by Tasha Black
The sound of Grace’s Civic pulling up outside pulled Ainsley out of her self-pity and got her moving. She dashed out to the porch.
The men on her front lawn had stopped pacing to stare at the commotion coming from the car.
Grace and Julian were whispering heatedly to each other. Julian was carrying something wrapped in a blanket.
“Change of plans,” Ainsley said. “Take her to your place. Ophelia is coming here. I’ll try to head her off.”
“But, why are all these men -?” Grace began.
“No time to explain!” Ainsley yelled over her shoulder.
Chapter 13
Julian tucked Sadie into the backseat of Grace’s tiny car as gently as he could.
“What the hell is going on?” Julian whispered.
A group of men wordlessly pacing Ainsley’s front garden, with more heading down Princeton to join them. They didn’t seem threatening, exactly, but there was something driving them that made it feel like their silence could explode into violence at the slightest spark.
“Just move,” Grace told him as she slid behind the wheel.
The sound of her seatbelt strap sliding tight against her slender hip did things to Julian that almost made him ashamed.
He hopped into the passenger seat and she began to pull out before his own seat belt clicked. He was glad to see that she wasn’t driving quickly or carelessly, though. She pulled out onto Princeton slowly, with admirable restraint given the circumstances.
He glanced over and took her in. Grace’s posture was excellent as usual. The only sign of the tension she felt was a slight tightening in the corner of her lovely mouth.
“Now what?” he asked, wondering how the young woman would handle their major change in plans. Grace seemed like the kind of person who always had a plan.
“We’ll take her to my apartment. Camilla Parker Bowles will be glad to see her.”
Julian nodded. It hadn’t occurred to him to wonder what had happened to the little dog after Charley escaped. He didn’t exactly picture Grace as a dog person. But taking responsibility for the orphaned animal without making a big deal about it seemed in character for the steadfast friend he was getting to know.
They pulled up to an old Victorian right around the corner on Elm. Grace tucked her car into the driveway, triggering a floodlight which illuminated the backyard. On the street behind them, a man walked intently toward Princeton. He must be reporting for prowling duty in Ainsley’s garden.
He thought to ask if Ainsley would be okay, but he knew Grace would never leave her friend in danger.
Grace hopped out of the car in a heartbeat. She headed toward the back door of the house, but when she reached the porch, she leapt onto the railing like a cat, and leaned out over the forsythia bushes. What could she be doing?
Her small hand snaked out, and when the light went off, he realized she had unscrewed the bulb on the motion sensor floodlight.
Smart.
She returned to the car and placed a finger to her lips, unnecessarily. Julian knew this was a small town and if the Victorian was chopped into apartments, the neighbors were likely to be intensely nosy about each other’s comings and goings.
Once again, he scooped Sadie up with an arm under her neck and the other under her hips. She was blessedly small, for a wolf.
As stealthily as he was able, he followed Grace to the back door and carried Sadie up three flights of stairs. At each landing, his heart raced at the idea that a neighbor might peek out of a doorway.
They made it up to Grace’s apartment without incident. She opened the door to a very tidy little flat with a fireplace and charming sloped ceilings.
Grace slipped out of her shoes and padded through the living room, to a bedroom on the other side. Julian followed as quietly as he could. He couldn’t help but notice the lingering aroma of actual home-cooked meals in the kitchen. Most women Grace’s age seemed to eat out of a microwave box or a take-out container these days. It was refreshing to think of Grace humming and preparing a quiet meal.
Once they were in the bedroom, Grace turned on a small table lamp, revealing a twin bed with a simple down comforter, a cane rocking chair, and a trio of framed pictures on a pine bureau.
He raised his eyebrows and gestured to the bed. Did she want this shaggy bundle on her clean linens?
Grace nodded, so he lowered wolf-Sadie to the bed. For the first time, he pulled back the sheet that covered her.
Grace stepped forward and they both gazed down at the prone form of a large grey wolf. Sadie’s dark whiskers quivered like she was tracking something in a dream. Her wide front paws twitched slightly as if to dig at Grace’s snow white sheets.
Julian couldn’t resist reaching down to stroke her thick pelt. It was softer than it looked, and warm, as if she had been lying in the sun. But Sadie didn’t respond.
Grace placed a hand on his arm. An electric current ran through him and he closed his eyes. She gasped and removed her hand.
By the time he opened his eyes again she was gone, but he heard the sound of tiny paws skittering across the pine floors of the flat.
Camilla Parker Bowles tore into the room and sailed through the air to land at Sadie’s side. Immediately, she flopped herself down next to the wolf and tucked her tiny snout into the indentation between Sadie’s shoulder and head. Mournfully, she looked up at Julian for a long moment, then closed her eyes.
Julian backed away from the sad scene as he heard Grace’s light steps in the kitchen.
“She’s crated when I’m not here. I don’t know what else to do. She doesn’t seem to mind,” Grace explained.
“They like the feeling of a den,” Julian said, quoting some dog trainer or other.
“Mmm,” Grace said, but her expression was uncertain.
Julian knew he should just go. He had managed to spend two hours with Grace without screwing it up royally. It would be great to leave on an up-note for once.
