Animal Behavior (5 page)

He glanced down at the unconscious human-consort-elect. Fainting
had been an automatic response to pain and adrenaline, not a sign of weakness.
She was only out for a few seconds, but that was plenty of time for Alex to
take inventory. Long, dark hair, pale skin, full mouth—
pretty,
he
thought. The photos he’d seen of her hadn’t done her justice. Even under her
puffy winter coat he could easily make out her lush curves. The thought of what
those big breasts and full hips would feel like under his hands made his cock
jerk to life. But it was the scent of her that distracted him the most.

In the years since his change Alex had been drawn to dozens
of women because he could smell their arousal, but he’d never experienced
anything like this. Before he was within ten yards of her, the scent had
triggered something deep in his core. And the bravery she’d shown during the
attack was so impressive—so unlike the behavior of the vacuous,
high-maintenance women he’d been spending his time with—it only multiplied her
allure.

He wanted her desperately and the sudden depth of his
possessiveness was confusing. And yet, there was a kind of certainness in his
instant connection to her that somehow calmed him. The agitation he’d felt in
L.A. seemed to flow out of him and was replaced with single-minded focus.

Mine.

Leaning so close that his lips nearly brushed her throat, he
breathed her in. A low moan rumbled from his chest and when she began to stir,
he forced himself to pull away.

Easy. Don’t frighten her.

She stared up at him for a long moment as if trying to read
his thoughts. He was relieved that she couldn’t. As soon as he was convinced
that she wouldn’t pass out again, he fetched the golf cart and helped her up.
He scooped up the injured dog and laid it on the padded back seat, then drove
them back to his property.

Alex was glad that he’d kept the tiny clinic open, even
though he had little energy to devote to his practice these days.
The
Dog
Talker
ate up most of his time. Still, he kept the place stocked with basic
supplies to vaccinate and treat the pack’s pets.

Gwen had insisted on hobbling up the clinic steps herself
rather than allowing him to carry her. She’d also insisted on being in the procedure
room while he’d worked on her dog. He’d set her on a rolling stool and told her
to stay out of the way and not touch anything. Her ankle could wait until the
golden had been patched up.

At least she’d accepted the painkiller he’d offered. Laying
the dog on the stainless-steel table, he glanced over at Gwen and saw that she
was fighting to keep her eyes open.

“How’s the ankle?” he asked

Gwen grinned, “Feels great.”

Her speech was slow and she sounded a bit spacey. Alex had
never dosed a human before, but he felt confident that the he’d given her a
safe amount.

“How’s Jezebel?” she slurred.

“You named your dog Jezebel?”

“You named yours Bob,” she said, drawing out the last word
to two syllables.

Alex chuckled. “Fair enough. And Jezebel is going to be
fine. I had to sedate her so I can stitch her up, and we’ll have to keep her
overnight, but she’ll be good as new before you know it.”

Gwen stuck out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout. “Overnight?”

“It’ll be fine. I called my tech. She’ll come in tonight and
keep an eye on her.”

Alex knotted the last stitch, bandaged the wound and carried
the golden retriever to a recovery kennel. When he returned, Gwen was scooting
around the OR on the rolling stool. “Having fun?” he asked.

“I’m
dying
of thirst,” she said and licked her lips.

“It’s the medication,” Alex explained, trying to pry his
gaze away from her mouth.

He brought her a glass of water, wheeled her into the exam
room and asked her to get up on the table.

“Oh, are we going to play doctor, Doctor?” she asked, then
giggled at her own joke.

He felt the ache in his groin and struggled to keep his
cool. “I’m just going to X-ray your ankle, Gwen.”

Fighting to stay focused, Alex dragged the portable
digital-imaging machine across the room and helped her onto the examination
table. The instant he touched her, he felt a surge of energy pass between them.
He wasn’t sure if she’d felt it too, but when he looked up at her, she smiled and
ran her tongue over those luscious lips again. He wanted to crush his mouth
against hers. His own lips tingled at the thought and he realized he hadn’t
wanted to kiss a woman since his change.

The sound of his heartbeat thundered in his ears and below
it he could hear hers race as well. His gaze rested on the side of her neck and
he was mesmerized by the rhythmic pulse of her carotid artery. Gwen’s milky-white
skin seemed to redden as everything in Alex’s vision took on an odd rosy hue.
He hadn’t experienced this phenomenon since the night of his first change.

What the fuck?

The pounding of their hearts was almost deafening and saliva
rushed into Alex’s mouth as the scent of her grew stronger. Lust consumed him and
in an instant he could imagine exactly what he would to do to her as if it were
actually happening. He would push her back on the cold, hard stainless steel
and climb atop her warm, soft body. He would kiss her hard and explore her
mouth with his tongue. Alex suppressed a moan when he thought of how she would
taste.

