Just One Bite: Dances With Werewolves Book One
Page 10
It shot me one last glance, almost looking apologetic—that’s a good one—and then ran into the park on the left and disappeared out of sight.
I closed the garage and limped my way back into the house to see if the damn dog had done any damage. If it broke skin I’d need a rabies shot. Hmm, would I have to report a dangerous animal to the police?
I pulled up my pant leg to see. Crap. I had a bunch of bleeding holes in my leg and the frigging dog had ruined my new Peter Nygard pants. Yup. I was going to call the police now. I’d only worn those pants twice, fer crying out loud! In the bathroom I threw some hydrogen peroxide on the wounds enjoying the fizziness—it always seems like it must be curing something—and then turned on the shower. If I was going to hang around a hospital emergency room then I might as well be clean and comfy.
As I stripped I noticed the wounds had already stopped bleeding and didn’t hurt any more. Wow, that was fast. Maybe they were just superficial. Under the water, I watched in amazement as the skin healed together. The redness paled until it was totally gone. WTF? I glanced at my pants on the floor to ensure I hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing, but no, my green dress pants still sported tear marks and blood stains.
What now? I obviously wouldn’t need a rabies shot but what if there was something weird under my skin? I also couldn’t report the vicious stray as nobody would believe me. Hell, I don’t think I believed me.
****
“Oh hell, Lucas. Now I’m really screwed.” Robert had barely finished transitioning from wolf form before speaking. He grabbed the spare sweats he knew Lucas kept stashed behind his Lexus for emergency use. The matching grey t-shirt was folded neatly on the shelf next to the spare can of motor oil. Knowing Lucas, it surprised him his brother hadn’t organized his garage alphabetically.
“What? And where’ve you been all day. Mom was trying to reach you.”
Robert rolled his eyes as he threw on the clothes. “Is Mom ever not trying to reach one of us? I swear that woman lives to meddle.” The shirt was a little tight. He looked down. God, he looked like those jerks at the gym trying to show off their muscles.
“True, but that doesn’t answer my question.”
“I accidently got locked in the woman’s garage.” Robert headed into Lucas’s house, avoiding his brother’s eyes.
“What woman?”
“The one who bought the photo. I figured I’d sneak in to her house through the garage, but I hadn’t considered her having such good security from inside. Turned out I needed a special code to unlock the garage door to exit.”
“So how’d you escape?”
“She eventually opened the door but…” Robert rubbed his jaw with his hands. Sometimes with quick transitions it felt like his face was still furry. No, just the usual five o’clock shadow. He glanced around Lucas’s kitchen for any good snacks. Nada.
“What happened?” Lucas’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Robert sighed. “I’d fallen asleep, and, well, she tripped over me, and you know I’m crabby when I get woken up…”
“What did you do?” The horror in Lucas’s voice indicated he’d already guessed the problem.
“Yeah. I bit her.” Robert stared at his brother waiting for the long lecture to begin.
“Oh shit. And you drew blood?” Lucas groaned when Robert nodded. “You’ve got to go warn the poor woman. And fast. She’s probably already scared out of her wits about the instant healing.”
“But how do I tell her she’s going to become a werewolf? She’ll probably freak, thinking she’ll get hairy and long claws like Wolverine. What did you tell your wife after Annabelle bit her?”
“She didn’t believe me about me being a werewolf until I actually transitioned in front of her. Then she threw up and ordered me out of her apartment.”
“Great.” Robert eyed Lucas’s liquor cabinet in the next room until he noticed Lucas shaking his head. “Okay. I’m going. Hope she doesn’t scream or cry. Hate it when women do that.”
He started to leave when Lucas’s voice stopped him. “Be nice. It’s not her fault you bit her. And if she does freak out and go to the police, it’s gonna cause a lot of problems for the whole pack.”
“I know. You don’t have to remind me.” Robert patted his pocket for his cell before remembering he was wearing Lucas’s clothes. “Call me a cab, will ya?” With a desultory wave, Robert ambled out the door. He sure hoped the pack wouldn’t pressure him into marrying the woman. It’d been different with Lucas, he’d been in love with his human. Jesus, what a bloody mess.
****
Only this morning Robert had been so optimistic sneaking into the cluttered garage on Euclid Avenue. Now here he was ten hours later trudging up the front steps to face the consequences. It felt even longer having been incarcerated in the garage for almost nine hours. The house was a cute, simple two storey in a not-expensive neighbourhood, so why the heck would the woman have a high tech security system in place? Probably for the same reason she’d clung so fiercely to his damn family photo. She’s whacko. Funny how the crazy ones all seem to be short and cute. Probably why he steered clear of that type.
Robert pasted a friendly smile on his face before pushing the doorbell. A series of descending chimes rang inside. He hadn’t even realized they still sold doorbells like that. There were no other sounds inside and he was contemplating leaving when the door opened seven inches. Odd, usually he would’ve picked up on her footsteps.
She blinked. Then her eyes scanned down his torso before she caught herself. Damn he forget he was still wearing Lucas’s too-tight clothes. He probably looked like a male stripper.
