Call of the Wolf (22 page)

* * * *

Abby hadn't really thought she would have much of an appetite, but the little shopping spree at the craft booths had been surprisingly therapeutic. She couldn't say that she felt like her old self—she thought she'd pretty much forgotten what her old self felt like—and, in any case, she still felt ‘fragile,’ but she was more relaxed. She even felt a tentative sense of goodness that she finally identified as happiness and a touch of anticipation for the dance.

Or maybe it was Seth's reassurance that accounted for it?

Or the good spirits of everyone around them?

Whatever the case, her appetite smote her as soon as she came within smelling distance of the barbeque. Seth and Cameron went off to grab plates. Adrian and Jerico guided her toward the vender selling sweet tea and, once they'd grabbed cups for the five of them, they looked around until they'd found a long trestle table that was empty and settled at one end. The table began to fill up almost as soon as they'd settled. Abby glanced worried at the rapidly filling table and then at Adrian and Jerico, who'd settled on either side of her. Almost as if they'd read her mind, they spread out, pointed taking up two spaces each on either side of her and ignoring the glares of the other men who came up to the table.

To Abby's relief, Seth and Cameron returned before anyone actually called them on their tactics. Squeezing in between her and Adrian and Jerico, they each set two heaping plates on the table. Abby was just wondering if she was supposed to get up and get her own when Seth produced an empty plate from beneath his. Setting it in front of her, he and Cameron slid their own plates over for her to help herself. Smiling inwardly, wondering if they'd worked their plan out before hand, Abby grabbed a cob of corn and a couple of ribs from each plate.

Cameron and Seth both sent her a vaguely disapproving look. “I can always make another trip to the pit,” Seth commented.

"You may have to if you didn't think to get napkins,” Abby retorted with wry amusement, examining her fingers. Shrugging inwardly, she used her mouth to clean them. She was sucking on her third when Cameron plunked a wad of napkins down in front of her. Startled, she glanced up and discovered she had the undivided attention of every man at the table that had a view of her.

The heat that welled inside of her wasn't entirely embarrassment. In fact, she wasn't convinced any of it was. The looks she'd garnered were blatantly sensual. There was heat smoldering in both Seth's and Cameron's eyes, as well, but also annoyance.

Giving them an apologetic look, she focused on her food the best she could. It wasn't easy when she discovered she still held the attention of every man at the table.

"You're looking well considering your ... misadventure this morning,” the man across from her commented after a while, claiming her attention.

Abby looked at him with a touch surprise. He looked familiar—most of the men at the table did—and she was certain they'd been introduced, that he was one of the ‘friends’ that had joined them the first time Seth and the others had escorted her through the craft exhibits. She'd actually been hoping he wouldn't say anything since she couldn't recall his name. Thankfully, it popped into her mind when she looked up at him.

"Thank you, Frank,” she murmured, smiling faintly. “I think."

He grinned a little uncomfortably. “That didn't come out quite the way I meant it,” he said wryly. “I guess I should've just asked how you were feeling."

"Better than I should, I expect. A little sore."

He flicked a gaze over the dress she was wearing and sent the men on either side of her a wry look. “Well enough to consider dancing?"

She blushed faintly, feeling a flicker of discomfort since she had no idea what the Wolfen etiquette was in such a situation.

And she was pretty sure he was one.

"I don't know if I feel up to much dancing, but I'm going to the dance."

He favored her with a slow grin. “Save a dance for me. If you don't feel up to dancing, we'll sit it out."

"The four of us have already claimed all the slow dances,” Seth growled, baring his teeth at the man in a semblance of a smile that looked a lot more challenging to Abby than agreeable.

Anger glittered in Frank's eyes for a moment, and then amusement and triumph. “In that case,” he drawled, returning his attention to Abby, “we'll definitely sit one out. I'm not much of a hand at the reels."

Seth and Cameron, she realized, feeling a touch of dismay, had tensed. She didn't know whether to be relieved or more uncomfortable when the other men at the table joined the discussion, requesting a dance and effectively dividing their attention. She decided, though, that it must be alright to accept, at least as far as their customs went. Otherwise she was sure they wouldn't have asked.

She still didn't want to be pinned down and she didn't want to make Cameron or Seth any angrier than they already seemed to be—particularly not if it was jealousy that inspired it. She was a bit more inclined to think it was merely territorialism, which made her a little more inclined to accept the offers. She finally compromised by telling them that as much as she appreciated the offers and would be happy to take them up if she felt up to it, she wasn't certain that she
was
up to that much dancing.

If she hadn't been stiff and sore from her fight earlier in the day she wasn't sure she would've been up to dancing with a dozen men, particularly not anything extremely vigorous.

