Scared of Spiders (3 page)

C
lint and Brandon
filed into the warehouse, followed by the rest of the pack. A shiver ran through Brandon as the lingering scent of Josie hit his nostrils. He breathed deeply. Damn, it was as if she’d just walked by, and the sweet aroma, uniquely hers, made him hard, even given the reason for their presence at the warehouse on a weekend.

“Do you really think they’re going to show up?” Brandon asked Clint as he leaned against some stacked crates. He hoped the rogues showed up quickly so they could take care of business and still salvage enough of the evening for him to “drop by” Josie’s place with a movie and a pizza. The whole going slow so as to not scare her was chafing to both him and his beast, which whined to mark her. He could sense the impatience in Clint, too, the only saving grace in their battle to win her affections.

“Oh, they’ll show,” said Clint, his expression hard. “I made the message pretty clear. Meet us on our terms, or we’d take their no-show as an act of war.”

“Should have gone for war,” grumbled Brandon. “You know these rejects aren’t going to join the pack. And even if they leave town, they’ll just end up terrorizing another place.” The rogues had caught their attention when they’d shown up in their town a week or so back and didn’t follow pack protocol by checking in with the alpha for the area. They’d further broken pack rules by hunting without permission and causing bodily harm to a human. Unacceptable, hence the summons for them to appear and face judgment.

“My pack. My rules. Besides, I get the feeling there’s another player guiding them. Rogues aren’t usually so brazen.”

“Speaking of which . . .” Brandon trailed off and stood up straight as he took his position of beta beside his alpha. The rogues came slinking in, a juvenile-looking bunch with greasy hair and biker-styled clothing. Wannabes who, in their very arrogance, were dangerous. Brandon still thought killing them all was the best option. If someone was pulling their strings, that would send the message of “fuck off or die,” too.

But then again, his kill-now, oops-later attitude was why he wasn’t pack leader. He’d let Clint enjoy the headaches. Besides, while Clint was occupied with pack politics, it left Brandon more time to pursue their little mouse, whose commanding tone in the office was at odds with her timid nature outside the workplace. But the occasional spark of attitude proved she was coming around. Slowly.

The rogue leader sauntered up to them with a cocky grin on his face. “So, who’s the old guy in charge?”

Clint gave the arrogant pup a cold smile. “Me. Why? You think you can take me?”

The smile on the young rogue’s face didn’t falter, and Brandon wanted to shake his head at the stupidity. Youth was well and good, but Clint was just entering his prime, and aside from his experience, he outweighed the pup by several stones.

“Name the place, old man, and I’ll whip your ass for control of the pack.” The challenger and his lackeys laughed amidst the growls of the pack. The pup laughed louder at the encouragement of his mangy followers, and it was then that Brandon noticed something disturbing. While all their faces were twisted in a rictus of laughter, their eyes shone with madness and, in some cases, even tinges of fear.

Brandon wished he knew sign language so he could have flashed some secret signs to Clint and warned him to watch for treachery. It was becoming more and more obvious the rogues were merely puppets, and the power to control that many meant a strong player had entered the fray without announcing themselves.
Bad manners.

“Choose your body,” said Clint, his tone hard and his posture brooking no nonsense.

“Wolf of course.” The young rogue grinned as he stripped out of his clothes to reveal a lean, muscled body that, without its concealing layers, appeared even smaller.

Clint, on the other hand, once stripped, looked even more imposing with bulging muscles all over, which Brandon grudgingly admired.
No matter how much I work out, I don’t have the build for that kind of bulk.

Clint’s shift into his wolf—a huge black monster with intense glowing green eyes—was effortless. The pup, on the other hand, really had to force his beast to emerge, a painful process that just reinforced Brandon’s impression that the rogue group didn’t act of their own wills.

Clint sat on his hairy haunches and waited for the smaller wolf to attack, which it did with the rabid intensity of a pit bull. However, it was clear from the onset what the outcome of the fight would be.

Clint’s wolf let the young one snarl and snap then, in a show of force meant to intimidate, flattened the pup in one fell swoop. With his massive jaw, he pinned the other wolf by the throat to the floor.

That should have ended it. Instead, it acted like an invisible switch, and Brandon barely had time to shift, his clothes tearing as his wolf shoved through. Just in time, too, for the pack of rogues, shifting in a burst of fabric, attacked.

Brandon actually enjoyed putting the mangy pack in their place. And he would have emerged unscathed if a gasp of fright hadn’t distracted him. He turned his head to see Josie, with her eyes wide and a hand clapped over her mouth, watching them from the stairs to the office.

