First Bite (The Dark Wolf Series) (14 page)

He grimaced. What would his dad say if he knew his own son was now one of the hated predators? Hell, what would his dad say if he saw a wolf, any wolf, that was this fucking big?
That’s how you tell the werewolves from the natural wolves, Dad
. Of course, Baker didn’t plan to tell his father anything of the sort. In fact, unless Baker found a way to return to his human form, he wasn’t going to be doing any talking at all. Right now, however, he figured his best bet was to use his new four-legged body to get gone, as far and as fast as he could in case anyone did decide to follow him. He’d figure out how to stand on two legs again later.

And somehow he’d figure out how to save Riley. There was no way he was leaving his best friend in Meredith’s bloodstained hands. For shit’s sake, he and Riley had done everything together since second grade, and now they were both fucking grade-A werewolves. It was just like something out of a horror movie, but they’d deal with it together. If Riley was still alive. Baker shook
his head, making the thick gray fur around his neck stand out like a mane. He wasn’t going to think like that. Not about Riley.

Hold on, buddy. Just hold on.

The moon was blotted out by an overcast sky, a lucky break as far as Travis was concerned. Break number two was a narrow steel bridge over a shallow creek. The fuel gauge was on empty when he deliberately skidded the truck and wedged it sideways between the girders, blocking both lanes. If the hunters had managed to obtain another vehicle, they’d have to abandon it here.

Neva thought they should wipe down the cab of the truck before leaving, but there was no point. Local law enforcement would most likely chalk up the whole incident to joyriding teens. He had no record, as he’d never been foolish enough to get arrested, and he doubted that Neva’s prints were on file, either.

As wolves, they splashed through the cold water of the creek for more than fifteen miles. The first ten, Neva kept up with him readily. The last five, she was cold and exhausted, and he’d had to all but bite her to keep her going. The frigid water would hide their scent. Another town had been much closer, less than two miles away from the bridge in the opposite direction. But their pursuers would
expect
them to go there.

When the fugitive pair finally emerged from the water, they were at the edge of the Crossford industrial park, with an entire county between them and the abandoned truck.

The darkness was deep and soothing, a velvety blanket to hide them from human sight. Lights were few and far between here, and simple to steer clear of. Travis led the sagging Neva through a maze of warehouses and compounds until he saw a small, rundown building without any lights around it at all. It
looked like it might have started its life as a car parts dealership, but a big wooden sign now read, “Brother’s Keeper Secondhand Store,” and in smaller letters under it, “Food Bank.” Break number three, he thought.

He resumed his human form and pulled some slim tools from the inner pocket of his leather jacket. The lock was a simple one. “Food, clothing, and shelter,” he announced, holding the door open for Neva. He expected her to make some smart-mouthed comment about breaking and entering, but the dark wolf was silent as she crossed the threshold. He’d pushed her hard and far, but he couldn’t be sorry. It very nearly hadn’t been far enough. After they’d rested and eaten, he was going to push her into moving on again. At least for a while. If he got her to a safe location—and gave her the rundown of the basic rules of Changeling life—surely he would have more than fulfilled his responsibilities. She could manage on her own from there.

His wolf didn’t seem to like that idea at all, but too frickin’ bad. Travis figured it was way past time he gave up babysitting. Time to hit the open road. He’d done his good deed and then some, so surely he deserved to resume his complication-free existence where he only had himself to worry about. The little voice in his head scoffed at him,
That’s all you deserve
. He sighed and turned his attention to Neva.

A blue glow in the clothing section of the thrift store—and a few errant sparks that Travis hoped wouldn’t set the place on fire—signaled her return to human form. He could only see her head and bare shoulders above the garment racks, and a fleeting glimpse of more as she passed from one aisle to another. There was something teasing and erotic about it, although he’d seen her completely naked more than once now. Changeling senses allowed him to hear the soft susurrus of fabric as it brushed over her bare skin. His cock hardened until he had to readjust his jeans
to accommodate it, and his mind had a sudden clear picture of laying her down atop an enormous pile of soft clothing and—

She emerged wearing a truly hideous tentlike dress in a loud red, purple, and orange tropical fabric that no self-respecting islander would be caught dead in. Not only was it at least ten sizes too big, it covered Neva from neck to ankle. As he watched, she belted it casually with a fuzzy pink chenille tie that looked stolen from some grandma’s bathrobe.

He couldn’t help it. “What the hell is
that
?”

Neva shrugged. “I think they call it loungewear. I don’t see any point to wearing clothes that I actually like, since I’ll just lose them the next time I turn into a wolf. This way I’ll be
glad
they’re gone.”

A dress like that would have to be burned to make sure it didn’t come back from the dead, he thought. “I’ll teach you how to keep your clothes, how to bring them with you when you’re ready to take on human form,” he blurted.
Oh, for Christ’s sake.
There was another promise, another commitment, another responsibility. But, god
damn
, it would haunt him for the rest of his life if he left such a beautiful woman to dress like a—

She
was
beautiful, he realized. Even in that monstrosity of a dress, she looked utterly appealing. His cock certainly hadn’t relaxed one bit, but the rest of him was fully focused now. And it wasn’t just her looks that intrigued him. He’d never met a woman with more grit and determination, and while she drove him crazy with her stubbornness and her irritating refusal to trust him, he admired her.

And he wanted her.

“Good. When do we start?” she asked, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he found himself trailing his knuckles along her jawline. He lifted her chin with a finger and traced the outline of her lips, then touched them with his own. And there it was, just as he’d
imagined—a taste to match her scent, sweet and tart at the same time. A hint of apple wine, a scattering of spice. For a moment he wasn’t sure if she would respond in kind or try to deck him. She didn’t seem sure at first, either. Then something abruptly changed, eased, and gave way. Her lips were full with arousal as she poured herself into the kiss, and just as suddenly, he couldn’t get enough of her.

