Wolf Frenzy (9 page)

Not that it matters.  I’ve killed before.

“I-I think so,” she muttered, looking down at the ground.  She looked like a runaway, and spoke with the self-deprecating manner of the homeless.  Donovan snorted inwardly.  Just great.

“Did you see where the dog went?” she asked doubtfully.  “He saved me.”  At the same time, her gaze kept flicking to him as if she was scared of looking too long and attracting his attention.  The presence of a billionaire did that to people sometimes.

“No, I didn’t,” he answered cautiously. 

“It was standing right where you were.  I didn’t see it run away…”

“And what would you do if you had?” he asked, growing frustrated.  “Run after it?  Get into more trouble?  Lady, it was me.  And if you call me a dog one more time, I’ll bite you to show you how much of a
dog
I’m not.”

She cringed away from his anger.  “It was you?”  Her voice said she already knew.  She trembled in the chilled air as the temperature plummeted with the rise of the icy moon.  She smelled like fear and sweat, like exhaustion.  She smelled like the rabbits on his ranch he chased out of boredom:  frantic, but too drained to sustain the panic any longer.  He stiffened slightly with surprise at the sudden revelation.  Something had been chasing this woman for a long time before she ended up here.

His heart thawed slightly, and he let his shoulders slump.  “Yeah, it was me.”

“You’re a…”

“A werewolf.  Yes.”

She gasped wetly, eyes glistening now.  His heart gave a wry twist.  “Oh, God.”

“No, a werewolf.”  He flashed a quick grin.  She didn’t notice and he sighed, letting it drop.  “Anyway, this is really serious.  I can’t have anyone knowing my secrets.”  And this was what he got for straying so far from home.  Typical fate, cruel as ever.  “You have to come with me.”

Her interest sharpened visibly, the knife-edge of fear sharpening, too.  “To your ranch?” 
Are you going to kill me,
the question implied.

“You’re not in danger, anymore,” Donovan said quietly.  “I promise.  But now I have to figure something out.”  He certainly wasn’t going to set her loose upon the world with his only secret in the entire world.  As a celebrity with his entire life on camera, his every action dissected and judged on every choice, he wouldn’t last a second once reporters got wind of this.  As with everything else he did, it wouldn’t be small.  There would be scientists, occultists, government officials,
enemies
, crawling all around his fences; and this young woman had nothing to lose, he felt, and everything to gain by being the one to break his story.

“What’s your name?”

“Kori,” she whispered, and turned her face away in that painfully shy, awkward manner.  Against his will, his heart twisted again.  He stood and held out his hand to help her up.  “Well, Kori, you’re about to get an opportunity nearly every woman in this country wants.  Consider yourself lucky.”

Kori took his hand, setting her fingers very daintily in his palm.  Careful to mind his own strength, he pulled her to her feet and then reached into his pocket for his cell phone to call backup for an emergency lift.

She tugged on his thumb just as the ringing began.  “Are you really…?”

He just nodded, although he wished like hell he could have lied.  This was going to end very badly, he was sure of it.

He can’t be serious?

Except he was, and she wasn’t sure exactly how much that scared her, only that it was quite a lot.  Regular celebrities made the news every day; Donovan was an hourly case, always making very loud, brash statements, or risky moves.  No matter where he went, the man oozed a disgusting amount of self-confidence, like he thought he was immune to everything that might hurt him.

And now he claimed to be a werewolf.  Of course, she hadn’t seen the dog run off even when she’d been looking right at it, but that didn’t prove anything.  This was all a huge publicity stunt and here she was caught up in the middle of it, trying to deal with his arrogant don’t-worry-your-womanly-head-about-it attitude while cameras captured and broadcast every intimate detail.

Jason would be able to find her.  The whole country could find her all at once.  And she couldn’t do anything about it, sitting very uncomfortably in the back of an enormous armored truck with Donovan’s eyes boring into her soul.  The overhead light glanced across that sharp gaze like moonlight across the wolf’s face as it stood over her before.  There was no mistaking the similarities between them, or the strong shape of the muzzle reflected in his powerful jaw.  Even his hair, sprinkled with salt at the temples and slicked back, had the same texture as the anger-spiked scruff of fur standing up from the back of the canine’s neck.

