Kissin' In The Moonlight

Kissin’ In The Moonlight By

Beverly Rae

Triskelion Publishing www.triskelionpublishing.net

Triskelion Publishing 15327 W. Becker Lane Surprise, AZ 85379 Copyright © 2006 Beverly Rae All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information retrieval and storage system without permission of the publisher except, where permitted by law. ISBN 1-933874-76-7 Publisher’s Note. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination.Any resemblance to a person or persons, living or dead, business establishments, events

Dedication To my special “animal” of a husband, who always supports me no matter how “wild” I get. Thanks to Kristi Studts, Gail Northman, and Terey Ramin of Triskelion Publishing for saying “yes” to my first ebook, Love Times Seven, thus opening the floodgate for the rest, including my first book in both ebook and in print, Dancin’ in the Moonlight. Thanks, also, to Linda Wisdom for her insight and input.

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Beverly Rae

Prologue “The Still Sexy Ladies Guide to Dating Immortals. Hmm.” Sydney Skeller wiped the dust from the battered book and placed it on her lap. “Why would anyone throw away a book with such an interesting title?” But then, she couldn’t understand why anyone would ever throw away a book. Books were precious objects to be cherished, and read time and time again. When she’d seen the battered and shabby book lying on top of a Dumpster behind the school where she taught fourth grade, she’d snatched it up and brought it home to her apartment already bursting at the seams with stacks of books. “Let’s see. Looks like some interesting chapters in here. Dating the Demanding Demon. Enjoying Your Dragon’s Heat Without Getting Burned.” She paused to close the book and reexamine the cover. “I wonder who wrote this.” She couldn’t find an author’s name listed; not even the name of the publishing house. “That’s weird. Who writes a book and doesn’t put their name on it? And even stranger, what publishing company would publish a book and not put their information on the inside pages?” She reflected on the title again. “The Still Sexy Ladies Guide to Dating Immortals. Yep, a very cool title.” Slowly, lovingly, she ran her fingers over the intricate lettering. Brushing her hand over the embossed lettering, she sucked in air and cringed as golden flakes flew off the book to float gently to the floor. “Oh, crap. Careful, Syd.” She slid both hands under the inchthick book, determined to take more care with it. “I wonder if the author believes immortals are real.” As she held the treasure in her hands, Syd tilted the book at different angles and craned her neck to study every side as if she could find a clue to the mysterious author by examining the texture, weight, and size of the book. “Nah. Besides, even though I know werewolves exist, I’ve never heard of anyone actually seeing a real dragon, or a leprechaun, or any preternatural creature. This has got to be a work of fiction. Interesting fiction, but fiction nonetheless. What other explanation could exist?” Opening the book again, she continued to scan the content listing until her eyes landed on a chapter that took her breath away. “Oh, crap. Here’s a chapter on summoning and dating a werewolf.” Could the book be for real? If the author knew about shifters, maybe the author was right about the existence of other immortals? After all, how many people did she know who’d seen a werewolf? Even if she hadn’t seen one, she knew they were real. Her father could attest to that. A tingle zipped through her at all the exciting possibilities. “Holey, moley. Skeller would freak if he saw this.” “Are you talking about me?” Syd’s head jerked up at the sound of her father’s gruff voice. “Skeller?” Why did she sometimes use his last name instead of calling him “Dad”? Almost as if her use of his last name showed the lack of connection between them. Although his boxy bulk leaned against the frame of her front door in an obvious show of nonchalant indifference, she knew he wasn’t happy. In fact, she could tell he was downright mad. In one swift motion, she closed the book, placed it behind her on the sofa

