“I’m not afraid of the Rougarou.” She grinned.
James crossed his arms. “No? Why not?”
“Because you’re the Rougarou.” She tried to tickle him back, but her fingers caught his arm instead.
He chuckled. “I’m not the werewolf boogeyman. Do I have red eyes and fangs?”
Her smile faded. “No.”
“You’ve seen me shift. Do I have a wolf’s head on a man’s body, or am I a full wolf?”
Her little brow furrowed. “You’re a full wolf.”
“I don’t sleep in the swamp either. So how could one of your packmates be the Rougarou?”
Her eyes widened, and she slid to her feet. “I’m ready to go to school, Mommy.”
Bekah held back a laugh as she waved goodbye and led Emma out the door.
Amber shook her head, fighting her smile. “You shouldn’t scare her with made-up stories about a werewolf boogeyman.”
“Why not? My dad scared me with it when I was a kid. It’s a rite of passage.” He picked up his mug and drank the rest of his coffee as Luke sauntered through the door.
At six-foot-four, Luke stood two inches taller than James—the biggest wolf in the pack, like an alpha should be. His light-brown hair was tied back in a band, and he carried a tablet computer beneath his arm.
James chuckled. “I can’t believe I beat the alpha to work.”
Luke fought a grin. “I was…distracted this morning.” And by the gleam in his eyes, his mate had something to do with the distraction.
Longing tightened James’s chest, adding another layer of unwanted emotion to his inner battle with his wolf over a woman he’d never met, who might not even exist.
Sliding onto a stool, Luke tapped the screen of his tablet. “I wanted you to go to the new site with me on Esplanade today. The owner wants to restore the house to its original state.”
“Those are my favorite.”
Luke nodded. “Mine too. But we’re running behind on the Ursulines project, so I need you there to pick up the slack.”
Damn. He’d much rather work on a restoration than the modernization they were doing to the building on Ursulines.
“Mmm…” Amber tapped a finger against her lips. “I feel like James needs to go to Esplanade.”
Luke arched an eyebrow. “Details?”
“I feel like both good and bad things will happen if he goes.” Her brow scrunched. “But there will be a disaster if he doesn’t.”
Luke paused, cutting his gaze between his sister and James. Then, he typed on his tablet screen and nodded. “I sent you the details. Read through it before you get there, and have her walk you through the house to confirm everything she wants done.”
“Got it, boss.” A drip of adrenaline rolled through James’s veins…just enough to clear his head and straighten his spine. He’d get to work on his favorite kind of project, and there was the possibility of impending doom. His day kept getting better.
The alpha looked at his sister. “Does this feeling have anything to do with the change you’ve been predicting for him…female-wise?”
“Possibly.” She refilled James’s cup. “But I’m feeling good and bad things, so be careful.”
Luke squared his gaze on James. “No sleeping with the client unless you plan to take her as your mate.”
James choked on his coffee, spewing it across the bar. “I’ve never slept with a client.”
With his hand on the bar, Luke paused, narrowing his eyes before rising to his full height. “Something tells me this time might be different.”
Chapter Five
James parked on the curb in front of a salmon-colored two-story mansion on Esplanade. Four steps led up to a wrap-around front porch, and a dark-wood door framed an oval cut-glass window. White columns held up the second-story gallery, where two doors on either end of the house were painted white.
The colors were wrong. The doors were wrong. Shaking his head, he pulled up the file Luke had sent him. The corners of his lips tugged into a smile as he scanned the document. Everything the owner had requested accurately portrayed what it would have looked like in its nineteenth-century prime.
He chuckled. This particular house had always been his favorite. Since he was a teen, his dream had been to own the place, but he didn’t even know the property had been for sale. Not that he could have afforded the two-million-dollar price tag attached to it. Being in charge of the renovation would have to suffice.
Scrolling to the top of the document, he glimpsed the owner’s name. Odette Allemand. Hmm. He’d known an Odette once, a long time ago. He hadn’t seen her since seventh grade when she’d moved away, and she’d hardly spoken to him…to anyone…in junior high. A strange flush of excitement rolled through his veins. How many Odette Allemands could there be?
He slid out of the truck and tucked his phone into his pocket. Slamming the door, he paced up the walk and climbed the front steps, wiping his palms on his jeans.
He knocked and held his breath. The sound of heels clicking on the wooden floor emanated from inside, and a tall silhouette appeared in the glass oval.
She opened the door halfway and gave him a once-over with her gaze before speaking. “Can I help you?”
His throat thickened, making it hard to force out an answer. This was the same Odette from his childhood, but she’d grown into a stunningly beautiful woman. She wore a black skirt that stopped two inches above her knees and a tailored black blazer with a purple silk shirt beneath. Her black hair hung in ringlets down to her shoulders, framing her delicate face, and the same sprinkling of freckles across her nose that had made his heart race in junior high accented her light umber skin. Her dark eyes narrowed as she waited for him to answer.
He cleared his throat. “Odette?”
“Yes?”
“I’m James. We had a few classes together in school. I…” Damn it. His heart raced, and his palms were still sweating. He never got nervous around women, but that was exactly what this unwelcome emotion felt like.