They were one and the same.

Donovan looked at her out of the corner of his eye, a quick flicking glance.  She looked down at her hands, at her round palms and soft fingers, and winced inwardly; this man was used to nothing but the best in all aspects of his life, from his house and car collection right down to the most intimate details of the women he slept with.  Slender, elegant women who knew how to act desirable instead of awkward, with rings on their thin fingers and gold jewelry all over the place.  Now, she didn’t have even a single earring to her name.

“So,” he said, his voice a low growl beneath the louder thrum of the engine, “this is a six hour drive.”

She nodded.  She might not have known exactly how long, but she knew he didn’t live anywhere close to a major town of any kind. 

“What do you suggest we do for six hours?”  He raised his eyebrows at her.  Disgusted, Kori turned her head away.  “Hey!”  He sounded offended.  “I was going to suggest talking but damn, have it your way.”

“And what would
you
want to talk about, Mr. Werewolf?” she snapped back.  Deep down in the pit of her stomach, she felt she should be afraid of the strength and speed of the monster he could become, but she didn’t care anymore.  Trapped in this hulking luxury death trap with lonely desert wind blowing streams of sand past the windows, real leather interior sticking to her wherever she touched, she couldn’t find it in herself to care.  She had nothing to lose.

And now he looked offended, too.  “You could let me explain.”

“Explain why you’re kidnapping me, you mean.”

“Look, lady…”  He shook his head abruptly, hair perfect and still even through vigorous motion.  He tapped his fingers on the arm rest.  “Kori.”  The driver in the front seat looked up at them through the rearview mirror, eyes hidden behind thin sunglasses, at her name being spoken.  Kori felt more afraid of that expressionless mask than she did of Donovan. 

“This is my life.  Don’t you think I need to have some say in what happens in my life?”

You
always
get a say,” she pointed out irritably.  “You’re Donovan Kane.  You walk by and drop some money and people will sell you their souls.  In fact, whenever you get a say –which is every hour or something, it feels like- half the country changes their opinion.  Everyone wishes they could be you.  And you want a say?  What about my say?”

Her voice rose, until she was shouting.  Her bangs fell across her face and she cringed back behind them even while yelling, hiding instinctively from him. 

“You’re right,” he said, very quietly.  So quietly she barely heard him, with his face turned towards his window.  “This isn’t a good place to talk.  And we both need some sleep.”

He fiddled with a dial on the ceiling and warmth began to pump steadily through the vents.  “Go to sleep, Kori.  We might as well wait.”

“How do I know you won’t do anything to me?”

Suddenly, the driver spoke.  His voice was mellow, with the slightest trace of a French accent.  “Ma’am, I don’t work for him.  He just hires my services.  If either of you tries something, I intervene no matter what.”

She still hesitated but honestly, this situation might just be considered an improvement over being left for dead in an alleyway.  How she would handle any of this, and what would become of her now, were two things she still didn’t know.  Still, she leaned her head against her own window to feel the comforting vibration of tire passing slick and easy over crumbling country road; there was no way she was going to sleep, not with the memories of Donovan’s huge paws and snarling jowls.  At least that was what she told herself, but she almost immediately began to drift away and it was with the image of his earnest brown wolf gaze, amber with streetlight, as he turned away from the fleeing attackers. 

For some incomprehensible reason, she couldn’t reconcile that simple concern with any sort of malice.  So she slept.

And woke hours later to pale dawn light filtering through the blinds, slanting through the room right into her eyes.  Groaning, she turned her face away and reached out across the sheets to search for Jason’s slim warmth, flannel comfortable and heavy beneath her wandering fingertips.  Maybe, just maybe he would pull her into his arms for a rare cuddle until his alarm went off for work; she would tell him about her crazy dream, and if he didn’t call her names for being such a stereotypical white girl she might even get up while he was in the shower and make him breakfast.  Blood orange juice straight from the juicer, pancakes or maybe waffles if she could find the waffle iron…

Gentle fingers enveloped hers, two large callused hands holding hers between them. 