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slipping it part of the way under a pillow, and faced her father with her “I’m the best daughter in the world” smile. Yet what she needed was a diversion. “Nothing, Dad. What are you doing here?” Besides snooping on me. She walked over to him—and away from the book—to peck a kiss on his cheek. As usual, his body odor was atrocious and she held her breath as she hurried away from him. “Dad, did you forget to shower again?” “Look, little girl, I don’t need any lessons from you on how to take care of myself. Especially since you can’t keep your own front door locked. You’re just asking for some lowlife to waltz in and rob you. Or worse.” Skeller chewed his tobacco and started to spit out a wad. “No! Don’t spit that awful stuff out in here. And as far as leaving my door unlocked, most people don’t barge into an apartment without knocking.” Why was her father so different from her? She was clean and neat while he was a walking billboard for bad manners and once-a-year bathing. In fact, sometimes she couldn’t understand how they could be related at all. “And furthermore, a bath would do you good. Not to mention how the rest of the world would appreciate it.” She scanned his rumpled, soiled clothes. “Mom said she’d do your laundry whenever you wanted. All you have to do is give her your clothes. It’s good to change into a fresh pair of pants and shirt each morning. After a morning shower with soap. And I don’t want to even think about your underwear.” “You don’t have to worry about my underwear because I go with—” “No! Don’t say anything else.” Fighting the image his statement evoked in her mind, she raised both hands and shook her head. “Aw, hell, Dad. Gross.” Her father grumbled a few choice words, but kept the large wad of tobacco in his mouth as he ignored her comments. Instead, he changed the subject to the only topic that ever mattered to him. “You’re coming to the meeting tonight, right?” His words were more of a command than a question. Syd scowled, trying to match her father’s irritated expression. “Do I have to? You know I don’t want to hunt werewolves. Besides, I’d planned on working out with my friends tonight.” She’d rather do anything than go on a shifter hunt. Including sweating on a damn treadmill. “Sydney, you’re my daughter and, as my only child, you have the family reputation to uphold. My father was a hunter, I’m a hunter, and you’re a hunter, whether or not you know it right now. It’s what we do and who we are. You need to give up that teaching foolishness. Living up to your responsibility as a hunter is more important than blowing the noses of those snotty brats.” She tossed her head defiantly, placed her feet apart, and got ready to stand up to her father. “Hunting doesn’t pay the rent and, thankfully, teaching does. And don’t insult either me or my kids. You’re the one who needs someone to blow your nose. And brush your hair and all those other things you were supposed to have learned to do as a child. Maybe if you’d had a good teacher you’d have learned all those things.” Come on, Skeller, get a clue. His eyes narrowed as he straightened up to his full five-foot-five-inch height, but she wouldn’t back down, no matter how his stare managed to strip away her adulthood, making her an intimidated nine-year-old again. “And you may as well get this through your thick head. I’m not going to hunt. Unlike you, I don’t have an inner need to kill shifters. In fact, I kind of—” She clamped her mouth closed before the betraying words could escape her

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mouth. If her father ever found out about her attraction to werewolves, he’d skin her alive. Literally. No matter how she tried to stop, her fascination with man-turned-beast had grown stronger since she’d blossomed into puberty. Since then she’d had nightly dreams of a werewolf; his thick fur a midnight black with a white shock of fur running alongside his jaw. She’d trembled, not in fright, but drenched in desire, when his dark, tempting eyes transformed into mesmerizing amber ones. “You kind of what?” Syd cleared her throat before she could answer. “Nothing. Just let me live my own life as a normal person in the regular world.” Her father moved closer to her, forcing her to take a step backwards. “We make a difference in the world so those so-called normal people can sleep easy at night. We’re better than normal people.” “So you’re saying we’re not normal? We’re abnormal?” She grinned, unable to keep a straight face. “We’re special?” Skeller sputtered, trying to cover his mistake. “You know what I mean. We have a duty to rid the world of those vile creatures.” He stalked past her toward the couch. “I don’t understand you. In fact, sometimes I wonder if you’ve got Skeller blood in you at all.” You and me both. She shook her head at the thought. Simply because they rarely agreed or didn’t have much in common didn’t mean she didn’t love the man. After all, he was the only father she’d ever known. Syd saw him glance down at the book peeking out from under the pillow, bend over, and pick it up before her mind registered a response. Crossing over to him as fast as she could, she reached out for the book, but he yanked it out of her reach. “Damn, Dad, be careful. The book’s very old.” “Another book? Books never did any good for anyone, especially hunters.” His glower deepened as he read the title and skimmed the contents. “Immortals? You’re reading a book about summoning an immortal? Like a werewolf? A damned shifter? What’s the matter with you, girl? Don’t you have any common sense in your head?” Syd swallowed, grabbed the book, and tugged it out of his hands as best she could without damaging it. “I haven’t summoned anyone. I thought it was interesting, that’s all. Besides, people can’t really summon an immortal, can they? Do people think they can chant a little, hold a séance and, poof, up pops an immortal? Who would want to do that, anyway?” She made a disgusting sound even as her mind shouted the truth. Me! Me! He didn’t answer, but lunged for the book instead. She hugged the book to her chest, refusing to let him have it again. “I have a right to read whatever I want. You seem to forget I’m an adult woman who doesn’t need your permission for anything I do. So back off, Dad.” He sneered, but made no attempt to take the book away again. “You best get rid of that evil book, girl. Nothing good can come from reading it. You’re poking around with things you shouldn’t mess with.” “So you think the book is for real?” She tightened her grip, determined more than ever not to lose it. “People can summon immortals?” What if it is real? What then? “’Course not. You do as I say. Promise me you’ll get rid of that thing.” Syd met her father’s eyes and saw the fear within them. Guilt washed over her making her say what she didn’t mean. “Okay. I promise.”