“I guess I should--” he began.
“Have you eaten?” she asked at the same time. She smiled. It was a nervous smile but her eyes were hopeful.
“I haven’t eaten, no,” he said, hoping it wasn’t a mistake, but not really caring, especially if staying might mean another smile. “I guess I just didn’t think about it, what with all the kidnapping and werewolves and whatnot.”
“Yes, you’re new to Tarker’s Hollow,” Grace nodded, “I’m sure it can be overwhelming at first.”
“At first?” he asked. “Do you mean to tell me that this was just an average Saturday night for you?”
Grace laughed and ran a hand across her cheek to smooth a stray tendril back up into her gleaming bun.
“No, tonight was actually pretty crazy, even for Tarker’s Hollow.” She turned and looked into his eyes earnestly. “I’m really glad you were there.”
“Me too,” Julian managed as his heart hiccuped. “So, what’s for dinner?”
“Something easy...Pancakes?” she asked.
“Perfect,” he nodded.
“Okay, but I need to change first,” she said, and indicated the stool at the counter.
Julian smiled and pulled it up close to the counter so he could watch her work when she returned.
Grace disappeared into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.
Julian tried not to imagine her taking off the uniform, but knowing she was naked just a few steps away drove him more than a little crazy. He looked around the kitchen, desperate for a distraction.
A small round tin on the counter drew his attention. He pulled it over and as he did, he thought he heard bells ringing in the distance.
The tin itself was a simple thing, meant for Christmas cookies, although it was a bit too early for that. The picture on the lid depicted the creche, with baby Jesus in his manger, and the animals watching over him, shaggy and gentle.
Julian took a look around. The tin seemed out of place in Grace’s carefully appointed apartment.
What could b
e inside?
He glanced up at the door, but it gave him no clue as to how much longer she would be changing clothes.
Unable to contain his curiosity, Julian spun the lid, applying gentle pressure. He found the contents less mysterious than he’d hoped.
Simple cookies, shaped like pigs. Their aroma was heavenly. Surely Grace wouldn’t mind if he helped himself to one while he waited.
Grace’s bedroom door flew open before he had gotten the cookie halfway to his mouth. She gasped and stared at him in horror.
“I am SO sorry,” he said, quickly returning the pig to the tin with its brethren. “I saw the pretty tin and I was curious. And then they seemed so delicious.”
“That’s okay,” she said breathlessly, in a way that made him sure it was not okay, though he couldn’t imagine why. It was embarrassing that she’d caught him looking at her cookie tin, but it wasn’t like he’d been pawing through her lingerie or anything.
“They smell delightful. Did you make them?”
“No, my abuela - my grandmother- did,” she explained as she replaced the lid to the tin and put it on the counter, out of his reach.
“That’s nice,” he said carefully.
“She’s a good cook,” Grace said, a bit more calmly.
Julian looked on as she began to gather ingredients for pancakes, glad the crisis seemed to be averted. She had changed into a cream colored scoop neck t-shirt and a pair of black yoga pants. So she wasn’t trying to impress him. Her hair was still up in the bun. He longed for her to take it down.
“Do you cook often?” he asked, noticing with approval she had gotten out flour and baking powder, instead of a box mix.
“It’s relaxing,” she replied.
As she cracked the first egg, it slipped from her fingers. Without a thought, Julian murmured a hovering spell and stopped it from crashing into the bowl, shell and all.
“Hey!” she said, and twirled her wrist in the air, commanding the egg to hover backward, toward herself, as though she were going to hurl it back at him.
An adorable spark of mischief danced in her eyes.
“No,” he cried.
“You’re afraid of a little egg?” she teased.
“No, but I remember what that magic does to you.”
His words hung in the air a moment. Too late, he remembered that Grace hadn’t been the one to tell him about the price of her magic.
“Would that be so bad for you?” Her eyes narrowed and she lifted the egg even higher. “Would being with a woman with lowly cottage magic be such a punishment?”
“Of course not,” he said.
Julian wasn’t sure if that was the right answer or if it was a trick question, but at this point he was finished playing games. Time to lay the cards on the table.
“I want you, Grace. Badly. And I think you want me too. But I need to know the feelings are coming from you, and not because of the magic.”
In her surprise at his words, she let go of her hold on the egg. It dropped out of the air and splattered on the linoleum.
Grace met his gaze, and her expression softened. For the first time, Julian felt hope. Then she appeared to get hold of herself.
“Why do you like me so much?” she asked, reaching for a handful of paper towels. “You don’t respect me.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because every time I see you, you manage to insult my family’s magic.”
“I respect you personally, as a friend to Ainsley, as a police officer and as a woman,” Julian said. “But it’s true that I don’t think you are getting as much out of your magic as you could if you studied formally. You have an incredible gift that ought to be developed. Your...trouble is a perfect example of why.”
“If it hadn’t been for my magic, where would Erik Jensen be?” she shot back as she bent to clean up the broken egg.
“You were amazing that night,” he said. “I’ll give you that. But it was too much. You could have died.”
Grace deposited the mess in the trash bin, and retrieved another egg from the fridge.