That’s not right,
she thought sleepily.  Jason took care of his pretty hands, like all aspiring surgeons did.  That was probably the only reason he never hit her.  In any case, something was off.

“Jason?” she said, opening her eyes.

Not my room.

The walls were pale, inoffensive beige with an undertone of creamy gold.  Light, turquoise accents took some of the edge away from the brassiness of the metallic shade, leaving the little room sophisticated without being too sassy.  A cream dresser stood near a curtained closet, while polka dots of deeper, more mature gold lend a wandering path across the walls from shelf to door to nightstand.  For some reason the window had no curtains, and the blinds were tilted slightly; she saw grey smudges beyond, lightening towards coral and orange as sunlight filtered over the horizon. 

The man sitting cross-legged on the other side of the bed gave her a half-hearted grin, still holding her hand ensnared between his.  In daylight, with body oil glistening along the supple bulge of tan muscle in his arms and legs, she wondered with quite a bit of horror how she ever managed to say a word around him –much less bite his face off, as she essentially did. 

“Sorry.  Just me.”  He tilted his head.  “Who’s Jason?”   

Kori tried to pull her hand away but he held onto it.  Frightened now, she drew back as far as she could anyway.  “Where am I?” she choked out.

“My house.”  Donovan shrugged.  “You were out cold so I had my spooky carry you inside.  Sorry if blue isn’t your thing.  You just didn’t strike me as a pink type of girl.”

Kori stared blankly.  A dozen questions raced through her mind with one at the forefront.  “You have a pink room?”

He shrugged again.  “I have a lot of things I don’t need.”

That was the most truth she’d gotten out of him yet.  “Okay….and a spooky…is…?”

“The driver.  Sorry.”  He finally released her hand.  She sat up and wiggled on her butt all the way back to the very edge to put as much space between them as possible.  “Anyway, I thought I’d let you sleep in a little.  It looked like you needed it.”

“Dawn is sleeping in?”

“It is when you start at sunset.”

Awkward silence fell between them.  She studied her fingers, not knowing what else to do. 

“Hey,” Donovan said.  She lifted her head a little, not enough to look at him but enough to acknowledge him.  “Do you like horses?  We could go riding.”

Kori shook her head.  No.  She wasn’t in this situation to ride horses with a billionaire.  “Can we please just get things sorted out?”

“Alright.”  Donovan tapped his knee.  “Who goes first?”

You bought a private jet so you wouldn’t have to wait in line but you’re giving me a choice to go first?  I don’t understand you.

She opened her mouth to tell him to just start talking, but an entirely different set of words fell from her lips.  Plucking at her shirt, she spoke quietly about Jason and the rapid decline of their relationship, the game he played with the entire country as he had every person who ever watched the news fawning over how wonderful and doting a boyfriend he was.  The secrets came faster and faster, a smattering of superficial mixed in with the deepest barbs which still made her flinch just to think about.  She couldn’t tell him some things, such as how she came to be her size over the course of years, or how all the friends clamoring to miss her the most on national television were mere acquintances she barely got to see because of how Jason had their lives planned out perfectly –for him.

The light in the room strengthened and leveled out as she spoke.  The sun finally crested the horizon, banishing the shadows of twilight.  Sand and stone spread out as far as she could see, sparse waves of grey-green scrub brush swelling up to rocky crests.  Timid lilac flowers sprouted here and there between cracks in the sunbaked earth.  How she wished she could feel that warmth now, but her soul felt so cold.

And then warmth did close around her in the form of a broad chest barely concealed beneath a tight t-shirt, strong arms wrapping around her shoulders to draw her in.  Surprise and terror stiffened her spine.  She placed her hands against Donovan and shoved hard at him.  He only touched the back of her hair very lightly, so tenderly tears sprang to her eyes.

His lips brushed the top of her head.  Impossibly gentle, a tender gesture she never knew before this moment right now.  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, and then gave another kiss.  “I didn’t know.”

No, you didn’t
, she wanted to accuse him.  Bitter hurt rose in the back of her throat.  Shaking, she swallowed hard and turned her face towards his neck.  “I won’t tell anyone about you,” she whispered.  Tremors shook her voice.  “I don’t want attention.  I don’t want to be found.  I don’t want him to find me.”