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Her father humphed and squinted at her as if trying to decide whether or not to believe her. “You know, Sydney, I could tolerate your reading and teaching better if you’d come with us on a hunt sometime. At least start doing some activities with the group.” She rolled her eyes, knowing it annoyed him, and shook her head. “Why do we have to keep having this same old argument?” Yet when she opened her mouth to go on, the glint in his eyes stopped her cold. What now? “I’ll make you a deal.” He widened his stained-teeth grin, making her uneasy in more ways than one. She knew she shouldn’t ask, but after years of pointless arguing she was ready to try anything. She scrutinized him, suspicious, yet ready to hear his offer. “What kind of a deal?” He thought he had her now. She could see it in his eyes. As he leaned in closer, she held her breath against the stench and waited. “You promise to go on one hunt and I’ll make sure you get the kill. After that, if you say you didn’t enjoy taking one of those wicked creatures out of this world, I’ll leave you be.” “But do I have to actually kill one? Can’t I just go along? You know, for moral support?” She took a mind-clogging gasp of foul air and nearly choked. “Wouldn’t that be enough?” Thankfully, he moved away and she dragged in a deep breath. “Nope. You have to make the kill. Trust me. You kill a shifter and you’ll never want to miss another hunt again. You’re a Skeller and blood will win out. I’m positive.” “What happens if I go on a hunt, but we don’t find any shifters? Will you quit bothering me anyway?” She knew the hunting expeditions often came up empty. If she got lucky, they’d come up empty on her hunt. “Don’t worry about not getting one. We’ll wait until we pick up a shifter scent and make sure you have a target.” Grr-eat. Sydney’s heart thumped in her throat as she ran the image of killing a werewolf through her mind’s eye. Maybe if the shifter was about to hurt someone she could take his life. Or if he looked really dangerous or repulsive like the monsters her father said they were. If she got very lucky, the shifter they tracked down for her to shoot would look like a monster from lowest depths of Hell. Yet, just in case, somehow, some way, she’d find a way to make this bargain work. “Okay. You’ve got a deal.”

8

Beverly Rae

Chapter One “Oh, baby. Come to Mamma.” Simone wiggled her fingers in front of her as her feet pounded on the treadmill. “Hey, Syd, wouldn’t you like to take home one of these boy toys for a little horizontal cardio?” Working on the treadmill next to Simone, Sydney had to push her body to run at half of Simone’s speed while Carmen and Brit easily kept pace with their long-legged friend. Six men jogged on a row of treadmills directly in front of the ladies, providing nice scenery and unwitting subjects for the women’s conversation. Syd cocked her head to the side and studied Simone’s current object of desire. “Yeah, I admit he’s got a nice bod, but what’s he got under all the blond hair? I want something more than just a roll in the sack with a tight ass.” “And what’s wrong with a roll in the sack? Especially with a tight ass?” Carmen grabbed her towel to wipe the sweat from her brow. “I certainly wouldn’t toss any of them out of my bed. I might chain them to it, but I wouldn’t toss them out.” Brit nodded, grinning at Carmen as the words puffed out of her. “Amen to that, sister.” “Sure, they’re good for a hot night’s entertainment. Especially since they’re all in their twenties and at the peak of their sexual stamina. But I thought we wanted men with intelligence and a great sense of humor, not to mention being successful in their jobs. Maybe with their own business. At least I still do.” “Syd’s back to wishing for the perfect man again.” Simone winked at the cutie who glanced back at the women, then thrust out her chest for his benefit. “But I’m telling ya, girls, there ain’t no such animal. Take it from me. I’ve decided to give up the quest for the perfect man. Instead, I’m going to have a stable of young stallions whose only goal in life is to satisfy this slightly older, sexy woman. Just like my friend, Gail, has.” Brit scoffed at her. “Yeah, right. Good luck with that, girlfriend.” Carmen hopped onto the side runner of the treadmill to twist her long, black hair into a ponytail again. “I don’t know if I’m ready to give up. Although the search is getting old. We’ve waited for years, holding on to the hope that the perfect guy is out there. I just wish we could do something about it instead of waiting for our Mr. Perfect to come to us. You know how I hate waiting for what I want. I want him and I want him now.” Brit puffed a strand of blonde hair away from her face. “Agreed. We’re all tired of waiting. But when a woman is our age, attractive, and successful at what she does, a lot of men are intimidated. We’re strong women and that scares them.” Brit punched the control panel, elevating the incline on her machine. Damn show off. Syd glared at Brit, determined to keep going even though the stitch in her side stabbed into her like her grandmother’s sewing needle. If I could just lose twenty pounds, I could keep up with all of them. Even Brit. But those twenty pounds had plagued her for more than five years. “Getting older sucks.”

