Sex Symbol (10 page)

A gust of wind rushed across the backyard and slammed the gate on the fence that separated my yard from Eramus’. He must have forgotten to lock it. The growling noise was getting closer and it was much closer to the door to my house than I was. If I ran I would most certainly draw attention to myself if it didn’t already know I was there.

What if it’s just a dog? I thought. Still, it didn’t sound friendly and I was in no mood to get mauled.

I was considering running around the other side of the house to the front when I heard something start to run through the mud. I could hear it splashing closer and closer as I took off down the side of the house. It was gaining on me and the front porch was too far, not to mention the time it would take to get the key out from underneath the flower pot. I ran through the gate and slammed it shut behind me, throwing the latch in place. Not that the lock would keep out a werewolf, but it sure as hell made me feel better.

By the time I turned around Eramus was coming toward me, his long dark robe flapping in the wind like a cape.

“Get inside,” he said.

He wrapped me in his arms, rushing me toward his door with a rustle of wet silk. On the other side of the fence I could hear the sound of gnashing teeth and growling. But the monster didn’t try to get through. It didn’t try jumping over either.

Eramus closed the door behind us and when he looked down at me I remembered that I wasn’t wearing a bra. Not only that, my t-shirt was white. The look he gave didn’t embarrass me. It wasn’t like some pervert checking me out. His honey-brown eyes looked haunted…and hungry. He ran a hand through his wet hair, which now looked black. His robe was open and I took a step toward him without thinking. Something about him drew me near. The black pants he wore also appeared to be silk, but they weren’t wet enough to cling to him the way my shirt did.

He reached for my arm. “May I?”

His hands were a warm shock against my cold, wet skin. It took me a minute to realize he was checking me for injuries.

“You weren’t hurt, were you?” His voice was soft and the sound warmed me just as much as his hands.

“Um, no. I didn’t even see it.”

As he continued to look up and down my body for signs of injury I realized that I wasn’t trembling from the cold or from fear. In fact, I was quickly starting to warm.

“Eramus?”

“Hmm?”

“That thing out there…it’s a werewolf, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

He stood back up and I could have sworn his eye color had changed. The difference was very subtle, just a little more gold than brown around the irises, but it was there.

With what sounded like a reluctant sigh, Eramus took a step back from me.

“Let me get you something dry to put on.”

I crossed my arms over my breasts, suddenly aware that my nipples were visible. When I didn’t make a move to follow him, Eramus looked back over his shoulder and said, “This way.”

His house was roughly the same size as mine, but that’s where the similarities ended. The walls and floors were made of a dark, beautiful wood. It wasn’t paneling, it was real. His furniture looked to be mostly leather and the lighter tan color broke up the darkness of the walls and floor. As we passed his living room my attention was drawn to the violently red rug underneath the coffee table. It was spread out there like a bloodstain in the middle of the room. He had shelves upon shelves of books. At a glance they looked to be fairly old. There were still several boxes sitting around, all neatly stacked and waiting to be unpacked. And there were dozens and dozens more pots full of wolfsbane. Considering that I’d just been chased by a werewolf, a creature that until recently I’d tried to pretend wasn’t real, the plants were comforting. If werewolves were real, then surely the plants must really keep them at bay, right? I mean, what would prevent something with supernatural strength from breaking in the house if it wanted to? By this reasoning I assumed the plants must work. However, that also made me wonder what Eramus was doing with so many of the purple flowers. I didn’t believe for one second that he kept them around because they were pretty.

His robe flapped behind him and curled about his ankles as he moved. I’d never figured Eramus for the type to wear silk robes, but seeing him in it now I couldn’t imagine him in anything else. His feet were bare—and I liked that.

“So, aren’t we going to talk about what just happened?” I asked. “I knew they were real, but I never knew they were around here. Now suddenly I’ve seen two, or maybe that was the same one, in just a couple of days? What is it, raining werewolves?”

He stopped in front of the bathroom door and motioned for me to go inside. I stepped in, but Eramus remained in the hallway.

