The Wild Side: Urban Fantasy with an Erotic Edge (7 page)

Armando obliged, using all the power of his standing position to fill her tight, wet tunnel. He opened her wider still, digging hard into her muscles to hold her in place against him.

Liz tried to wait, she really did, but it was time, and if he came along with her, so much the sweeter. She grabbed his forearms and before he realized what was going on, she went rigid against him, screaming out her pleasure. He watched in amazement as she flushed from face to breast. He pulled back, then thrust again—and she came again, still panting hard.

He was beyond reason now and lifted her off the bed entirely, forcing all her weight down on him and came along with her third, howling with the intensity of it.

Liz held onto his neck, staring up at him, afraid he might drop her as he relaxed after coming. He returned to this world and opened his eyes. He grinned like a fool.

They both started to giggle. The giggle turned to a belly laugh, and they collapsed onto the bed.

* * *

“Damn,” Liz said. “Why did I wait so long to ask you out?” She sighed happily as they lay back under the covers, resting up for round two, she hoped.

“Hey, I asked you out,” he protested. “Why did it take you so long to reveal your true colors? You’ve worked for us for six months, and last week was the first time I could even tell you had a female shape.”

“Yeah, I tend to wear stuff left over from my chubbier time during the day. I just didn’t see a need to invest in a new wardrobe for this part-time job,” she replied, “and I didn’t want to distract from the business focus on the clients, not me.”

“Well, now that I know what’s really under all that wrapping, I would like it if you’d keep yourself under cover to keep the hoi polloi away,” he said. “Hmm, or maybe we should dress you up to attract more clients.”

“Not in this town, where youth and beauty are part of the holy trinity with money. When I walk around during the day, I swear I could shoplift for all that anyone sees me. And at night, it’s even worse,” she complained.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I noticed it when I came out of my mourning for Sam. Other things had happened to me during that period, too, like the big down-shift in hormones and the changes that accompany that. Still, the last time I remember being this, well, invisible, was in my early teens,” she said, lost in the emotional memory. “I could go for a walk at night and never fear anyone bothering me. I didn’t question it then. I just assumed it meant I wasn’t worth noticing. And now I feel that way again. But only outside, in the night.”

She paused. “Put me in a casino in a fancy dress though, and I’ll get a few looks. So I work with the light spectrum given to me; visible indoors and not outside.”

“I can’t imagine not seeing you,” he said. “And your scent and fragrance are quite potent.”

She punched him lightly in the arm. “Hey, are you saying I need a bath?” She giggled.

“No, not at all. When I was waiting for you to arrive at the restaurant, I kept remembering your scent,” he said, nuzzling her neck to emphasize his point.

“See! Even you didn’t see me standing there, did you?” she said.

“What? I was there ahead of you, right?”

“No. I wasn’t kidding when I said I beat you there. I watched you for at least two minutes before I stepped out of the shadow and touched your arm. I was about six feet from you the whole time.” She smiled sadly. “See what I mean? In the night I’m invisible even when you’re looking for me.

“Hey, wait a minute here,” she said and flipped back the covers. There were no scratches on his chest.

She froze as two images merged in her mind.

She propped herself up and leaned over him. “You’ve healed completely. How is that possible?”

He shrugged. “I’ve always healed quickly.”

She didn’t buy it. “Wait here.” She dashed out of the room and returned less than a minute later with a plain paper print of a photo.

“How do you explain this?” she asked, handing him the thermographic shot she had taken some nights ago. Careless of her nakedness, she sat next to him on the bed as he studied the paper.

“I was out working on my study of the new construction behind the studio when I saw two guys face off. When I realized it was you, I snapped some pictures, but only this one from the thermographic camera came out.”

Liz watched his reaction and knew he was searching for a palatable lie. She reached to touch him, and his hand was cold, a sure reaction of fear. But why would he fear her?

“Armando, I can see you’re formulating a story to throw me off. Please don’t do that,” she said, stroking his cool fingertips.

“How much do you know about thermographic images?”

“Just tell me what this means,” she said. “I’ve never seen a person so totally saturated with heat.”