“You’re right,” she said, and paused, considering. “But I didn’t. And neither did Erik.”
“You were very brave,” he told her truthfully.
She smiled at that, and reached for the tendril of hair that kept slipping from her bun. Before Julian knew what he was doing, he grabbed her wrist.
He was close to her now, so close he could feel her pulse hammering through that delicate wrist as fast as a bird’s.
“Put the egg down. No more cooking. And no more putting up your hair. I want to see it down.”
He waited for her to argue, or resist. She was the very definition of a modern woman. She would probably be offended at him telling her what to do. Or worse.
But control meant everything to him. And seeing her surrender hers again was all he wanted. This time all for him - not for the magic.
He heard the egg touch the bowl as she put it down. It was like a concerto.
“Take your hair down,” he said, letting go of her wrist.
Her eyes widened, but she obeyed him, slipping her fingers upward to pull the pins out of the bun, one by one. It was the most sensuous thing he’d ever seen.
“Good girl,” he breathed.
Her eyes sparkled with pleasure at his approval.
She pulled out the last pin and then slipped out the elastic. A toss of her head unleashed a cascade of dark hair. It was long, longer than he had imagined - smooth and silky and fragrant. He wanted to bury his face in it, lose himself in the lush femininity she hid from the world, from everyone but Julian.
She stood before him with an inscrutable expression. He admired how relaxed she was under his command. Like she was born to bend to his will.
He reached out and ran his hands through her hair. The silken strands flowed between his fingers like liquid. The scent of jasmine washed over him.
Grace closed her eyes in pleasure at his touch and he was nearly overcome with the way his heart pounded in response.
He leaned forward and brushed her lips lightly with his once, twice. On the third sweep she sighed and her lips parted.
Blazing with satisfaction, he grasped her jaw with one hand and devoured her mouth, sinking his tongue into her in just the rhythm he wanted to possess her with.
He wrapped his other hand around a thick ribbon of her gorgeous hair and used it to drag her closer. Her heart pounded harshly now and her breathing deepened. His own body screamed demands, but he ignored them to concentrate on Grace.
She trembled in his arms, her small body warm and welcoming.
Julian slid his hand down from her jaw to follow the curve of her ribcage to her hip. She was all hard angles, but he could feel her willing her body to soften for him.
Breaking their kiss, he pulled back slightly and looked into her eyes again.
Grace panted lightly, her lips pink and swollen from his attention. Her eyes were endless dark pools.
Julian could hardly believe he was about to ask her to stop.
Chapter 14
Ainsley hoped Grace and Julian would figure out what to do about Sadie.
There was no way she was going to let Ophelia come to her house and see the craziness in her front yard, so Ainsley would have to find her quickly.
She ran a few feet into the woods behind her house, then peeled off her clothes as fast as she could and stashed them next to a tree.
The moonlight on her bare skin aroused and intoxicated her. She took a panicked breath, then pursed her lips and let it out slowly. She needed to put these feelings aside.
Inhaling deeply again, she tried to catch Ophelia’s scent. The smells of the dozen males milling around the front lawn of her own house overpowered everything.
Her eyes closed and she dropped into her auburn wolf.
She sucked in the night air until she could feel it cool her hips.
Still, she smelled the males out front and the squirrel in the oak above
her, and the neighbor’s dog, and the exhaust from a car’s fumes a few blocks away. But no Ophelia.
Frustrated, she planted her paws shoulder width apart, and shook herself until her pelt rippled loosely around her ribcage.
Then she sniffed the air again.
Somewhere, woven into the scents of the woods, was something unfamiliar.
Ainsley trotted towards it. The underbrush scratched at her thick pelt, soothing and distracting her at once.
The scents of other wolves in the woods began to tickle her nose. There were so many.
Ainsley had spent most of the last full moon in Erik’s bed. And on his floor, and up on his kitchen countertop, and out on his porch, and even once in his front yard when they were trying to get to the car to run to the grocery store for steaks.
Would all the wolves of Tarker’s Hollow be out in the woods tonight? What would they be doing besides running?
Not knowing the answer made Ainsley nervous. She picked up the pace.
After another five minutes she began to worry. She should have found Ophelia by now.
Desperately, she hoped it wasn’t a test. She pictured Ophelia with a stop watch, shaking her head as Ainsley proved what a lousy tracker she was.
Every cell in Ainsley’s body sprang to life. In an instant, she was invigorated and pulled with magnetic force in the opposite direction.
Her clever paws followed the wordless command and she found herself hurtling through the trees, each leap making her more anxious to take the next.
Ophelia must be calling her.
The power of the call was unquestionable. Obeying it wasn’t just a necessity though, it filled Ainsley’s chest with a sweet, pleasant sensation.
Instinctively, Ainsley fought the warm glow. Until moments before she became the alpha, Ainsley had never been a wolf. She had never answered to a superior animal. It was distasteful to her, and the appeal of it made it feel sinister.
But she didn’t stop following the command, that would have been unthinkable. As she sailed over the pine needles, paws barely touching the ground, Ainsley wondered if her own call was the only reason anyone in the pack liked her, the only reason they obeyed her.