She cleared her throat and stared pointedly at his eyes. “Hello. What can I do for you?” Her voice was decidedly guarded and her face not much friendlier.
He forced his smile even more. “My name is Robert Colbert and I need to talk with you.”
“If it’s about the picture, you might as well save your breath.” She started to close the door.
“No!” He shot his hand out to stop it. “It’s about the dog bite.”
“What?” Her jaw dropped and she let out a surprised huff. “How the hell do you—?”
“I know you’re probably feeling weirded out about it, I mean the instant healing and all that, and I can help.” God, he wished he’d asked Lucas more about how he’d broached the subject. “Can I come in?”
She stared at him in silence for a moment and he watched intrigued, as a series of thoughts and emotions crossed her face. She shook her head, but then opened the door and nodded her head toward the living room.
The sight of his family portrait on her mantelpiece unnerved him. Then again if he handled it right, soon she’d be part of the pack, too. Where to start?
“I’m sorry, I didn’t actually get your name.”
“What, the auction house gave you my address but withheld my name?” She sniffed. “How discreet of them.”
“The auction house? Oh. No, it’s a little more complicated than that.”
“Then how did you get my address?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Maybe not to you, but I’d still like to know.”
Jesus, she wasn’t going to let it go. “I got a friend in the DMV to run your licence plates. He gave me your address.”
“But not my name?”
“Okay, Emilia Carol-Ann Wilton, yes, he gave me your name too. I was just trying to be polite and let you introduce yourself.” He shook his head at her truculent expression—if she’d only smile, she wouldn’t look half-bad. Actually she’d look pretty damn good. He shook his head. Given her stubbornness, he’d probably never know for sure.
He continued, “And you’re thirty-two, five feet, five inches tall, astigmatism in your right eye, one hundred and thirty pounds, never married, studied at NYU in your twenties, your family resides out east in Pennsylvania, and you work at LoveLifeStyle as a freelance journalist. Happy now?”
Her mouth dropped open an
d she gasped. “The department of motor vehicles has all that info on me? And they gave it out? Jeez almighty.” She dragged her hair back through her fingers. It looked silky. His hand twitched as he imagined touching the long blonde strands. He shoved his hand in his pocket.
“I had other sources, too. But what we need to discuss is your dog—”
“What other sources?”
“Never mind! Focus, woman. You were bitten by a werewolf and now you’re one too!” Man, that was a gentle way to break the news.
Strangely her face relaxed. He’d expected his revelation would make her tenser. He waited. Maybe she needed a few seconds to process what he’d said.
“This is some sort of joke, right?” She glanced around, a smile sneaking onto her face. “Is there a hidden camera somewhere?” She eyed his body as if he might be wearing a camera and he was again reminded of his ill-fitting clothes. Hell, two could play that game. When her eyes returned to his face he raised his eyebrows and she blushed.
“No joke.”
“Yeah right. So how would you know?”
Robert looked up to the ceiling and took a deep breath before facing her again. “I was the wolf that bit you.”
She just stared. Had she even heard him?
“I didn’t mean to bite you. But you kicked me first.”
“I didn’t kick you—I mean the dog. I tripped over it. And what was it, or you…” she shook her head looking decidedly frustrated. “…doing in my garage anyway?”
“I was just—” Damn, don’t mention the photo. “I got trapped in there and so I decided to nap. I woke up when you tripped over me. The bite was self defense.” Great, now he sounded like a crazy guy who bites anyone in the morning.
“You’re a werewolf?” She started laughing. If it wasn’t directed at him it would’ve been a cute laugh—high pitched with the occasional snort. “B-but you’re like some rich TV guy.”
Hah! She did recognize him. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“I don’t know. It just seems funny.”
“So you believe me?”
“No. Would you believe me if I told you I was a sphinx?”
“A what?”
“A mythical half-cat creature.”
“You’re just making that up.”
“And you’re not? Okay. Prove you’re a werewolf.”
“Right.” Robert stood and removed his shirt. She raised her eyebrows, almost daring him to continue. Okay. He peeled off his sweat pants and hunkered down into the downward dog position. Don’t think about the woman now staring at my naked body. Bloody hell! I’m getting an erection. Concentrate!
The creaking and popping of cartilage, bones and muscles rearranging within his body erased any erotic thoughts, although as he neared his completion he wondered whether she’d be repulsed or turned on by his ability. None of his human lovers had ever known of his other form. After the final fur coated his tail, he turned to face the woman. Her face was ashen, but she didn’t seem to be running to upchuck or anything.
“Wow.” She tilted her head and stared some more. “Amazing.” She raised her voice and spoke slowly. “Can you understand me?”
Robert nodded.
“Jeez. You are the dog that bit me. Or I guess wolf?” She leaned over to peer into his eyes. “Could you change back, please? This is creeping me out.”
Robert returned to his yoga position and switched back. Surprising how vulnerable he felt transitioning in front of a human. And even more vulnerable standing naked in front of a woman he wasn’t sleeping with. He feigned nonchalance as he threw on his sweats.
“What happens now?” She was remarkably calm.