Her buttons would clatter across the exam room tiles when he
ripped open her shirt and tore off her bra. Those big breasts would feel hot
and heavy in his hands and he would pinch the nipples into hard beads before
sucking each one into his mouth. She would arch into him when he yanked down
her jeans and fingered her sweet-smelling pussy. Then he would taste her.

He would kiss a path down her body, over her soft belly, and
tease her plump thighs before plunging his tongue into her wet canal. Lapping
at the delicious juice and sucking on her hard little clit while pumping his
fingers into her would make her moan and buck. And when she had come, he would
pull out his stiff cock, lubricate it with her cream and push inside her. He
would knead her breasts as he thrust and when he was buried to the hilt, he
would swivel his hips to massage her bud and wouldn’t stop until she came
again. Alex could almost feel the sensation of her tight pussy clamping down
around him and could imagine how her orgasm would feed his. He would…

“Everything all right, Doc?”

The sound of Gwen’s voice broke through his fantasy and Alex
shook his head to clear away the image of her naked body. “Yeah. Sorry about
that. I was just trying to figure out the best way to do the X-rays,” he lied. “Most
of my patients have four legs, not two.”

Glancing up at Gwen, he noticed her forehead wrinkle. He
wasn’t sure if she’d bought it, but thought the effects of the pain killer had
worked in his favor. Moving to the end of the table, Alex gingerly positioned
her leg. Up close, the scent of her was almost more than he could take. He
worked quickly, snapping a series of views, and turned the monitor so Gwen
could see it. “Well, it’s not broken. I’ll bandage you up and once that pill
wears off you should be able to manage the pain with over-the-counter medicine.
Any questions?”

“Yeah, what’s your name?”

“Alex. Anything else?”

“Have you got anything to eat? I’m starving.”

Yes, she was definitely John’s granddaughter.

Present

Alex wheeled the portable X-ray machine into corner of the
exam room then helped Gwen down from the stainless steel table. He grinned when
her stomach growled. “You really are hungry!”

Even if there wasn’t much of a family resemblance, Gwen and
her late grandfather seemed to share a healthy appetite. Alex took a mental
inventory of the kitchen back at his house. He always stocked plenty of fresh
meat and there was beer in the fridge.

He’d take her back to his place, feed her then bring her
home. As he tidied up the exam room, Alex realized that he hadn’t been to back
to Chaney Acres since John’s death. He missed the old man. From the day they’d
met—three years ago—until the end, the late human consort had shown Alex
nothing but kindness.

* * * * *

Three Years Ago

The morning of Alex’s first full moon, Sergei brought him to
meet John Chaney. The old man lived in a rambling log home that looked as if it
had been added on to a half dozen times over the past century. It was warm and
welcoming with a huge stone fireplace in the central room, rich braided rugs
and overflowing bookshelves flanking the mantle. The old man himself was small
and soft spoken.

“I’ve brought you a pup,” Sergei said by way of introduction.

John shook the young veterinarian’s hand and Alex noted that
the fingers were knotted and bent with arthritis. “Pleased to meet you, Alex.
Sergei has told me about you. You weren’t bitten?”

Alex could only shake his head.

“Not many choose this life, but I suspect the process will
be about the same. You need to eat and hydrate. This week will be the most
difficult. It will get easier.”

“Week? I thought the whole werewolf thing only happened one
night a month.”

“Only in the movies,” John said. “In real life you’ll feel
the effects on the night of the full moon and a two or three days on either
side of it. We call it ‘moon week’.”

“‘In real life’,” Alex repeated and shook his head.

John winked and led Alex to the kitchen. The three sat around
the worn table and enjoyed huge portions of rare steak and runny eggs. Alex was
amazed at how much Chaney ate and wondered where the little man put it all.
Sergei kept Alex’s water glass full and urged him to drink past the point of
slaking his thirst. When Alex tried to wave him off, the Russian persisted. “You
will need your strength, friend.”

Alex began to worry at the men’s warnings and the somber
tone in their voices. He wanted to ask if there was any way they could stop
what was about to happen.

Sergei read the thought and shook his head. “There is no
stopping it, friend. You must endure the trial. The time will come when you
gain some control—never complete mastery—but some control.”

As the sun began to set, Sergei rose to leave. “I’ll collect
him in the morning.”

Alex felt his panic rise. “You’re leaving?”

“You are in good hands, Alex. I must face the moon by myself—as
you will have to one day.”

John bade his friend goodbye then crossed to the side table
near the front door, pulled a necklace from the drawer and slipped it over his
head. At the end of the heavy chain was a large silver amulet in the shape of
an inverted triangle with a spiral filling its center. “Come with me, son,”
John said.

The old man pocketed a flashlight, grabbed a shotgun from
the pegs above the fireplace, then hobbled out the front door and off the
porch. Alex followed with Bob trailing behind. “Tell your dog to stay here.”

