by Carys Weldon
The chopper hovered above the complex long enough for us to see Wolf Wonderland, the statue garden in front of the place, and to view the acreage around the enormous building. It spanned acres. I’d been there plenty of times before, but I never got over the awe of how huge the structure was.
I asked my cousin, “You haven’t been here, before, have you?”
He shook his head. “That is magnificent.” His gaze was on the statuesque park.
“Wait ‘til you get inside. You’ve met Hood before, haven’t you?”
“Yeah. He’s pretty intense.”
I chuckled. “You could say that.”
“Don’t look him in the eye.”
I turned to look Frank in the eye.
He gulped. “Men have died for less.”
“I have to look him in the eye. If I don’t, he’ll think I’m prevaricating.”
“Are you planning to lie?”
I thought about that for a minute before saying, “I don’t have anything to lie about, do I?”
He answered my question with a question of his own. “You don’t know anything, do you?”
“I know that Bark did not cheat the company.” I felt it in my bones. I was gonna back my brother up. Never mind that I figured I’d have to hunt him down and kill him. One way or another, he’d let us down.
“I’m seeing doubt in your eyes, Mark.”
“I’m thinking about Bark, but he didn’t steal the money.”
“I know that.”
“Do you know who did?”
“Not yet.”
“You should be at home, going over the books, finding that out.”
Frank very quietly said, “I’m watching our backs, Mark. If someone takes you down, there ain’t nothing gonna save us. Doesn’t matter what the books turn up.”
The chopper hit ground on the cement roof. The door opened.
I knew that Frank was right. Someone was trying to topple Wolf, and possibly Lobos. We stepped out to no welcoming committee, which sort of surprised us both. I remember looking at Frank, and both of us raising our eyebrows. Usually, Lobos stood on convention.
We made our way inside. Things were very quiet.
I asked Frank, “Something seem odd to you?”
“It’s a test.” His beady eyes went left and right, darting like a nervous rat. I could actually hear him swallow.
Sniffing the air, I asked, “What sort of a test?”
“I think we’re being watched.”
That made me smile. I knew he was right. Raising my voice, I said, “Hood. I’m a little disappointed in your manners.”
We didn’t move another step. I liked having an exit door at my back.
Frank didn’t say a word, but I could tell he hated waiting, which struck me as odd. I mean, his whole life, the man had hovered in the wings, waiting for other people around him to make things happen. It occurred to me that Frank would have loved being in charge of Wolf E.--I almost handed it to him right then.
No, really. I thought about saying, “Look, you want the company? I’m outta here.” Let him deal with it all. He’d eventually get it all straightened out. I was sure of it.
But I didn’t get a chance to form the words. Clear as day, in mind talk, he said, I don’t want the company, Mark. Now shut your mind the fuck up.
Shit. I’d let my guard down.
You have to know something...my end of the business runs toward intimidation. For those who can read minds to know what I’m gonna do with them, or thinking about doing to them...tends to engender fear. Letting my mind loose is a good tool to make lupines quiver. Getting a hold of it...really...that was not one of my fortes.
That’s when I saw her for the first time. Right when I was thinking that I needed to get a grip on my brain. Amber came out of a door on one side of the hall, glanced over her shoulder at us, looked us up and down--never smiled. She lifted an eyebrow, pursed her lips and said--in her head--Look what the cat dragged in.
She was referring to me, I just knew it. But, very faintly, I did smell cat. I glanced around behind me. The scent was faint, too faint for most to pick up...just...a certain something that I couldn’t put a finger on.
Frank said aloud, “Excuse me, miss...do you know where we can find Hood?”
My attention went right back to her. I was looking her over. Call me fucked up. I had my dog going instantly at the scent of her. I inhaled a long draw, and let my gaze flicker over her.
Had she fucked a cat man? I don’t know why that thought came to me. I blinked it away, quick. But not quick enough, apparently. Frank elbowed me.
She lifted both eyebrows at me and took me in--to my toes and back up again--just as I did her.
