly. She listened with her acute hearing, straining her senses to prove her suspicions wrong. Had she heard something, a noise, foreign to the swishing noise the treetops were making as the wind wafted through them? Or had she imagined it all?

  She inched the curtain further to the side, giving her eyesight a wider range of motion. Cautiously she peered at the stand of trees, her gaze moving only minutely as she held her breath. The feeling of intense awareness of danger gripped her gut.

  He’s here!

  Chapter Nineteen

  She felt her teeth clatter together in fright. Her knees felt like rubber. Her breath caught up in her throat. She strained her ears, calling on that acute hearing her werewolf heritage had given her. Her keen werewolf vision darted into the darkness amid the stand of trees lining the back yard and stretching beyond the neighbor’s property. Common ground, it was called, a narrow expanse of woods left by the builder of the subdivision to separate the two phases of the housing project. It was a good place to run, small, yet concealing. And now Nick Austin, a.k.a. Lee Collins a.k.a. rampaging werewolf, had chosen to lurk and watch her house.

  She gritted her teeth. She knew her strength was nothing compared to his—he was bigger, stronger, even before transformation. And since he killed when he Changed, he had grown in strength and ability just from exercising the power the Curse granted to him. She combed a hand through her hair.

  He needs to be stopped.

  She bit on her bottom lip, trying to decide whether to wake Rick or go after Austin alone. The choice could mean life or death for her. Or it could mean she might outwit him—in some manner. She let out a pent up breath, her eyes pinned to one particular spot amid the tree line. She had noticed movement in that area—or at least she thought she noticed movement—she was so rattled emotionally that she couldn’t be sure.

  She turned abruptly. Standing there thinking about it wasn’t getting the job done. She tiptoed back toward the bedroom, pausing at the door to listen for Rick’s easy breathing. Satisfied that he was still sleeping soundly, she crossed the room to the closet and inched the door open. She pulled jeans and a shirt off the hangar and found her tennis shoes on the floor of the closet. Being careful not to make a sound, she hurried out of the room.

  She dressed quickly and began searching for the gun Rick said he had bought. She sure as hell hoped it wasn’t in the bedroom. She didn’t want to risk waking him and having to fend off any questions he would have. She could almost be certain he’d refuse to let her venture outside the house—the only part of her plan so far that didn’t bring her nerves tightening up to the extent that she felt she would puke.

  She remembered then that he had a briefcase when he came home. He had been spending a few hours each day with the editors of the newspaper, trying to learn their schedules and the types of stories they wanted to print. She suspected, though he hadn’t confirmed, that he would squelch each and every story involving werewolf activity in the vicinity.

  She found his briefcase and held her breath while she flipped the latches, releasing the top of the leather case. She skimmed her hands over the contents, and stifled a shiver when her fingers touched the cold hard steel of a gun. She gingerly lifted the weapon and tried its grip in her right hand. Well, she had managed to find it, but could she use it if the need arrived?

  She decided she’d leave through the front door, since it was quieter than the back door, and since she sensed that Austin was lurking in the trees lining the backyard, she didn’t want to take a chance on him seeing her emerge from the house. She mentally cautioned herself that he was smarter and wiser to the ways of stalking than she, she inched the door back on its hinges.

  A squeak as loud as a sonic boom suddenly pierced the quiet of the house!

  Son-of-a-bitch!

  She froze, listening for signs that Rick had been awakened. Finally, after it seemed an hour had passed and she heard nothing from him, she decided the noise hadn’t penetrated his deep sleep. She slipped through the doorway and stepped onto the porch, the gun clutched in her hand, her heart beating in her throat.

  If she could slip up on Austin, she’d shoot first—and forget about asking questions.

  She made her way across the front yard, taking cover in the hedge lining the picket fence separating her yard from the next-door neighbor’s. She crouched for a moment, gathering her courage and flexing her hold on the gun handle. She realized then that it was weighty.

  I hope to hell it’s loaded.

  She stifled a shiver of foreboding and began to move, crouched low and keeping to the bushes. She began working her way to the back of the property, her eyes on the line of trees where she thought Austin waited.

  She paused and tipped her nose in the air. The unmistakable musk of a werewolf came to her nostrils, reinforcing her sense that he was indeed in the trees directly in front of her. She pulled the scent into her lungs, hating the aroma and the memories it carried.

  He’s probably scented me by now!

  She knew he had.

  It was inevitable.

  The urge to transform suddenly came over her. She would have more power, more agility, if she Changed into wolf form—and she needed every advantage she could summon. But could she use the gun when she was Changed? Could her claw-like hands grip the butt and pull the trigger?

  She felt her hopes flag. She couldn’t take the r
isk of transforming and not being able to shoot Austin.

  Shooting the bastard is why I’m out here.

  She moved forward a bit, keeping low, her senses alert, her eyes pinned on the spot amid the trees where she thought he waited. The foreboding feeling she harbored grew in intensity. It was a vivid reminder that she was out there alone, with no one to depend on but herself.

  The tree line was about fifty feet directly in front of her, and the cover of the hedge she had inched along, was at an end. The back yard gave way to a smooth expanse of grass leading right up to the towering oaks and pine trees. It was a pretty sight in the daylight, but the darkness gave it an eerie appearance. Cold shivers of dread raced along her spine as she pulled in a steadying breath and prepared to run across the opening into the concealment of the trees.

  If he’s out there—he’ll make himself known the second I stand up to run.

  She gathered her courage, gripping the butt of the gun in a tight clench as she stood. In the next second, she sprang forward and raced as fast as she could toward the stand of trees.

  She never saw the figure that sprang at her from behind—only felt the powerful grasp on the back of her shirt when it brought her crashing to the ground. The breath was knocked from her lungs; she landed hard, pounding against the unyielding ground on her stomach. A loud whish of breath burst from her mouth and sudden pain streaked through her bones.

  She managed to hang on to the gun as she hit the ground and every fiber in her body knew she had to react immediately. She brought her legs up, raising her body to a position to flee, but the grasp on her shirt held her fast. She pushed with her feet, trying to lever her body to the front, only to feel the pressure increase. In the blink of an eye, she was propelled forward, her feet off the ground and flung into the dense stand of trees.

  She landed on her feet and hands and set off running, with the threatening force quick on her heels. Another moment and she would have broken through the narrow line of trees but once more she was overtaken and thrown to the ground.