It’s okay Bob. Wait here. I’ll be back in the morning,
Alex telepathed to the dog. The Lab groaned and flopped down on the porch. John
slung the rifle over his shoulder and walked around the side of the cabin.

The men followed a narrow path into the woods and John
stopped at a tall, stacked stone wall. He pulled aside a bush and bowed to pass
through a low hidden archway. Alex paused and peered into the opening. John
flicked on his flashlight and swept the beam over the walls of the stone tunnel
beyond.

Once inside, it was tall enough for the two to stand upright.
Alex realized that the passageway was built into the hillside and his fear was
replaced by a prickling sense of curiosity and anticipation.

At the end of the tunnel was a wall of iron bars. John
produced a box of matches and lit the two oil lanterns flanking the cell. He pulled
a key ring from his pocket, opened the cell door and nodded for Alex to step
inside.

It was a Spartan space with a bare mattress on a simple metal
cot along one wall. The ceiling was twenty feet high and pierced with a barred
skylight. Alex could see the silver-gray dusk above him. The tumblers rattled
in the lock as John turned the key behind him. Alex wheeled around and watched
the old man drag a large upholstered rocking chair from the shadows and sit
down with a groan.

Alex almost laughed at how out of place the overstuffed,
chintz-covered chair looked. On the floor next to the chair was a woven basket
full of books. John fished his reading glasses from the breast pocket of his
flannel shirt, set them on his nose and selected a paperback. He lit his pipe
and began to rock.

Alex wrapped his hands around the iron bars. “Now what?”

John glanced up from his book. “Now we wait.”

“What’s going to happen to me?”

“You’re safe here, son. I can’t explain what’s about to
happen. You wouldn’t believe me even if I could. But know this, nothing you can
say or do will shock me. I’ve been doing this for longer than you’ve been on
this earth, my boy. I don’t take any of it personally. Don’t you worry. It’ll
be over soon.”

John’s voice was calm and even, but it did nothing to soothe
Alex’s nerves. He sat back on the cot and tried to concentrate on his
breathing.

This is crazy. Who is this old guy? Am I being punked?
They’re just trying to scare me.

Alex looked up at the hole in the ceiling and saw the first
stars pop into the jet-black sky.
This is ridiculous. I need to get out of—
Alex’s skin prickled. He felt itchy all over as if he were having an allergic
reaction. And he was angry. No, he was enraged.
These people are strangers!
They don’t know me!

“I have to get out of here!” he said and was shocked by the
tone of his own voice. It had grown unnaturally deep and gravelly.

He stood and walked back to the cell door. John wore a
passive expression on his face and rocked slowly back and forth, his nose
buried in his book. “John! Can you hear me? Let me out of here! I have to get
out of here! Open this door now!”

John continued to rock and read, his nonchalance fueling
Alex’s fury. “Listen, you twisted old fuck, I want you to open this door right
now! Who the fuck do you think you are? This is against the law! This is
abduction. That’s a felony, you son of a bitch! When I get out of here I’m
going to have you arrested. You’re going to wind up in the state pen and your
wrinkled old ass is going to get a daily pounding from—”

A jolt of pain shot through Alex’s spine and he fell to his
knees. He felt as if he’d been whacked with a steel rod. He threw back his head
to scream and his gaze fell on the night sky. The far rim of the skylight was
ablaze with the leading edge of the moon. The scream that issued from his lips
morphed into a snarl and then a long, frantic howl.

Canis lupis
, his scientific mind noted.
What the
fuck?
It was the last logical thought he would have.

Alex jumped to his feet and felt the sweat pour from him. He
was burning up. He ripped off his shoes and clothes and started pacing the
cell.

John glanced up from his book. “Don’t fight it, son. You’ll
only make it worse for yourself”

Alex threw himself against the bars “I will kill you! I will
rip out your fucking throat and eat your heart, old man.”

John just smiled. “Not tonight you won’t.”

“I will tear out your—”

A sensation like being punched in the gut caused Alex to
release the bars and stumble backward. He doubled over, bracing himself on his
knees and struggled to catch his breath. He glanced down and watched in
terrified fascination as the backs of his hands lengthened. His fingers grew
too, and bulged at the joints. Long claws erupted through his fingertips,
ripping off his nails. The pain moved to his feet as they contorted in a
similar metamorphosis. His instep stretched to five times its original length
until his heels were at the same height his knees had been just moments before.

Alex clawed at his skin. The terrible itching intensified as
a million coarse hairs poked from his pores. He screeched at the merciless
pinpricks.

“
FUCK!”
he cried out, but the sound coming from his
chest erupted as a growl.