“You can use my other robe on the hook there.” He pointed to a long black robe that I knew would swallow me whole, but the thought of wearing his clothes excited me. I also found it strangely comforting. “There are towels, if you need them, in the cabinet. If you hand me your clothes, I can dry them for you.”

“Thank you.”

I closed the door and as I started peeling out of my wet clothes, I could feel that he was still on the other side.

“Aren’t you going to answer me?” I asked.

“I’m thinking about it. Werewolves don’t just hang around without a reason.”

“You’re the second person to say that to me. So, what’s his damn reason then?” I knew instinctively that the wolf outside was male. That surprised me, but no more than everything else. Eramus either felt the same way or already knew the answer, because he didn’t correct me on the wolf’s gender.

“I’m not sure.”

I opened the door and Eramus smiled at the way I looked in his robe. The hem dragged the floor and I’d had to roll up the sleeves to even be able to see my hands. He reached toward me and I gave him my wet clothes.

“Thanks. Not just for this, but for saving me.”

I’d decided to keep on my panties. They weren’t very wet. Besides, I thought it might be awkward to hand him my wet underwear. Goodness knows why after everything else, but I did.

“You’re welcome.”

The heat rising from his body made me wonder if he was running a fever. The temperature was in the fifties outside and he was burning like an oven. As best I could tell, the heat wasn’t on and I hadn’t noticed a fire when walking past the living room.

“How did you know I was out there?”

“I heard your phone ringing.”

Goose bumps rose on my arms. “Through the rain, across the yard and through walls, you heard my phone?”

“It’s a loud ring.”

I paused. “Yeah, I guess it is.” Shit, that wasn’t normal. I couldn’t even hear it sometimes if I left the phone downstairs!

“Anyway, I looked out the window and saw you running. I went to help.” He motioned down the hall toward the living room. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll go start drying these.”

There were lots of things I wanted to ask Eramus, but I didn’t know where to start. Was the werewolf after me or had it followed him here? I had just pulled the robe over my crossed legs so that I wasn’t flashing when he came back in the room. I decided that a direct approach might be best.

“Eramus, is the werewolf after you?”

His expression gave nothing away. If I had to guess, I’d say he was schooling his features on purpose. “Maybe.”

I gasped. “What do you mean maybe?”

He walked into the kitchen and I followed him. Walking in his robe was no easy task. I finally pulled it up to ankle level so that I could move freely. I felt like one of those southern belles in an old movie, trying not to trip over a ridiculously frilly dress. Eramus paused so that I could catch up, but he still hadn’t answered my question.

“Well?” I said more softly.

“I mean that it’s a possibility he’s looking for me.”

“I’m sorry if this is none of my business, but considering I just got chased by that monster, I think I have the right to ask. What did you do before you came here? Why would a werewolf be hunting you?”

He was quiet for several minutes and I watched as he moved over to the stove and turned on the burner beneath a copper teapot.

“Because of what I am,” he said softly. “And what I used to be.”

Even though my mind was churning with questions, I could tell that what Eramus had just said was significant. It was also damn hard for him, judging by his pained expression. He acted like he was speaking of a loved one who’d died. After waiting as long as I thought I could I finally asked, “What did you used to be?”

“A bounty hunter.” His reply was soft, almost a whisper.

I took in his appearance once more and began to see his muscles as much more than decoration. For the first time his size seemed imposing. I could easily imagine him standing toe-to-toe with a werewolf, even in his silk robe. He ran a hand through his still damp hair and appeared to be completely unaware of the effect this gesture had on me. The movement opened his robe, revealing a few beads of rain still clinging to his skin. His pants rode lower than the jeans I was used to seeing him in and I could see the beginning of a tattoo just below the curve of his left hipbone. Everything about him appeared threatening. He could hear phones across the yard, could fight werewolves and win, and was obviously hiding a dark secret of some sort. Why then did I focus on the pain in his eyes? He was just as dangerous as the wolf outside, but instead of running, I wanted to comfort him.