“And from that your conclusion is . . . ?”

“My first reaction was that you two were so angry at one another that you raised your total body temperature, but that can’t be the whole answer. Just tell me,” she said, her irritation growing.

Armando stared at the photo to avoid her eyes.

“What did you hear of our conversation?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m horrible at remembering words,” she said. “But I’m sure he was threatening you, and you said,” she paused, “you said something about being the law. Hey, are you an undercover cop?”

He sighed. “I’m a probation officer for some special cases and, uh, gangs,” he said.

Liz narrowed her eyes and stared at him, trying to figure the magnitude of the lie.

“No, that’s not right,” she said sarcastically, “not right at all.” She jerked back from him and stormed across the room. She planted her feet and stared him down. “The truth, please. Now.”

She watched him and saw him decide.

“Well, you’re invisible at night and I’m a shape shifter,” he said, studying her face.

“So you’re a werewolf? Damn, I knew all my late-night reading would come in handy one day.” She laughed loudly as she bounced back onto the bed. It hurt that he wasn’t going to answer her truthfully.

“No, no, I’m not a werewolf. I’m the Portal Guardian for the various packs because I’m not in their packs. I’m too different,” he replied with some formality. “But if you weren’t prepared to believe me, then why did you ask the question?” Some anger showed in his tone.

Liz realized her inane reaction wasn’t helping. She took a deep breath and regained control. She took a few more deep breaths, letting the new information circulate in her imagination. Armando was studying her, and though she liked it when his eyes drifted to her breasts, something else held his gaze.

The animals. She suddenly remembered the animals that had raced past her.

“So that’s why a cougar and a wolf ran right in front of me in the parking lot?” she said. “At least I can lay to rest my worries of hallucinations.” She collapsed on the bed, her head next to his, and stared at the ceiling.

“If you were there, that close, how come I didn’t see you?” He leaned up on his elbow to examine her reaction.

“I think you were too preoccupied with that thug.”

“Liz, aren’t you afraid to be out taking pictures at night? Las Vegas, especially back from the Strip, is not the safest place to wander after dark.”

Liz did the long-distance stare before she turned to meet his eyes.

“It’s like I told you,” she said. “I’m always comfortable in the dark. Just the other day, I was thinking about how I used to sneak out of my house late at night when I was a teenager. I could walk anywhere, and as long as I stayed quiet, no one bothered me . . . ever. For safety I carry my pistol, the one Sam trained me to shoot, but I’ve never needed it.”

Armando kept staring at her.

It made her edgy.

She deflected his next question with one of her own. “How are you different from the packs? You’ve come this far; tell me the whole story.” She softened the request by rolling to him and stroking his back. She was equal parts curious and, despite everything he’d said, ready to fuck again.

He paused, enjoying her caresses, then sighed. “You won’t believe me, but here goes,” he said finally.

“A Sioux shaman turned me about a hundred years ago as part of my initiation ceremony. My dream self was a cougar, and in my soul journey, I was a cougar. What I didn’t know was what my father kept hidden from me: He was a werewolf. He came to America to escape a death sentence from one of the Austrian packs for turning someone without permission. Away from the influence of the others, he was able to pass as human. He married a human and had children. Something in the shaman’s magic screwed up all that. Now I change to cougar each month. I can also change to my father’s form, but it takes planning and meditation, or extreme provocation.”

Liz watched him in slack-jawed amazement. Her eyes darted over his features, looking for all the usual tells of the lie, the story made up to entertain or confuse.

But the truth was in his voice. She could hear the frustration, bitterness, and sadness in his confession. He must always feel alone, a fate all the more so damning for being at least in part a pack animal. Not sure whether she should offer comfort or distraction, or if she should run away, she lay still. How much
strange
could she accept in one night?

“I promised you a hot tub,” she finally said, “and I could use it now myself. Let’s go.” She paused and arched a wiseass smile at him. “Do cougars like to get wet?”

He didn’t answer her, but after a moment he followed her, naked, into the night.