His head began to throb. He felt his ears slide up the side
of his skull and they stung as if they were being pulled into sharp points by
some unseen force. His jaws ached and popped as his face was drawn out into a
long snout. His saliva flowed freely, nearly choking him, and he ran his
elongated tongue over a new set of long, sharp teeth. He beat his chest to try
to pound away the pain. His spine and limbs crackled as they stretched. Pain
seared through every joint. The ache was excruciating and Alex flung himself
against the stone wall to escape it.

And then—as suddenly as it had begun—it was over. The pain
stopped as if a switch had been flipped. In its place was a new reality in
which every sight, sound and smell was amplified.

Running his elongated fingers down his rock-hard chest, Alex
studied his new body. His limbs had stretched and, judging by his new
sightline, he had gained nearly a foot in height. His entire body was covered
in coppery fur that glinted in the lantern light.

Alex’s breath came out in pants and he could smell the old
man. Even over his own snarls Alex could hear the heartbeat pulsing in John’s leathery
old neck. He stalked up to the door and slid his foaming snout between the
bars. His vision was tinted as if filtered through red cellophane. His captor’s
life force pulsed around him with a bright aura. Alex longed to consume John’s
energy.
I will kill you
. He wrapped his claws around the bars and shook
the metal door.
I will kill you
.

A plan flashed into his mind so clearly it was as if it had
been forged by ages of instinct. He would hold perfectly still and if the old
man let down his guard—if he got within reach—Alex would grab him. He’d pull
that brittle body against the bars then slash the throat and bathe in the hot,
sticky jets of blood.

Saliva rushed into Alex’s mouth when he imagined sinking his
fangs into the warm, tender meat. He would yank chunks of John Chaney through
the bars and feed on him until he was satisfied.

Then the red-hot rage that consumed him was replaced by a
much stronger emotion. An overwhelming pull forced him to tear his gaze from
his prey. The cell was awash in a pale yellow glow and he backed up until he
was at the center of the stone room, then looked overhead and saw the
three-quarter moon framed by the skylight.

The energy pulsing from the huge orb seemed to fill every
atom of Alex’s transformed body. He spread out his arms and let the surge of
power wash over him as his howl burst from his chest and filled the night.

* * * * *

Present

The effects of the painkiller were beginning to fade, and as
Gwen’s head cleared she was finally able to place him—Alex McKenzie, the Dog
Talker. Gwen didn’t watch much TV—and she certainly wasn’t the type to get star
struck—but as she studied his handsome profile, the attraction was undeniable.

Gwen shrugged off Alex’s offer to help her out of the clinic
and into his waiting golf cart. While she was settling in, a battered hatchback
pulled into the lot. He introduced Gwen to his vet tech, Kelly. The pretty
brunette promised to take good care of Jezebel and when she winked at Alex,
Gwen was surprised to feel a twinge of jealousy.

Bob led the way as Alex maneuvered the cart on the winding
path to his house. The enormous two-story log home was nestled among soaring
pines and paper-white birch trees. Two identical wings fanned out from a
massive covered entry. The portico was lit by a huge iron chandelier that
looked as if it weighed more than Gwen’s Jeep.

So this is the kind of place TV money can buy,
she
thought. She glanced at the wide stone staircase leading up to the porch and
counted ten steps. Her ankle throbbed and she wondered how she’d make it into
the house.

Alex trotted to her side of the cart. “Now will you let me
help you?”

Gwen rolled her eyes and reached out to steady herself on
his extended hand. Instead, he slid one arm behind her shoulders and the other
under her knees. Before she could protest, he lifted her against his chest and
loped up the steps. He paused at the carved double doors and nodded at the
handle. Gwen reached out, pivoted the thick, oil-rubbed bronze handle and
pushed.

From her perch in his arms, she took in the great room. It
had soaring exposed log beam ceilings and was beautifully decorated in an
upscale lodge style. A two-story stone fireplace took up one entire wall and a
huge rustic dining table separated the living area from a state-of-the-art open
kitchen. In the space opposite the fireplace were an ornate pool table with
fringe at the pockets, an old-fashioned jukebox with bubbling lights, and a
dark oak bar with sumptuously padded barstools. Alex deposited her in one of
the buttery-soft tan leather couches that flanked the fireplace.

“You going to be okay here?” he asked.

“I am. But I’ve got to… I mean…”

Alex’s brow furrowed for a minute before it seemed that the
obvious dawned on him. “Oh. Yeah. Right. Hang on.”

He disappeared down the hall and returned pushing a huge
burgundy-leather executive desk chair in front of him. He positioned it at the
end of the couch and lifted Gwen from one seat to the other. She held out her
injured leg as he wheeled the chair past the billiard table, snatching a cue
from its wall rack when they rolled by. Parking the office chair outside one of
half a dozen raised paneled doors, he reached in to flick on the light. Gwen
peered into the large, beautifully appointed half bath.