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Simone’s cackle reverberated above the drone of equipment and the blare of the televisions anchored on the wall in front of the treadmills. “Really, Syd, you sound like you’re ninety. You’re hardly old…” Syd caught the silent accusation in Simone’s tone that added, “just overweight” and bit back her retort. After all, Simone hadn’t said the words out loud. Yet Syd had heard them as clearly as if she had. The annoying burn of embarrassment rolled in her gut, but she did her best to ignore it. “You know what I mean. Brit’s right. We are a formidable combination of good looks, intelligence, and success.” Still, best intentions didn’t always win out. She captured Simone with her stare and pinned her to an invisible wall. “Add a little extra weight on my bones and finding the perfect man is next to impossible.” Simone caught her message and decided to study her treadmill’s control panel. “You’re so right. Finding any good man is hard, but finding the perfect guy? Forget it.” Carmen’s repeated complaint echoed Syd’s opinion perfectly. “Especially if you add a kid to the package. Not that I ever regret having my little Carlos.” “Maybe there is.” Syd’s gaze turned to Brit along with Simone’s and Carmen’s. “Maybe there’s what?” Brit straddled the walking belt and punched the “Off” button. Once the machine had stopped, she faced her friends and lowered her voice. “Maybe there’s a way to get a perfect man.” Her gaze darted around as if she were about to relay top secret information. “Okay, I know this sounds stupid and it’s only a rumor. Which is why I wasn’t going to say anything until Carmen’s griping drove me to it.” “Hey! I wasn’t the only one complaining.” Carmen hit the “Stop” button and moved closer to Brit. Syd and Simone hopped off their treadmills to close ranks around Brit. too. The ladies remained in a small huddle as they moved to stand in the sitting area of the juice bar. Simone, who enjoyed rumors more than any of the others even though she’d never admit it, threw up her hands in frustration. “Well? Spill. What’s the scoop? Who’s screwing who around here?” “You have such a delicate way with words.” Syd laughed when Simone stuck out her tongue. “If you two will stop squabbling, I’ll tell you.” Brit’s blue eyes sparkled in anticipation. “There’s this story running around the gym—” “Is that supposed to be funny? Running around the gym?” “Carmen, quit interrupting so she can get on with it.” Syd nudged Carmen in the arm without ever taking her eyes off Brit. “Anyway, as I was saying, there’s this rumor about these women who found their perfect men. In fact, one of them was the zoo lady, Tala Wilde. You know the one.” “You mean the lady who does the public service announcements for the zoo? The pretty blonde?” Syd could easily picture Tala since she’d once visited the school for an assembly on exotic animals. Tala had offered to give her class a personal tour of the “behind the scenes” areas of the zoo the next time they visited. “That’s her. Anyway, these ladies were like us; same age, attractive, successful, yet without male companionship. Not that they couldn’t get guys. They simply couldn’t find the