She discovered when they reached the location of the barn dance that she was probably going to find out just how physically fit she was. The barn was enormous. It had been cleared of everything except hay bales, which had been strategically arranged all around the perimeter as seats. A layer had also been strewn on the floor, part of which was concrete and part packed dirt, although she wasn't certain that had been completely intentional or if it was merely a matter of a few broken bales that had been trampled and strewn by the guests. The musicians were already warmed up and the dancing in full swing when they arrived.

Unconsciously, Abby gripped Seth's arm and sidled a little closer to him when she saw how many people were there. He pulled his arm from her grip and settled it around her shoulders. She wasn't certain whether the gesture was protective or possessive, but it comforted her. “Are they all ... uh ... is everyone...?"

He lifted his head and scanned the barn through narrowed eyes. “Most of them.” He smiled faintly when he looked down at her again. “A lot of townspeople, too."

Abby relaxed fractionally. She supposed it was ridiculous when she couldn't tell the difference, but it still made her feel better to know she wasn't a minority of one.

The lights dimmed almost the moment they entered and the musicians began to play a slow love song. Seth took her purse, handed it off to Cameron, who gave him an annoyed look, and guided her onto the floor.

A warm, fluttery feeling arose inside Abby the moment Seth pulled her close and began to guide her around the floor in the slow dance. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised to discover he was a very good dancer, but she was—and gratified. Sighing blissfully, she closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his chest, relishing the feeling of simply being held close. “I'm so glad you weren't hurt,” she murmured after a few moments.

His arms tightened around her. Amusement treaded his voice when he responded. “I never said it didn't hurt—it hurt like a son-of-a-bitch."

Abby chuckled, pulling far enough away to look up at him. “I didn't mean it like that. I'm just glad you and Adrian were wearing vests."

The faint smile on his lips flattened. He seemed to debate with himself for a moment. “We weren't wearing vests, Abby,” he said almost gently. “We're Wolfen."

She stared at him uncomprehendingly for several moments and finally settled her cheek against his chest again.

"The bullets passed through. The wounds closed. The same ... traits that allow us to shift from one form to another also make it possible for us to heal very rapidly ... even from wounds that would kill a human."

Abby digested that in silence for a while—at least she tried to. It was as hard to accept as the fact that she'd seen this man, the man holding her in his arms, as a beast-man and a beautiful wolf. Why, she wondered, would such a remarkable being want such an unremarkable creature as herself?

She looked up at him when the dance ended, searching his gaze, and finally went up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Then I'm very, very glad you are what you are, Seth Banner.

He didn't allow her to escape with no more than an affectionate peck. Before she could pull away, he settled his mouth over hers and kissed her deeply enough to take the starch out of her knees. Bemused, more than a little giddy from the experience, she didn't actually register the attention they'd drawn until Seth guided her toward the ‘seats’ Adrian and Jerico had appropriated.

"Where's Cameron?” she asked curiously when she'd glanced around.

Adrian grinned at her. “He wasn't too happy about standing around holding your purse. He went to stow it in the car and promised to bring back a round of beer."

Abby was torn between amusement at the image Adrian had summoned and irritation about her purse. “You think it'll be alright in the SUV? There isn't much money in it, but my IDs..."

Seth grinned at her. “You think anybody would be stupid enough to steal it out of my car?"

He had a point. Dismissing it, she focused on watching the dancers. Frank sauntered up and settled beside her to talk after a few moments. Seth, Adrian, and Jerico all bristled, but aside from giving him unwelcoming looks, which he cheerfully ignored, they kept their displeasure to themselves. A couple of the other men who'd shared their table at the dinner wandered up after a minutes.

She yielded to persuasion after a while and joined Frank, who despite his disclaimer was a very good dancer, in a lively country dance, but then had to sit several out to catch her breath. Cameron dragged her out onto the dance floor when the next slow dance started up.

"I'm sorry about what happened earlier,” she said tentatively.

He uttered a humorless laugh. “I'm sorrier about what didn't."

Abby bit her lip to keep from smiling. “That, too."

He grinned down at her then. “You can make it up to me,
chère."

She laughed. “I can?” she asked teasingly.

He narrowed his eyes at her seductively. “Maybe I should say, you will."

Warmth blossomed inside of her both at the look in his eyes and the reminder. She felt more than a touch of uneasiness, though. “It's ... I don't really know what's acceptable and what isn't,” she said uncomfortably instead of asking him if that was allowed as she'd intended. “I'd feel a lot better if I knew the customs."

He settled his lips near her ear. “Anything that feels good,
chère
,” he murmured huskily, “is entirely acceptable to me ... and you felt very, very good."

Goosebumps rose along her neck as his heated breath caressed her, making her shiver. “I was talking about pack etiquette,” she said reprovingly if a little breathlessly.

