First Bite (The Dark Wolf Series) (27 page)

He almost lost it then and there. Stay? He didn’t want to fucking stay! Baker stomped away and tried to walk off his impatience and his frustration. His thoughts were as ferocious as his pace.
Riley could be dead already, and here I am fucking off in yuppie land. I should go on my own. I should have gone a long time ago. I should never have fucking left him there in the first place
.

Fortunately the Pearl District had no shortage of green spaces. At last he came upon an enormous stepped fountain in Jamison Square and sat on the edge overlooking it. Eventually, the sight and sound of running water helped him chill out. Neva’s plan was a good one, if they could pull it off. And he knew damn well it would be better to storm the bitch queen’s castle during the day—Meredith was definitely a night owl. It wouldn’t hurt if he and Neva were fresh. They would need all their strength, both mental and physical, if they were to succeed in freeing their friends—

Water. Like.

Baker jumped to his feet, startling a couple of teen girls with a laptop a few yards away. “Sorry, sorry.” He held up his hands in a calming gesture. “Just nearly fell asleep, that’s all.” They giggled and returned to their shared screen, talking a mile a minute. His acute hearing picked up the words
cute
, which pleased him, and
crazy
, which didn’t.

He settled back down, wondering if the excuse he’d given the girls was true. Maybe he
had
been on the edge of sleep—why else would something so weird pop into his head?

Not strange.

And the girls had been right. He was now officially crazy. Wait—Neva had talked in his head with some kind of telepathy when they were both on four feet. It had taken some doing, but he’d managed to answer her. Was there another werewolf around here?
Hello? Um. Who am I talking to?

Wolf. Baker wolf.

Holy shit, he was talking to himself.
Where the hell did you come from?

Always here.

Baker felt the color drain from his face. He thought he was doing pretty damn good at coping with the whole werewolf gig. But he didn’t expect the four-legged side of him to have a personality of its own. Wait,
wait
, if he was hearing voices, then maybe he was schizophrenic. Maybe that was a side effect of the whole shape-shifting thing. The transformation had scrambled his fucking neurons.

Not crazy. Wolf.

Sure, why not. Baker headed for the street then, figuring it was long past time to fulfill his assignment to get a room for the night—and he was feeling a definite urge to lie down. There didn’t seem to be any hotels in the Pearl District, but that wasn’t
a problem. He hailed a cab, confident that its driver would know exactly where to go.

As the bright-yellow car headed north, Baker fingered the disposable cell phone in his pocket. After he’d checked in, he’d let Neva know which hotel he was in. And then he’d make use of the minibar.

Following the concierge’s directions, Neva headed to the elevators. They were large and as sumptuously appointed as the lobby, with real walnut paneling and framed works by local artists.
I can hardly wait to see the room.
She quashed that thought immediately, still feeling the pang of guilt. Linda Ballister’s credit-card bill was going to be a doozy. She’d make a note of the address on the driver’s license. If she survived long enough, Neva determined to pay the money back someday.

Go help Travis now?
Her wolf had been pestering her all day. She’d spelled out the plan and all the whys and wherefores of the situation, but the creature was as eager to help as a child—and just as good at being patient.

Tomorrow morning.
Neva tried to send soothing thoughts to her alter ego, and imagined stroking its thick dark fur.
That’s when we go help Travis. We have to eat and sleep so we’re ready. We want to be very strong.

Wolf is strong now.

Well, I’m not. If Meredith catches us, there’ll be nobody to help Travis. We’re all he’s got.

It wasn’t the answer her inner wolf was looking for, but it finally left her alone for a while. Between reassuring it and trying to help Baker with his new reality, Neva felt like she was
babysitting. Holy crap, had Travis felt like that with her? How embarrassing was that?

She emerged into a wide and elegant hallway, with plush, patterned carpet that cushioned her aching feet. Victorian sconces glowed by every entry. There were fewer doors than she would have guessed, then realized it was because the rooms were big. The quality of the place was even reflected in the door lock—it only took one swipe of the key card to open it.

Baker was propped up on one of the two king-size beds, watching TV with a remote in one hand and a tiny liquor bottle in the other. The bottle had a large group of friends on the nightstand, all empty.

“Hey,” she said. “I brought food.” She extended the bags she’d been holding, and he turned his head—

She never saw him move. She didn’t even have time to yell as a massive gray wolf bore her to the floor. Neva hit her head hard enough to see stars, but she was more concerned with the long, sharp teeth that were bared inches from her nose. Her own wolf tried to launch itself, but she struggled to hold it back. If she Changed now, there’d be a helluva fight. “Baker,” she said firmly. “It’s Neva.”

He growled loud enough that she could feel the vibration clear through to her bones.
You goddamn bitch. What have you done with Riley?

“I’m
Neva
! Neee-vaaah.”

The growling stopped, and he looked confused. The big head leaned forward and—

He sniffed her. The rubbery black nose inhaled deeply as it passed back and forth over her face, along her throat, her ears. Jeez, it was like being vacuumed—only most Hoovers didn’t have the potential to bite her face off.

Neva?

“Yes, yes, it’s me.” Relief flooded her system until she felt like a pile of limp spaghetti. “I’m Neva and you’re Baker. I was going to ask what you think of the new ’do, but I think we’ve answered
that
question. Hey, can you get off me now?” She drew in a full breath as the big wolf backed awkwardly away.