* * *

Liz stepped back into the house to grab robes and towels, while Armando opened the hot tub and moved aside its lid. As she approached the open door of the patio off her bedroom, she stopped cold. A rather large wolf, cast in silhouette, crouched on the low roof of the shed.

Armando was setting the lid on the grass and seemed unaware of the intruder, but he spun suddenly when the wolf jumped into the courtyard. It changed to human form in midflight, and landed, naked, on two feet.

“Damn it to hell, Armando, why are you with a human like this?” the intruder said. “How can you expect respect from any pack anywhere if you can’t keep away from the humans? Every time you veer away from our rules, you know you get further from being allowed to join a pack.”

“Your pack doesn’t belong here, Georg, so you matter not to me,” he replied, stepping closer to the man form.

Distracted by his body, it took Liz a moment to recognize the powerful threat rolling off this guy. She dropped the towels quietly and padded over to her dresser. She slowly pulled the pistol from its holster in the bottom drawer.

She stood in the doorway, quiet and ready to move. For no good reason, she believed Armando could handle himself, but a little backup couldn’t hurt.

“I told your punks to tell you to leave town. Didn’t they give you the message?” Armando said.

Liz appreciated that he was steering the conversation away from her.

“Yeah, they told me, and I took them down for failing to deliver my message,” Georg snarled. “I’m taking over this region, and your lame coalition of packs needs to just get over it.”

“Look, if we changed pack structure every time some lame-ass traveling troupe from Europe came through this town, we’d have moon-rage every month,” Armando explained, clearly exasperated. “Just pack up and move on.” With apparent disdain, he turned his back on the man.

Liz was surprised at his move and clutched the pistol. She released the safety.

Georg turned at the metallic snap and stared into the house.

“You think your human play-pet will keep you safe?” Georg said, keeping an eye on the doorway. “You keep polluting the pack with them, and they let you get away with it for reasons beyond my comprehension. That’s why this region needs me. You forget the old ways, the important lessons we all must heed.”

Liz kept to the shadow but did not drop her aim.

“Georg, just leave it,” Armando sighed, clearly trying to sound placating and lower the tension. “I’ve already spoken to the council, but I couldn’t endorse you. Your old-world style won’t play here in Vegas. I mean really, letting your pups run through the city at night? What kind of leadership is that in a town flush with security cameras every hundred yards or so. You haven’t adapted, have you?”

Stiff with pride, Georg said, “We have survived, have we not? What better proof of our ways than that?”

“Then why do they keep sending you out of Europe? Could it be that your lack of adjusting isn’t safe in a crowded continent,” Armando countered. “But enough. Pack up your troupe, and leave us alone. When your show closes, I want you all gone.”

“This isn’t over, not at all. But I leave you to your human,” Georg said. And in a blink, he was wolf again. In one bound, he was back on the roof and gone.

Liz shook herself: She was sure the immediate danger had passed, and now she needed to stop ogling the lovely, naked man in her garden.

Liz stepped out into the atrium, her pistol down, safety back on.

“I watched the whole thing, from a wolf jumping off my shed to two very naked men talking. Do you have any idea how weird that is in our culture, two straight guys who can hold a comfortable conversation in the buff?” she babbled.

“You are one unusual woman, Ms. Liz,” he laughed with relief. “You see a transformation and focus on the nudity. Wow!” He paused to stroke her shoulder and calm her shivers. “Why couldn’t either of us see you?”

She shrugged. “I told you; it’s the night.”

She glanced out into the garden. “The big, bad wolf is gone. I really need to soak—with you—in the hot tub. Will you join me?”

Armando picked up the forgotten towels and took her hand.

With the warm, bubbling water relaxing her, Armando pulled her into the cradle of his lap, his arms holding her, offering comfort.

“So here we sit, a shape shifter and the invisible woman,” he said. She turned her head to look him in the face and laughed out loud.

“Yes, I guess that sums up the discovery,” she said with a shiver. “But you left out the really worrying part: There’s some kind of trouble brewing.” She paused and stared at him. “I’m clearly part of it now, so I want to help.”