He sucked at a small patch of skin just beneath her ear. “You are free to choose your lovers ... until you choose a mate ... and afterwards if you're inclined, once the Alpha has bred upon you."

She frowned at him curiously when he lifted his head. “Didn't ... someone say that the Alpha's female was the pack breeder?"

He shrugged. “This is true. The Alpha male and female breed first, however. The Alpha has first rights to off-spring and the duty to insure his line. Once the Alpha is certain he has bred on his woman, however, he generally allows relations between his female and his lieutenants, his Betas, to keep peace within the pack ... relative peace,” he added wryly. “We
are
territorial by nature."

"That doesn't make you any different from human males,” Abby retorted.

He gave her a strange look. “We have many things in common with human males,” he said, “beyond the ability to look as they do."

"I'm not sure that's completely true,” Abby said with amusement. “You're much more handsome than any human male I've seen."

He reddened faintly at the compliment, which thoroughly charmed her, grinning a little uncomfortably. “You think so?” he murmured.

"Absolutely."

He seemed to debate with himself for a moment. “And my lovemaking? Was that up to par?"

Abby laughed, feeling her own face heat. “Cameron!"

He eyed her with a mixture of amusement and interest. “I'm serious. Was it ... the same?"

"Not hardly!” she said wryly, then added when he looked disconcerted. “Indescribably better!"

He grinned at her wolfishly. “Indescribable, huh?"

"Wickedly wonderful!” she teased.

He pulled her close again. “Watch it, woman. I may have to drag you off in the dark and see if I can wring more praise from you ... and this sure as hell isn't a good place for it."

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Chapter Seventeen

As bone-weary and footsore as she was when they finally made it home that night, Abby was almost too ‘wired’ to sleep. She'd never enjoyed so much appreciative attention from so many men in her life, let alone men as charming and handsome as those who'd swarmed around her all night.

She almost felt as if she'd been transformed into a beautiful swan.

She knew better, of course, and it certainly didn't go to her head when she could see the men outnumbered the women so badly, but it was impossible not to feel good about it.

It was also nearly impossible to reconcile the fact that the men she'd danced and flirted with were the same man-beasts that had seemed so nightmarish to her when they'd surrounded her kidnappers.

And killed them.

She'd tried hard not to allow that thought to take hold in her mind. The Wolfen had saved her. The circumstances had precluded any solution other than what they'd done. She wasn't going to think about the fact that the men who'd kidnapped her had died or how they'd died.

They would've shot her in the head, or maybe worse—strangled her—and left her in a ditch if they'd had their way. She didn't feel any guilt about what had happened to them. She was distressed that her protectors had been put in the position of having to kill them to save her. She was unnerved by the savagery the Wolfen were capable of, but it was almost more comforting to realize that, like beasts, they only killed when necessary.

At least they weren't like humans—willing to kill for money.

As much as she'd dreaded going, as badly as she'd wanted to just hide in her room and wallow in her emotional wreckage, the evening had been good for her, she realized, almost completely diverting her mind from her awful experience earlier. Actually, it
had
diverted her completely for a time. It hadn't erased it, but it had helped her begin to put it behind her like she needed to.

She still wanted to cling to them, she realized as she lay staring at the darkened ceiling of her room. Sex would've diverted her mind a little longer so that she could push the attack a little further from her thoughts. Cuddling in the aftermath would've given her a security boost she still needed very badly. She'd hoped Seth would initiate ... or maybe Cameron. By far, they made her feel most protected and secure when they held her. She would've welcomed Adrian or Jerico, for that matter, even though she didn't think either of them would've made her feel quite as comforted.

They'd been moody when they'd returned from the dance, though. She wasn't entirely certain why. It seemed to her that none of them at been pleased with the fact that she'd danced with so many of the others and yet she'd gotten the distinct impression that it was expected of her. She would've made excuses otherwise—not that they'd seemed a lot happier about it when she'd just talked to the other men and she certainly wouldn't have snubbed them. That would've been just plain rude.

She'd tried to model her behavior after everyone else's since she knew so little about their customs and hadn't wanted to do the wrong thing. As far as she could see, all of the women who'd been there had danced with multiple partners—with pretty much anyone who'd asked.

Maybe it wasn't that, though? Maybe she was trying too hard to fit them into the mold she knew? The behavior she was most familiar with?

Not that she'd done anything wrong, as far as she could see, anyway. It hadn't been a date. They'd gone together like a group of friends and if she'd found herself in a similar situation with her crowd they would've done exactly as she'd done—socialized with everyone else who'd joined the group.

She must have misunderstood something, she decided—not surprising since she knew next to nothing about them.