She’d rather have remained lying down, but decided she’d look too much like prey. Neva rubbed the back of her head and got carefully to her feet, keeping a wary eye on her hairy roommate. His fury was spent, however, and now he just looked sheepish. In a few minutes, he shuffled over to the center of the room and resumed his human form.

“You’re a lot smoother at that now,” she said as she gathered the food bags.

Naked, Baker shoved a pillow in his lap as he plunked down on the nearest bed. “Lost my clothes again.”

“That’s okay. We have more.”

“It talked to me, Neva. You didn’t fucking tell me it was going to talk to me.”

“What talked to you?”

“Baker wolf. The Baker wolf talked to me. Said it liked the water.”

Okaaaay. She’d hoped the shape-shifting would take care of his inebriated state, but apparently no such luck. “You sure picked a great time to get shitfaced.” She extended the bags again. “Here, get some food into you.”

Neva ended up unwrapping the food and placing his hands around a pastrami panini the size of Rhode Island that she’d picked up at a deli. As he settled in happily around his first bite, she took her own meal over to a table by the window. Now that her roommate wasn’t going to kill her, she took a moment to appreciate the decor. The table was far from the standard motel melamine-and-steel pedestal. For one thing, it was real wood,
and for another, the elegant Queen Anne legs spoke of a possible antique or at least a very good reproduction. It matched the tastefully ornate headboards and other pieces of furniture in the expansive room. Only the big-screen TV contrasted with the feeling of opulence and luxury—until the press of a button lowered it out of sight into what she’d thought was an extra dresser. “Wow, this place could be on the cover of
Better Homes and Gardens
,” she breathed.

“I like the Jacuzzi in the bathroom.” Baker’s mouthful of food made him mumble, but he applied plenty of volume so she could hear him anyway. “The wolf said he likes water, so I gave him a bath.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The Baker wolf!” he shouted, probably not realizing how loud he was. “It was in my head at the park. So I came here and gave it a bath. I thought I was crazy at first, but now we’re good buds.” He looked around. “Who took my fucking sandwich?”

“You ate it, bud. Here, I got an extra for you.” She’d seen his appetite in action and guessed rightly that one would never be enough. She’d brought him three, but even a dozen might not put a dent in his hunger. She removed the panini from the paper and again wrapped his hands around it, then stepped back to watch him devour it.
Men.
It just didn’t take much to keep them happy. The classic joke seemed a lot less funny when she thought of Travis, though. He was deeper, more complicated, somehow. She couldn’t picture any mere sandwich distracting him from the task at hand—or from the weight of the world that he carried around. Oh, crap, she thought as she teared up suddenly. She missed him, and his damn wolf, too.

“We’re gonna talk in the morning, okay?” she said to Baker, and put a finger to her lips.

“ ’Kay.”

She left him to it and entered the bathroom, where there seemed to be more mirrors than walls—and was jolted as a striking woman with very long blonde hair looked back at her. Sure, she’d seen her image at the hair salon, but she’d been watching the transformation every minute of the hours it had taken. Now, not having looked at herself for a while, the impact was enormous. The hair extensions had been astronomically priced, but the results were plainly worth it. With makeup hiding her freckles, she looked exactly like her twin, Meredith.

No, wait, she
didn’t
.

Frowning, Neva struck a pose, then another. Yeah, more like
that
. Pouted her lips just so, and practiced what she’d always called
The Look
—that confident, mocking expression that her twin seemed to have been born with. But it wasn’t complete. She rummaged through her handbag and came up with one of several lipsticks she’d bought that day. The shade had to be just right, a combo of Fuck-Me Scarlet and Fresh-Blood Crimson. They weren’t the real names, of course, but where Meredith was concerned, they ought to be. Neva took her time, carefully applying the color with a brush. And stood back.

This time it was right. Coupled with The Look, it was almost perfect. Meredith might as well be in the room with her. Neva practiced the smile then, the million-dollar diva smile with her freshly whitened teeth.

And shivered at her own reflection.

Three pounds of prime roast and a loaf of bread later, Travis had to admit he felt considerably better. His muscles and joints still ached, but the skin on his chest was regenerating nicely where unnatural claws had scraped appetizers from it. He peered out the tiny grated window in the steel door, as he had countless times since he’d awakened, but there still wasn’t much to see—only that there were many doors just like his, all facing into a circular room with a concrete floor. When he’d been dragged here, he could swear he’d gone up a couple of stories—but was he still underground? He murmured a fervent thanks to the goddess for the ever-present fluorescent light, despite its greenish tinge and its irritating buzz. Anything was better than being left in the dark to wonder if those creepy orange-eyed creatures were wandering the shadows.

There were no guards in sight, but that wasn’t too surprising.
Why should there be, when there’s nothing for them to guard but locked doors?
He hadn’t heard a single sound from outside his door, though. Surely he wasn’t the only prisoner here? “Hey! Hey, can anybody hear me?” he finally hollered through the small grate. Grabbing the tin cup from the tray, he banged it against the door, like James Cagney in some old black-and-white movie. “Hey out there!”

Just as it seemed he was alone in the complex, he thought he heard a soft tapping. Travis strained to discern where it was
coming from. To the right, two or maybe three doors away and—it stopped. No.
No, you don’t.
“I can hear you,” he called. “Tap twice for yes if you can make out what I’m saying.”