A second later, his inattention caused a wolf flying at him to knock him down, sharp teeth snapping at his throat. Brandon scrabbled for the upper paw and regained it in time to hear Josie shriek.

A quick glance showed his little mouse standing with terrified eyes halfway down the steps to the office, a snarling wolf advancing toward her.

Done playing, Brandon snapped the neck of the wolf under him and bolted for the stairs. Clint was a black streak beside him. Brandon got there first and grabbed the foreleg of the rogue menacing Josie.

He yanked down the mutt who thought to go after his woman. As he subdued the young pup, he saw Clint shift back into human shape in time to grab Josie as she slumped in a faint.

Hmm, guess we’ll have some explaining to do when she wakes up.

A
glance
at the stairs showed Josie, frozen with fright and with good reason, considering the wolf advancing on her. Clint ran for her, and when Brandon took care of the rogue, Clint shifted back to his man shape in time to catch Josie, whose eyes rolled up into her head as she fainted.

“Fuck.” He scooped her up and gave a quick glance to the battle winding up below—less a battle and more of a massacre.
What were the pups thinking?
Brandon, still in wolf shape, met his gaze and yipped. Satisfied that Brandon would take care of the rogues still kicking, Clint carried his sleeping beauty up to his office. He laid her tenderly on the couch and hurried to pull his spare clothes out. But he wasn’t quick enough.

He heard her gasp and turned while still pulling up his pants. Her startled glance settled on his still mostly naked body, and her mouth formed an
O
. She stared at his bared upper body then trailed down to stop at the bared triangle visible at the front of his pants. Clint buttoned with difficulty, given his engorging state. Her cheeks reddened, and her flustered gaze shifted to look at everything but him.

“It’s okay to look,” he teased as he tried to lighten the mood before the inevitable questions began. “Heck, you can even touch.”

The color on her face deepened, but despite her embarrassment, the sweet scent of her desire wafted up, and Clint grinned wolfishly.
Okay, so she still wants me. Now to explain the fact we’re all werewolves.

“Um, I’m sorry to have intruded on your dog fight,” she said as she fidgeted on the couch, still not meeting his gaze.

“Come on; don’t play dumb. I know you saw us and the truth of what we are.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, lying badly.

“Josie,” he cajoled. She refused to meet his eyes. He knelt in front of her and forced her to meet his gaze. “Josie, baby, you’re not crazy.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she retorted. “Because I thought I saw a wolf turn into a man, and that’s just nuts.”

“Not nuts. You didn’t mistake what you saw. We’re werewolves,” he said with a shrug and then held his breath as he waited for her reaction.

She opened and shut her mouth several times at his claim, clearly searching for words. Before she could say anything, Brandon walked into the office, his low-slung jeans and bare chest momentarily capturing Josie’s attention before her trademark blush and shyness made her turn away.

“So, how’s the news of our furriness coming along?” asked Brandon, looking between them with curiosity.

Josie didn’t answer, so Clint did. “I think our Little General here is having a hard time with the concept.”

Fire sparked in her eyes and her tone when she spoke. “I get the concept fine. You’re both werewolves. What I want to know is how, why, and what’s going to happen to me?”

“The how is I was born this way while Brandon here was bitten.”

“You mean if that wolf had bitten me, I’d be a werewolf, too?” she squeaked.

“Maybe. But not likely. It takes, at the very least, an alpha to change a person, and even then, it’s fifty/fifty whether the human they bite will turn.”
And those who didn’t died.

“So, your saliva is dangerous?” she queried, her telltale blush pinking again.

Clint hastened to clarify. “Only when we’re in wolf shape can our saliva, introduced into the blood stream of a human, change a person.” He neglected mentioning the fatal aspect. It shook Clint to realize that the rogue wolf, with one bite, could have taken her from them. It also made him question whether or not he’d ever have the guts to attempt to change her. She was so frail; what if they tried and she died? He couldn’t take the chance, but then again, if he didn’t, she’d never bear his pups and would live the short lifespan of a human. A catch-22 either way.

“Oh, good to know. So I guess, now that you’ve told me your secrets, you’re going to kill me.” She hunched in on herself, and Clint couldn’t help himself.

He laughed. “Oh, baby, you are so cute. No, we’re not going to kill you.”

“Definitely not,” added Brandon. “Although I’m not averse to biting.”

Josie’s head snapped back up in shock that turned into a grudging smile as she saw Brandon’s grin.

Clint chuckled. “Ignore him. He’s just kidding.”