You won’t believe this, but she had on fishnet stockings under her lab coat, which was buttoned. And her shoes weren’t sensible working shoes, either. No nursing flats. She had on some strappy, ankle-wrapped heels. Even had her toenails painted red. From the hem down, she looked like a whore. From there up, she looked like a doctor.
Her hair then was caught in a twist and clipped with a little fringe sticking up. Looked like she’d pulled it up quick. She had on bright red lipstick, too, and that helped me focus on her features. Her face is round, maybe more so because she is overweight, but there was an undeniable beauty in it.
Reaching up, I snugged my tie and straightened it. My sights were narrowed in on her, no question about it. I had a sudden urge to fuck.
I’m a wolf, a man...I’m not apologizing for an instant reaction to a woman that I was attracted to from moment one.
Frank put a hand to my elbow and squeezed with the thought, “Keep it in your pants before you get us killed. What’s wrong with you?”
Amber licked her lips and grinned. She was listening in. “Hood isn’t lost. Is he expecting you?”
Frank volunteered, as he pushed me forward. “He asked us to come.”
Her lips twisted more. “Did he, now? You sure it wasn’t a command?”
We didn’t answer that. Everyone knew how Hood was. He barked. People jumped.
She glanced around. “And he didn’t meet you?”
“Or send anyone else.” I found my tongue. “Seems a little crass to me.”
I hoped Hood was listening. I had things to do, and this meeting was wasting my time. I figured that getting annoyed would help me in the long run.
Amber asked, “Who are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”
Frank started to stutter an introduction, but I stopped him with a hand. First of all, as the new CEO of Wolf E., I knew sure as shit that she knew who I was. Not a wolf on the planet would have missed that changeover. My picture had been on all the satellite broadcasts.
She was belittling me, relegating me to a nothingness and I didn’t like it. I had never been treated ‘less than,’ and I wasn’t about to start then, I didn’t care if my tongue was wagging or not. The alpha in me rose up, that’s all I can say, the minute I laid eyes on her.
I said, “Listen, bitch, why don’t you run along and tell Hood I’m getting pissed at waiting. I’ve got things to do.”
Now, don’t think bitch is a cut-down. Garou women are bitches, female dogs. It’s an appropriate term to use when you don’t know the girl’s name. I didn’t want to ask, because that put me in the position of a beggar, and I was not that by any means.
She smiled, a little condescendingly. Her tongue rolled out, over her lips, and took its time sliding up under her lip, over the front of her upper teeth. “Listen, you little piss-ant son of a bitch, I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but I don’t take orders.”
Frank muttered, “Oh, fuck. Would you two just stop it?” He stepped in front of me and asked, “Where the hell is Hood?”
He didn’t wait for her answer, though, he moved past her. He didn’t look back. I knew he’d sniff out the master and come back. He wasn’t above asking for directions. If she wasn’t giving them, he’d find someone who would.
I, on the oth
er hand, was fucked if I was asking for anything from anyone.
So there we stood. She blocked my path. I wasn’t squeezing past her, and I wasn’t asking her to move. And she, apparently, wasn’t going anywhere.
“Don’t you have something to do?” I resisted adding bitch on the end of that. I leaned up against the wall, letting my shoulder prop me up.
Amber thought about it a minute, then wrinkled her nose. “Not really.”
She had me cornered, and she liked it. I could see it in her eyes.
I glanced down the hall. Nothing. No one. Frank had disappeared.
“You don’t take orders, huh?” I figured, what the hell? I had nothing better to do than chat with her. I could bring her around. Generally, I’m pretty popular with the ladies. Garou tend to be wiry. Lumber wolves are so blocky that it’s a turn on for most bitches. And she wasn’t a scrawny ass anorexic, so I know she wasn’t used to men that were that much bigger than her.
She sniffed. I was sweating pheromones. She admitted, “Not very often.”
I showed her a wolfy grin, inhaling through my teeth, licking an eyetooth. “But you do sometimes.”
She laughed at me, then--threw her head back and let an out-and-out belly laugh loose. “You are a fucking dog. Where’d you fly in from?”