She gripped the door handle, probably ready to slam it in his face if he didn’t get his act together. “What can I do for you, James?” Her brows lifted, and she pressed her lips together, her expression indifferent.
She didn’t remember him. Or if she did, she didn’t care. The sting of rejection brought him out of the past, reminding him why he had come here. “I’m with Mason Remodeling. Luke had to attend to an emergency at another site, so he sent me to finalize the details with you this morning.”
She glanced at his truck on the curb, squinting as if trying to read the magnetic sign on the side. Seemingly satisfied, she opened the door fully. “Welcome. Come on in.”
He stepped through the threshold, and she closed the door. The size of the floorboards indicated the wood was original to the house. The previous owner had kept it in excellent condition, though it shined more than it would have in the nineteenth century. A modern, chrome light fixture hung in the foyer, but the switch was off, allowing the morning sunlight cascading in through the windows to light the room.
“I was hoping you could show me the place, so we can go over any last-minute changes you might want to make.”
She blinked at him, her gaze sweeping down the length of his body before meeting his eyes. “I don’t want to make any changes. I want this house as close to the original as possible. All of the paint and wallpaper selections are based on that.” She glanced over his shoulder with a curious expression.
He turned to see what she was looking at, but an empty room was all that lay behind him. He raked a hand through his hair. “Do you mind if I have a look around myself, then? So I can make sure everything Luke wrote up is clear?”
She glanced behind him again and gave her head a tiny shake. Confliction sparked in her eyes before she let out a sigh and relaxed her posture. “I suppose I have a few minutes to show you around before I leave for work. Are you starting today?” She turned and headed for the kitchen. “This way.”
He followed, allowing his gaze to focus on her swaying hips for a moment. An image of the woman from his dreams flashed behind his eyes, like it had been doing every time he’d seen someone who piqued his interest for the past three weeks. But this time, the picture of whom his wolf wanted didn’t kill his libido instantly.
Instead, a confusing mix of attraction and longing drew his wolf to the surface, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say it felt an awful lot like his wolf was considering Odette a possible mate. His chest warmed at the idea, his mouth curving into an involuntary grin.
Whoa. Put the brakes on, man. He wouldn’t consider anyone a potential mate until his wolf told him it was ordained by fate, and there was far too much confusion swirling through his mind. Fate didn’t get confused, and werewolves only claimed one fate-bound mate.
He hadn’t been laid in over a month. That’s all it was. Feeling sexual attraction to anyone but his dream woman had taken him off-guard. And sexual attraction was all this was. It was all it would ever be.
James wiped the thoughts from his mind and focused on the architecture. The modern kitchen had an island and stainless-steel appliances. Granite countertops reflected the recessed lighting, and the cabinets had chrome handles and glass fronts.
“I realize some of the amenities of this home didn’t exist in the early eighteen hundreds.” She reached for the sink and opened the tap. “But I would like to hang on to the modern luxuries of indoor plumbing and air conditioning.”
“I can’t blame you.” He looked at the notes Luke had written. They’d be changing out the cabinetry and lighting, but the appliances and all the plumbing would remain intact.
She led him through a few more empty rooms downstairs, and his breath caught when he spotted the altar she’d set up on the fireplace. A skull with a top hat and lots of black and purple items occupied most of the space. He stepped toward it to have a closer look, but she cleared her throat and motioned toward another room.
James had learned a little about Voodoo over the years, but the religion, and the people who practiced it, remained shrouded in mystery. She obviously wasn’t open to questions, so he followed her into the next room. A queen-sized bed sat against the far wall, and half a dozen moving boxes were scattered about the space.
“All this room needs is a coat of paint, so I’m using it as my bedroom until the renovations are done and I can finish moving in.” She held his gaze with another curious expression before strutting toward the door.
The back of her hand brushed his on her way out, and her magical signature tingled across his skin, sending a jolt straight to his heart. Get it together, man. Just because his wolf didn’t revolt at the thought of being with this woman, it didn’t mean anything. That strange stirring in his soul was not his beast attempting to claim a second person. It wasn’t possible. Anyway, she was a client, so she was off limits.
Unless he planned to make her his mate.
He shook himself, stopping the ridiculous thought before it could wriggle any further into his mind. If he slept with her, the feelings of attraction would dissolve, and he’d turn tail and run like he always did. Until he figured out how to break whatever cycle he was stuck in, and either find the dream woman or convince his wolf she didn’t exist, he was screwed.
Odette showed him the upstairs, and he glanced at Luke’s notes. Everything was crystal-clear as he’d expected from the alpha. They returned to the room with the altar, and she turned to him. “Any questions? I need to get to work.”
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
Her expression softened, but as she parted her lips to answer, something slammed into his chest, knocking him off his feet. The air whooshed from his lungs as his back smacked into the hardwood floor, and he skidded across the room. The side of his head slammed into the brick fireplace, and the room spun before everything went dark.
“James!” Odette raced toward him. “Nicolas, stop it! Get out of him.” Reaching with her mind, she grabbed hold of the ghost invading James’s body and ripped him out, throwing the entity across the room. She dropped to her knees next to James. Placing her hand on his chest, she relaxed at the gentle up and down motion of his breaths. The bloody gash on his forehead was already healing, and she rushed to the kitchen, grabbed a clean dish towel, and returned to his side.