“No, I’m not. I love to nibble on that soft spot on the back of a woman’s neck. . . . ” Suddenly realizing he might be saying too much, Brandon shut up.

Clint sat down beside her on the couch and, hoping she wouldn’t flinch or bolt, slid an arm around her frail shoulders. To his surprise, after an initial stiffness, she leaned into him and laid her head on his shoulder.

“I’ve got to admit,” said Clint, awed that she still seemed to trust him after they’d revealed their secret, “you’re taking this awfully well. Most women would have run screaming.”

“Promise not to laugh?” she said, her voice uncertain. “But even knowing the two of you can change into wolves with big teeth, you don’t scare me.”

Clint’s heart almost stopped at her admission.

“Truly?” Brandon knelt at her feet and looked at her with longing in his eyes. A sentiment Clint echoed.
She accepts us. How unexpected and remarkable.

Josie nodded her head. “Weird, huh, especially considering I’m the girl who runs from spiders.”

No, not so weird because you belong to us. But I think I’ll keep that revelation for another day.

“Well, that’s the great thing about knowing werewolves; we make great spider killers,” Brandon said with a grin.

And mates,
thought Clint. “Brandon, I’m going to run Josie home. Can you make sure the mess downstairs is taken care of?” He could see his beta bristle at the order to stay behind, but one of them needed to ensure the rogues were taken care of. That was, killed. He didn’t want to risk a single one of them bringing word of Josie’s existence back to whomever controlled them.

Brandon understood the need and gave him a quick nod.

To spare Josie any visual trauma—the blood splatter and sprawled bodies still decorating the warehouse below—he took her out via the rear fire exit. To his surprise, she said not a word about their strange route to his SUV. Actually, she was very quiet.

Once he got the SUV on the road, he broke the silence. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Oh, just wishful thinking.”

“About?”
Me and you naked
was the answer he hoped for.

“I wondered what if would be like to be a werewolf and not be scared of stuff.”

“Being a shifter doesn’t make fear go away.”

“But it would help, I imagine,” she replied dryly.

She had a point. “Courage doesn’t come from a layer of fur and teeth; courage comes from inside.”

“Yeah, well, apparently the creator forgot to give me my dose.”

Clint chuckled. “Baby, I think you’re plenty brave. I mean look at the way you run the place, ordering those big bad wolves around like trained puppies.”

She blushed. “That’s different. It’s work and has nothing to do with bravery.”

“Really?” he said, turning to look at her. “Tell that to my last two managers. I’d just about given up hope on getting someone with the right skills when you came along. And, guess what, you might be human, but you get the job done.”

“Great. But I still wish I had the other type of courage so I don’t turn into a blubbering mess when a spider pops out of nowhere,” she said with a grimace.

“If you don’t mind me asking, where did your fear of arachnids come from?”

“Would you believe from a nightmare?” She squirmed in her seat. “It’s dumb, I know, but I’ve had this recurring dream since my mom died when I was a little girl. As you might have guessed, it has a spider in it, and, well, let’s just say it’s gruesome. Ever since the nightmares started, I freak out at the sight of bugs, spiders being the worst.”

“As long I’m around, I promise to protect you from eight-legged freaks.” He managed to say it without laughing, but his lips twitched when she scowled at him.

“That is so not funny.”

Clint chuckled. “Sorry. I loved that movie.”

She tried to keep the scowl, but his humor ended up contagious, and she giggled. “Thanks for not making too much fun of me. Just for that, the next time you get fleas, I’ll help you put your collar on.” She’d no sooner said the words than she clapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes widened.

Clint howled. “Oh, baby, I am really starting to think you’re not timid at all. It’s an act to hide your wicked side.”

She took her hand away from her face and smiled. “Only with you and Brandon. You both make me feel . . .” Her brow scrunched up as she tried to find a word.

“Like you’ve come home,” he murmured.

She turned startled eyes to him, but he avoided the question he could sense on the tip of her tongue.
I don’t think she’s quite ready for the whole “fate has decreed you my mate” thing yet.
But he couldn’t resist dropping a light kiss on her lips. The brief contact sizzled, and he wanted more, but not in the car like a teenager. He made it out of and around the car in time to help her out, and then he walked her to her door. He grabbed her keys from her trembling hands, enjoying the fact that his touch had unbalanced her as well.

In a deft movement, he unlocked her door and opened it. Before she could escape to the safety and normality of her home though, he spun her and crushed her to him.

I’m done fantasizing and fist pumping. The thing I feared most, her rejecting me because of my inner beast, is no longer an issue. And, besides, I can’t wait to taste her anymore.