“You’ll be fine until the next full moon and then you’ll have to shift into a wolf as well. Since I accidently turned you, I’ll help you through your first transition.”
Her facial expression was blank as she seemed to be absorbing the news. Then she slowly shook her head. “Gee, thanks. I think I’ll pass.”
Great. She was in denial. “You won’t have a choice, but I’ll make it as easy as possible. The next full moon is in six days. Do you have any questions?”
“So your whole family are—? Oh my word! Is that your family?” She pointed at the wolf picture.
“Yup.”
“And the people behind Designed by Colbert were werewolves? I can see vampires might be good at decorating, but wolves?” She laughed, but it was a friendlier sound. “I’m surprised you didn’t turn everyone’s homes and businesses into dark caves or forests.”
“First of all, no, the producers and crew on Designed by Colbert were not werewolves, just me. My family runs Colbert Enterprises where we make and import fine furniture, and yes that company is made up of mostly werewolves. And secondly, what makes you think vampires would have any better design sense? They’d probably paint everything red and black. And zombies would be too slow to ever get any decorating jobs finished, if we’re going for stereotypes.” He shook his head and chuckled. “I, for one, don’t believe in vampires or zombies. But if you’re game for bloodsucking bats and braineaters, then more power to you.”
“Interesting.” She tapped her top lip with her forefinger and his eyes followed. “One mythical character doesn’t believe in other ones.”
“Obviously I’m not mythical. I’d pinch you to prove it, but having already bitten you, it seems redundant.” Robert tried to recall the last time he’d had a real conversation with an attractive woman without wanting to get into her pants. It was fun. Of course, now that he thought about it, he would like to have sex with her. Damn. That would complicate things. “But we’re getting off topic. The main thing we need to discuss here is how to ease your first and subsequent transitions into a wolf.”
She placed one hand on her hip. “I told you, I’m not doing it.”
He grumbled in frustration. Determination was one thing, but this woman was delusional if she thought she could avoid her fate. “Tell you what, Emilia. I’ll pick you up for dinner tomorrow night and inform you what to expect. It’s not that scary. And once you’ve tried running at midnight with the gang, you’ll love it.”
“I doubt it. I hate jogging. And my friends call me Ella. Emilia sounds like some old doddering aunt.” An odd spark appeared in her eyes. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll go out with you and let you try to convince me to be a werewolf—” Her hand shot up, palm toward him to stop him from interrupting. “—if you’ll agree to let me interview you for a magazine article.”
“Are you nuts? You can’t out me for your magazine!” Holy Christ. Now he was wishing she’d just barfed and thrown him out. It would’ve been simpler. “What else will it take for you to let me teach you how to transition into a wolf?”
“Not an article on your wolf thing. Obviously.” Disdain dripped from her words. “I’d interview you for my article on using sex to sell business.”
“Colbert Enterprises does not use—”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah right. But the TV show sure did. Women didn’t only watch Designed by Colbert to get expensive designing tips. They were also watching for those days when you took your shirt off and pretended to actually work.”
Robert’s jaw fell open. “Huh?”
“Come on. You knew. Otherwise why did the shirt come off more often as the show continued?”
“It was hard work.” Robert stifled the smile sneaking onto his lips. He wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of knowing she’d won. “Back to business. What time should I pick you up tomorrow?”
“Six-thirty? And somewhere nice, please.”
“You drive a hard bargain.” He chuckled. “I guess that’s good if you decide you want to join Colbert Enterprises.”
“We’ll see about that.” She walked to the door. “This has been…interesting, but it’s been a long day. Goodnight.”
Robert took several long strides to catch up to her. Jesus, he couldn’t remember when he’d last been given the bum’s rush, but this woman took
it to a higher art form. She reached out to shake his hand. Screw that. He took her hand and brought it to his lips. She trembled at the unexpected feel of his lips brushing the top of her knuckles. He’d regained control. “I’m sorry I bit you, Ella. I’ll make your entry into the werewolf society as painless as possible.”
She pulled her hand back, a blush creeping up her face. “Hey, crap happens.” She smiled as she ushered him outside. “Goodnight.”
“Goodni—” The door had already closed.
Purchase First Bite Is The Deepest and continue reading!
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This book series wouldn't and couldn't have happened without the amazing help from my fellow writers. Thanks especially to Jacqui Nelson for critiquing and computer wizardry, Terry Mitchell for the amazing art, publishing knowledge and procrastination wrangling, and Kay Gregory for tea, sympathy and copious amounts of wine as I wrestled my werewolves into submission.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Living in New York and Toronto, Nora Snowdon was a jerk of all trades–one week hawking toys at major toy conventions, the next in a high-end jewelry store pandering to the rich. She worked in the financial market, gambling dens, environmental protection, food service industry and sold shoes. During these years she also either appeared in or directed twenty-five plays.
Then Nora moved to the wet coast, took up health foods (dark chocolate and red wine) and became a Writer of Elegant Smut, (Although apparently her books are generally considered to be Romantic Comedies. Go figure.) Her ambition is to become a crazy cat lady and wine hoarder, not necessarily in that order.
You can read more about Nora at
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