Playing with me.
I said, “You know where I’m from. And you know who I am.”
Glancing down at herself, she fingered the top button of her lab coat. Low cut--I couldn’t help but notice her cleavage. She was toying with me.
A growl escaped my throat, low and barely audible. I thought about a rabbit fuck. You know, something fast.
She said, “Beg me.”
I blinked. I didn’t believe she’d said it.
Worse, I realized that she’d been listening to my thoughts.
“I don’t beg.”
“You’re a dog.”
“Wolf. Big difference.”
She undid the top button, and then another. Again, she said, “Beg.”
To my surprise, I wasn’t seeing any fabric beneath that coat as it parted. My internal panter was going. Saliva filled my mouth, and it was all I could do not to let my tongue out.
Another button. Her fingernails were painted red, too. I glanced from her hand to her toes, just to double check. Yep. Same color.
Another button. At her waist, I saw ribbons and silk. A garter belt? Red against the bronze of her natural skin tone.
My fingers itched to slide that coat aside and take a look. I itched to nuzzle up to her and rub my body against hers. Swallowing became an effort.
Her hand stopped moving. It took me a minute to realize it.
My gaze climbed up the opening to her face. When she was sure I was looking her in the eye, she said, “Just beg.”
I let my gaze dip again. You know, weighing the worth. Seriously thinking about it. What’s a few words to get what you want?
Pushing off the wall, I moved toward her. I didn’t beg, though. I just moved in and kissed her. I figured, what the hell?
Chapter Three
Amber didn’t just let me kiss her. The minute I moved in and dropped my lips to hers and my hands to her hips, she met me. Within a second, her lips parted and she slid her tongue into my mouth.
I enjoyed tongue play, so I was cool with that. I crowded her, and pushed her against the wall, pressing my body to hers. I thought she was totally going for it.
My hands squeezed. Ah, I love the feel of a real woman in my hands, something to get a hold of.
The minute I squeezed, though, I got tossed.
Out of nowhere...her hands must’ve been trapped between us, against my chest. When she shoved, I hit the other wall with a loud thump and a big shock.
“What the hell?” I never knew what hit me.
“Yeah,” she said, pissy. “Stupid son of a bitch.”
She walked away, leaving me rubbing the back of my head, wondering what was up, while I watched her button her coat on exit. Frank passed her at the corner as he came back. She muttered, “Your dog needs a leash,” before she disappeared.
Frank looked from her retreating back to me, with reproach. “What the fuck did you do?”
I put the back of my hand to my lips, guessing I had lipstick all over me. Sure enough, red marred my skin. I wiped again, that time with my thumb. “Nothing...much.”
He said, “We don’t need any more enemies, Mark.”
“What did you find out?” It annoyed me that he felt like he could chastise me--I’m a wolf, for Gaia’s sake. Chasing pussy is what I do.
“Hood’s in a meeting. Someone was supposed to meet us. They said she’d be right up, just to stay put.”
I wiped the lipstick off my hand with my fingers, smearing it until it disappeared.
Frank said, “You should carry a handkerchief.”
That received a snort from me. I told him, “Only pussies carry hankies.”
He pushed his lips together, but held back his retort. Maybe I hurt his feelings.
That hallway felt like a cage. I paced. “What’s around the corner?”
“A reception area, some chairs. You wanna go sit down?”
“No,” I snapped, putting a fist to the wall, leaning my head to the surface. It was kind of funny. I said, “You know what, Frank?”
“What?”
“She smelled great.”
He laughed, and put a hand on my back. Like a dog, he husked, “Don’t you know it.”
We snarfed a little. You know, that husky dog laugh.
I tried to clear my head, but her scent was in there, permanently, I told him, “You know what else?”
“No. What?”
“She fuckin’ kisses like a whore.”
That must’ve pulled him up. He backed away from me and asked, “You got that far in two minutes?”