She gently wiped the blood from his face and marveled at the way he healed. Anyone else would need stitches and weeks of recovery to mend a wound that deep, but his body took care of itself, the fibers of his skin slowly reconnecting in front of her eyes. Blood oozed from the partially-healed cut, and she dabbed the cloth on his brow to keep it from running into his eye.
Dark lashes fringed his closed lids, and the stubble peppering his jaw gave him a rugged, handsome appearance. His wavy, dark-brown hair was sheared short on the sides and long enough on top to have that messy, care-free look. He was cute in junior high; time had made him downright sexy. His head rolled to the side, and she pulled him into her lap, cradling his shoulders with her hands.
Lifting her gaze to Nicolas, she glared at the ghost. “You will never do that again, do you understand? You will leave him alone.”
The spectral figure stiffened as her command took hold of his consciousness.
She cringed as her magic flared in her veins. A magic no living being should hold. Taking a deep breath, she got herself under control. “Why did you do that to him?”
Nicolas began to fade.
“Answer me.” Another flush of magic raced through her veins, and she tried to ignore how good it felt.
His figure grew opaque, and his eyes widened. “My home.”
The last thing she needed was a territorial ghost attacking the men who came over. Her house would be full of them for the next few weeks until the renovation was done. “This is my home now. You can’t attack people like that because you’re jealous. You are not allowed to do that to anyone again.”
Nicolas’s brow furrowed, and he disappeared.
James’s eyes fluttered open, and she wiped another trail of blood from his forehead. Glancing at her briefly, he lowered his gaze. “Thanks.” He reached for the towel, his fingers brushing hers, and his magic seeped into her skin.
Her stomach fluttered at his touch. Uh-oh. That was not a good sign. “Are you okay?” She glanced at his hand and bit back her next question. If she recalled correctly, he’d had all ten fingers as a kid, but how he’d lost one was none of her business.
“I’m good.” He tried to push to a sitting position, but he clutched his head and lowered back into her lap. “Give me a minute.” He gazed up at her. “What happened?”
“That was my resident ghost. He seemed harmless before, so I’m not sure why he did that to you.”
He sat up, gripping the towel in his lap, avoiding eye contact as if he were embarrassed. The bleeding on his head stopped, a thin crust of scab sealing the wound. “What did he do?”
“He jumped you.” She caught his gaze, and the intense blue of his eyes made her breath hitch. Forcing herself to look away, she shifted to her knees and smoothed her skirt down her thighs. “He was trying to get inside you, but you don’t have to worry about him anymore. He won’t bother you again.”
He gingerly pressed his fingers to his head and winced. Something between a grunt and a chuckle resonated in his chest, and he rose to his feet and offered her a hand up. “How do you know he won’t?”
She took his hand and rose to her feet, slipping from his warm grasp as soon as she was steady. “Because I told him not to.”
“The dead do what you say?”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “I’ve always been able to communicate with the dead. To see and hear them.” That wasn’t a lie. Hopefully, he wouldn’t notice she’d avoided the question.
“I see.” He looked at the blood on the towel, and a strange expression crossed over his face. Was it disappointment? Disgust? She didn’t know him well enough to tell yet.
Yet. As i
f she planned to get to know him at all. “Here, let me take that for you.” She reached for the towel, but he jerked it away.
“That’s okay.” He shoved it into his pocket. “I’ll take it home and wash it and bring it back to you tomorrow.”
She started to argue, but he was a werewolf. They had rules about their blood. “I wasn’t planning to use it for a spell.”
“I didn’t think you were, but…” He shrugged.
“I understand.” She lowered her gaze, trying to avoid his mesmerizing eyes. She could get lost in them if she looked too long. “I do remember you.” She’d recognized him the moment he’d introduced himself, and an undeniable spark had flared in her soul. A fire she’d been trying to extinguish since he stepped foot inside her home. She refused to fall for a man in this life…but James was one hell of a man. Tall, muscular, hotter than hellfire. Sweet Spirits, it was happening.
A tiny voice in the back of her mind whispered, he’s the one, but she silenced it.
“What do you remember?” He smiled, and her heart melted. Warning bells went off in her mind. She needed to end this conversation now. Tell him she was late for work and walk out the door before the heat building in her core turned into an inferno.
But her feet felt glued to the floor. “After my mom died, when I came back to school, you were the only kid in class who didn’t call me…zombie girl.” She held his gaze, refusing to allow the memory to consume her. The ravings of a bloodied little girl in the middle of the street had turned into rumors that spread like a prairie fire with a tailwind. Her dad eventually stomped out the blaze, but not before the kids at school overheard their parents’ gossip.
“You looked plenty alive to me. You still do.” He stepped toward her, and she instinctively took a step back. “Although, when you disappeared in seventh grade, I did wonder… Where have you been all these years?”
“We moved to Alabama. My dad bought a company there, and he needed to be closer to it.” She did not need to get into the real reason they’d moved. That was a memory she’d rather forget.
A Deal with Death Page 5