I took a seat at the kitchen table and waited for him to say more. He took down a cup from the cabinet and placed it on the counter beside the teapot before going further.

“I specialized in werewolves. My grandfather, the one whose name I inherited, passed down the trade to me, along with a lot of his clientele.”

I wasn’t sure how to react. I suppose I never expected to meet a bounty hunter, much less one who hunted werewolves.

“What kind of jobs did you do exactly?”

He shrugged and turned back toward the counter. I watched as he placed some herbs into a tea strainer and lowered the small metal cage into his teacup.

“Say someone skipped bail, or missed a court appearance, that’s something a bounty hunter might typically handle. But if the person in question is infected with lycanthropy, not many hunters are going to be chomping at the bit to take the job. That’s where I come in.” He sighed and turned back to face me. The look in his eyes made me lean back.

“That’s not all I did. If someone wanted a werewolf, or any were-creature for that matter, tracked down I did it. I didn’t ask questions. A lot of people died because of me…some of them by my own hand. When your friend said I had a famous name, he was right. My grandfather was one of the best.” He hesitated before adding, “And so was I.”

“Was? You mean your grandfather passed away?”

“Retired,” he corrected. “And so have I.”

As I thought over what he’d just said, one statement stood out as stranger than the rest.

“You said were-creatures. You mean there’s more than one kind?”

He laughed, but not like he was really amused. “Of course. Werewolves are just the most common. So, what possessed you to go out in a storm after you’d already seen a werewolf the night before?”

I wasn’t entirely prepared for a change in subject. It took me a minute to respond and when I did I felt like my reasons were stupid.

“My cell phone wasn’t cheap, and I left it outside.”

“Let me see it,” he said, holding out his hand.

Until then I hadn’t realized my phone was sitting on the table between us. I must have put it down when he first ushered me inside. I handed Eramus the phone and watched as he removed the battery and carefully wiped down every surface.

“I think it’ll live, but you should let it dry here overnight.”

“Overnight? You mean leave my phone here?”

He laughed again, but this time there was genuine mirth in his voice.

“I mean leave you here too. There’s no way I’m letting you go back outside with another storm coming and at least one werewolf waiting for you.”

I swallowed hard. “You think he’s waiting for me?”

The teapot whistled and I jumped all over. Eramus was kind enough not to tease me. Instead he motioned for me to follow him down the hall after setting the steaming kettle aside. He led me up the stairs and for a moment I thought we were going to the master bedroom. I could see a massive bed through the partially open door. The comforter was red and looked to be draped in animal skins. I had only one guess as to what type of skins they were. My heart hammered against my ribs like crazy. What was he doing? If he was taking me to his bedroom, what should I do?

But that’s not where we were going. He turned in the opposite direction. When he finally stopped, we were standing in front of a window at the end of the hall. Eramus put his arm around me and pulled me close. This did nothing to calm my runaway heart. I don’t think I could have been more nervous if we were in his bedroom. My body was pressed against his bare chest and his skin burned mine even through the borrowed robe I wore. He leaned closer, close enough to kiss before whispering against my lips, “See for yourself.”

Then he pulled back the curtain and turned his gaze toward the yard below. In my yard I saw what was unmistakably a werewolf—and he was pacing. He wasn’t exactly what I’d expected and yet he was frightening beyond my imagination. His head was wolflike and huge, but his upper body was that of a man down to the thighs. His feet were enormous and part of me wanted to examine his footprints in the mud once they’d dried. The rest of me never wanted to go outside again.

“Why is he on all fours like that? I thought werewolves walked upright.”

It was probably a strange thing to say, but all I could think of at the moment. It wasn’t like this stuff happened to me every day.

“Only the most powerful walk upright. This one will be fully changed within the hour. He’s strong, but not alpha.”

I wanted to ask how he could tell such things, but didn’t. I probably didn’t want to know.

“What do you mean, fully changed? He looks like a werewolf to me.”