Surely they'd make allowances for that, though?

Of course, even if they did, it didn't follow that it wouldn't make them angry.

Realizing after a while that the thoughts tumbling around in her mind were too worrisome to allow her to relax enough to sleep, she decided to try a hot shower to see if that would help. It did seem to relax her muscles, but she discovered it didn't help much in calming her troubled thoughts.

Struggling with the temptation to take one of the pills the doctor had given her earlier, she pulled her robe on when she'd dried off and headed into the kitchen to look for comfort food. Ordinarily, she fought the urge to indulge for no other reason. If she hadn't, and hadn't been fairly successful in it, she thought wryly, she supposed she'd be shaped more like a barrel by now than anything recognizable as ‘womanly.’ She
needed
something, though.

She discovered when she got into the kitchen that her kitchen table and chairs had vanished.

Mildly irritated, she stared at the spot for several moments and finally dismissed it. Despite Adrian's efforts to put them back together after the brawl, the table and the chairs had been accidents waiting to happen.

In the scheme of things, the state of her household was low on her priorities. If the Wolfen council accepted her and she was allowed to stay, then she could worry about it. Otherwise, it hardly mattered.

She realized while she stood staring inside of the refrigerator that it was the barely acknowledged anxiety that they wouldn't accept her that was at the root of her restlessness. She was tired of running. As unnerving as everything about the Wolfen was, Seth had convinced her with very little effort that they were her best hope for survival. She didn't know if it was because Seth was so persuasive. If it was because she'd seen what they were capable of. Or if it was just because she wanted to believe it, but she'd latched onto the hope he'd given her as if it was life-line—because it was—and it was too tenuous not to give rise to the fear that it would be snatched away.

She wasn't certain that she would have if she hadn't already become so attached to Seth and Cameron and Adrian and Jerico that she couldn't bare the thought that she would never see them again. As crazy as it was, though, it was them she thought of as her life line, them she was so desperate to cling to.

Seth hadn't said that they meant to claim her, she realized, but he'd implied it.

Maybe that was part of what was worrying her? The uncertainty that they meant to, or would? From what he'd said, she understood that participating meant she was willing to accept whoever won—even if it wasn't them.

They'd said she could choose, though. She didn't have to take whoever won just because they had.

Would the guys be upset if she chose them? Were they hoping to settle ‘the problem’ on someone else?

She discovered when she finally gave up on finding anything she wanted in the refrigerator that Seth had come to stand in the doorway of the kitchen. She tensed, sucking in a sharp breath when she spied his shadowy figure.

"Couldn't sleep?"

She pressed a hand to her chest above her madly pounding heart. “Too much on my mind, I guess,” she responded finally.

He tilted his head, studying her. “Still anxious about joining the gathering?"

She nodded, heaving a gusty breath of irritation. “A little,” she said wryly.

He moved toward her, settling his arms around her when he reached her and drawing her close. Closing her eyes, Abby leaned against his solid form gratefully.

Now if she could just get him into the bedroom, she thought with wry amusement.

Almost as if he'd read her thoughts, he shifted away from her and bent to scoop her in his arms. A little startled by the move, she gasped, throwing her arms around his neck.

They met up with Cameron in the hallway.

Seth halted. “Get out of the way, Fontaine,” he growled.

"This issue has not been settled,
mon ami
,” Cameron said tightly. “Put her down."

Abby glanced from one man to the other unhappily. “Don't ... fight. Please?"

Cameron stared at her hard for a long moment and finally, reluctantly, stepped back. Turning the doorknob, he shoved her bedroom door open and stepped to one side to allow Seth to enter her room with her.

Unfortunately, she discovered he'd followed them in.

Frustration welled inside her. “I just ... don't want to be alone,” she muttered plaintively as Seth leaned over to settle her in her bed.

He hesitated, flicked a glance at Cameron and then lay down beside her, pulling her against his length.

Wondering if Cameron would stalk across the room and drag him from the bed, Abby lay tensely against him for several moments, listening. Finally, she heard the light pad of Cameron's bare feet across the floor.

Then the bed dipped.

Startled when he slid into the bed behind her, she turned her head to look back at him. She discovered that Seth and Cameron were eyeing one another challengingly over her head.

Well, fuck!

After considering the situation a little frantically for several moments, she finally reached for Cameron's hand and dragged his arm across her waist, then looped her arm across Seth's waist. “Now I feel safe,” she muttered with determined aplomb, resolutely closing her eyes.

The tension she felt in both of them wasn't particularly conducive to relaxation, but she'd been physically exhausted when she'd climbed into bed the first time. The warmth of their bodies and the comfort of their nearness lulled her despite the hostility radiating from them and she found herself drifting toward sleep in a few minutes.