Travis savored, tasted, inhaled, devoured. Rained kisses on her lips, her face, her ears, her throat. Tore away the gaudy fabric to feast on those caramel nipples, and the feather-soft breasts that filled his hands oh so perfectly.

The last thing he expected was to be interrupted by his inner wolf. It whuffed its concern, not for him, but for Neva. Startled, his wits returned, and he took a hard look at the woman in his arms. The overbright robe she wore failed to lend any color to her lovely face, and there were deep shadows under her eyes.

“Mmm, don’t stop,” she murmured, gliding a hand through his hair. He grabbed her wrist and could feel the faint tremble in it. Neva was exhausted. In fact, if he wasn’t holding her, would she be standing at all?

“How many times have you Changed recently?” he demanded, trying to come up with that number himself. Two? Three?

“Don’t know.” She tried to press her face close for another kiss. “Doesn’t matter.”

He gave her a shake. “Wake up. It matters plenty.”

Neva frowned at him. “You kiss me, then you yell at me. You really need to join an anger management program, you know?” At least he thought that was what she said. The words were slurred together as if she’d been drinking. She shoved at him, but succeeded only in pushing herself off balance.

Oh, for Christ’s sake.
Travis caught her before she fell and simply picked her up. Her protest was cranky but mumbled, and
that fact alone showed she was in rough shape. It also told him he was a complete idiot and a jerk and everything she’d ever accused him of being. Shifting form took enormous amounts of energy. Even though Changelings could draw most of that energy from the earth and the air around them—hence the static charge that accompanied the transition—
new
Changelings weren’t practiced enough to do that. The energy they spent on a first Change was usually all their own. While he was old enough and experienced enough to shift two or three times a day if the need arose, Neva was definitely not. It would take rest, and plenty of it, plus major calories, in order to rebuild her reserves.

Well, at least he didn’t have to go hunt down a moose for her. Cradling Neva to his chest, he strode to the back of the building, where endless shelves of auto parts had been supplanted with food bank items. The assortment was somewhat odd (an entire pallet of canned sardines in mustard sauce?) but plentiful. There was an aisle of canned Asian vegetables with names he couldn’t read. There were cases of sports drinks that promised electrolytes, and he nabbed a couple of bottles. But it was protein he was looking for, and he really didn’t want to go back for the damn sardines unless he had to. Finally he found some ancient refrigerator units on the very back wall that boasted six cartons of milk, some cheese, and a few packages of something he didn’t expect from a place like this—real meat. Raw animal protein was a new Changeling’s best friend.

Neva just wanted to sleep, but someone kept waking her up.
Swallow this. Eat that. Chew that some more. Just another bite. Drink this.
Tiny bits of food were placed in her mouth, cups were held to her lips. No sooner had she drifted off than the whole cycle started again. She wanted to push it away, tell whoever it was to stop, to leave her alone, but she couldn’t seem to muster
the anger or the energy. Or the will—in spite of her exhaustion, she was aware of a monstrous hunger, almost like a living thing. A great, gaping void in her midsection that could not be filled. As if the person feeding her understood her need, the pea-size bites of food came faster, especially the meat.

Good.
Her inner wolf was awake and eager.
More.

Neva’s eyes remained closed, but she would have rolled them if she’d had the energy. In her previous life, she’d been extremely health-conscious and tried to limit her consumption of red meat. She’d even considered going vegan, but right now meat seemed like the most amazing substance in the world, a perfect antidote to the vast hunger that had taken her over. It was delicious, soothing, succulent, and—

Completely raw.

Someone—Travis, of course, she could smell him now—was feeding her
raw meat
like she was a goddamn dog. Her hands lay slack in her lap, only because she lacked the strength to move them. Otherwise she’d be throttling him. With a supreme effort, she managed to glare at him through slitted eyes, but within a few seconds her weary lids drooped shut. Exhausted and resigned, she accepted the next bite, promising herself to exact revenge as soon as she was herself again. Or as close to being herself as she was ever going to get, now that she was a full-fledged were—

Only the fact that she was freezing kept her from plunging headlong into asleep again. Despite the blankets tucked around her, she shivered like a clockwork toy—until she felt herself drawn into Travis’s lap and held close against his broad chest by strong arms. His body radiated heat, a delicious, life-giving heat that gradually seeped inside her and warmed her very bones. Vaguely she remembered that he’d done this for her before. Just as she relaxed into dreamlessness, she thought she saw a big
golden wolf curled around her, sheltering her, protecting her. As before, as if they shared a great secret, it winked one of its blue, blue eyes…

The next time Neva awoke, it was on her own. No one was urging food on her, although she could see a carton of milk, a box of crackers, some cheese, and a jar of peanut butter with a spoon in it, all gathered on a small table near her hand. She blinked the sleep away, ran a hand through her hair, and focused on her surroundings. Furniture of every shape, size, and vintage surrounded her. Bookshelves lined the walls, and dining room chairs hung from the rafters. Buried in quilts up to her chin, she was ensconced in an old, overstuffed recliner. So comfortable, in fact, that only the desperate need to pee provided any motivation to move at all. She struggled out of the chair and stumbled her way through the furniture maze and the labyrinth of used-clothing racks until she found a washroom.

When she emerged, Travis was standing there with an assortment of jeans and T-shirts over his arm.

“Try these on or go find some on your own. You need clothing—
real
clothing so you won’t stand out—and then we’ve got to get out of here.”