“Yeah.” I wasn’t bragging. Not really. I was fucked up from her. I know that sounds nuts, but in two minutes, she had me hooked. And knocking me into the wall? Shit. I wanted to see what else she had.
“Gaia.” He mopped his head again. I could hear him pull the handkerchief out of his pocket. “I could learn some things from you.”
“How to get knocked into a wall?” I rolled my body, and put my back to it, admitting, “She fucking threw me into the wall.”
That had him mopping faster, grinning. “Think she likes you?”
I glanced toward the exit door, “Who knows? I probably won’t see her again.” Except in my dreams.
“You want me to go find out what her name is?”
“Nah.” That would haunt me.
He put his cloth away and said, “Kisses like a whore, huh?”
Again, I moved away from the wall, pacing. “Yeah. Who’s supposed to meet us?”
“Oh. Somebody you know, I guess.”
That had my interest. “Who?”
“Giselle Racini.”
Bark’s ex-girlfriend. At Lobos? A quick vision of the jacket she’d given him...on that murder scene/news report came to my mind.
I didn’t have time to think about it; we heard the click of her heels a second later. She came around the corner, talking to none other than...Amber. Giselle asked her, “Why didn’t you bring them in?”
Into the waiting area?
Amber didn’t seem repentant, she said, “I welcomed them well enough. That’s not my job, you know.” Her gaze went straight to mine--smoldering desire zipped through the air between us.
Frank sucked in air at the sight of Giselle.
A gorgeous femme fatale, Italy style, a totally stacked bombshell, super model hooker in a compact package. Giselle wasn’t wearing anything remotely doctorly--but then, she wasn’t a doctor. From what Bark had said, she was nothing but the best prostitute on the planet. Knowing that made you think about fucking her, period. You know, curiosity to see what tricks she knew. Bark had told some wild tales. I knew Frank had heard them, too.
She had on a short, tight skirt, a low cut, ha
lf unbuttoned silk blouse, and stilettos. Nothing else, apparently, because I could see her breasts through the thin fabric of the shirt. But Giselle’s face is really what had arrested Frank’s attention, I think. Shrouded in long layers of satiny brown hair, her features just captivate. It’s probably her lips--and what we’d heard she could do with them. I dunno.
All I know is...Lobos must’ve had a sale on red lipstick. She was wearing the same shade that Amber was. Only on Giselle, it accentuated the fairness of her skin. On Amber, it looked like warm, slick, ruby paint. She must’ve touched it up again already, because it didn’t look at all smudged.
I said, “Giselle.” I’d seen her before. It had just been a while. I was surprised to see that she hadn’t changed much.
Warmly, she reached out a hand, taking mine before I realized it was out. She didn’t stop there, though, she embraced me with her other arm, scooting right up against me, whispering, “Good to see you.”
She sniffed my neck. It’s a wolfy thing we do.
Chuckling--she said, “I guess Amber did give you a nice welcome.”
Over her shoulder, my eyes were on Amber. So that was her name. I shrugged, “She did all right. I wouldn’t go and fire her just yet, anyway.”
Giselle withdrew from the circle of my arms as I added, “I think she could work out, given a little coaching.”
Amber, of course, ignored me from that point on.
They led us around the corner to the seating area, offered us drinks, and made us comfortable with small talk. There was a jungle feel to the room. Lots of real plants, nature sounds piped in. The furniture was green velvet and brown leather, very overstuffed and comfortable, expensive. The lighting was subdued, diverted to paintings by Bev Doolittle. Hidden creatures in wooded scenes.
I stared at them, but mostly, I spent a lot of the time retracing my words. The squeeze. The work out. It didn’t take me long to figure out--she didn’t like any suggestion that I might think she should lose weight or get in better shape. And really, she’s right on that. Who am I to say what she should do? Not that I was intimating that, but big, beautiful women get it from all sides, all the time. They can’t help it if they’re a little touchy on the subject.
When I should have been more attentive to the politics going on between Frank and Giselle, from arm’s length, all I could do was think about getting my point across to Amber. I liked her the way she was. In fact, she had me tight, straight up.