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right guy. But all that’s changed. Somehow they’ve found their men and I’m told these men are amazing. In fact, I’ve often heard them described as perfect.” “That’s it? That’s the big rumor? Woo-hoo, big deal.” Simone’s biting tone rankled Syd’s building enthusiasm. “Never mind Si. Go on.” “Yeah, goody for them. But a story about other women getting lucky isn’t much of a rumor. Unless maybe two of the couples are swinging?” Carmen giggled, enjoying her idea of a juicy tidbit. “No, you don’t understand. The point is how they found their perfect men.” Brit paused, as if waiting for the ladies to do more than stare at her. When they didn’t, she continued, “The rumor mill says these ladies summoned their great guys by doing some kind of dance in the moonlight. Someone said they called for immortal men.” Syd’s mouth went dry at Brit’s last words. “Did you say immortal men?” “You mean like mythological gods? Like a real-life Zeus or Apollo? Wow.” Brit nodded, answering Carmen’s question as her tongue snaked out to lick her lips. “Oh, come on. Besides, immortals include more than just gods. Wouldn’t you have to include beings like elves, vampires, witches, and—” “Werewolves.” Syd croaked out the word making Simone’s question sound more like a statement of fact. “I thought you said they called for men. Witches are women like Jeannie or Samantha on television shows. Men aren’t witches.” “Wrong. Men can be witches, too. Male witches. Or maybe they call them wizards. I’m not sure. But Jeannie wasn’t a witch. She was a genie. You know, like in a bottle.” Although she heard her own words clarifying Carmen’s misunderstanding, Syd’s mind raced with other thoughts. Thoughts of shifters. Thoughts of the book. Could those women have read a guidebook? Was there more than one book? For the hundredth time, she wondered if there was a chance the guidebook was factual and not simply fictional fun. Especially since she knew one type of supernatural being did exist. Werewolves. “And they all lived happily ever after.” Simone snorted, unwilling to follow Carmen’s immediate acceptance of the existence of immortals. “What next? Are you going to tell me Prince Charming is alive and well, and searching for Cinderella? Come on, people, let’s recognize a fairy tale when we hear one. Or maybe one of Brit’s practical jokes?” “I’m not joking. Seriously.” Brit crossed her heart. “I swear.” “Hey, don’t take away my dream.” Carmen sighed with a far-away look in her eyes. “Except, of course, in my fantasy Prince Charming is a handsome, hot-blooded Latino.” A flush of uneasiness coursed through Syd. Did she possess the means to summon an immortal? A shifter immortal? Syd’s knees weakened as the information in the guidebook came back to her. Chapter One: Summoning an Immortal. Chapter Ten: Howl if You’re Horny. “Oh, my God.” Her hands locked onto her arms a second after her legs gave out. “Syd, are you okay?” Simone slid her arm around Syd’s waist, pushing Carmen out of the way. “She looks pale.” Brit steadied her on the other side as they led her to a nearby table and onto a chair. “I thought she was pushing too hard on the treadmill.” She tidied a curl of Syd’s hair that had fallen over her eyes. “I hope you know we think you’re fine the way you

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are. A little extra weight looks good on you. It gives you a voluptuous sex appeal. Very Marilyn Monroe-ish.” “Yeah, and Latino men love curves,” offered Carmen. “What you need is a Latin lover.” Even though the dizziness hadn’t fully passed, Syd managed to shoot Brit a withering sneer. “Gee, thanks. I think.” Syd waved the ladies off, allowing them to take seats around the table with her. “I didn’t wear myself out on the treadmill. At least, not the way you’re thinking. Something else made me woozy.” “Oh, shit. You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Brit, Simone, and Syd gaped at Carmen. “What? Like she can’t get pregnant?” Carmen whipped the scrunchie off her ponytail, letting the dark hair cascade around her shoulders. “Quit staring at me like I just added a third boob.” She cupped her breasts and checked them out. “That would be awesome, but not physically possible.” “There’s always elective surgery.” Simone caught the attention of the girl behind the juice bar, coaxing her to act as their waitress. At first the girl refused, but then she glanced at Syd, reconsidered, and nodded. Simone smiled her thanks. “I think Syd could use a cold drink right about now. Anyone else want a fruit smoothie? My treat.” After a chorus of “me’s” rang out, Syd hurried to squash the ridiculous pregnancy theory. “A girl has to have had sex to get knocked up. So unless I have an incredibly long gestation period…like a year and half since that was the last time I got any action…having a baby isn’t my problem.” At least I get one benefit out of my long, dry, sexless spell. No way could I be preggers. “Sheesh, I don’t think even giraffes carry their babies that long.” Again the women gawked at Carmen. “Where do you come up with this stuff?” Simone gave the counter girl their orders and told her to hurry. “Do these weird ideas pop into your head or do you stay awake at night thinking them up?” Although flustered, Carmen managed to stick out her chin. “I don’t think they’re weird. I learned the giraffe thing from one of those public service commercials the zoo lady does. Hey, what happened to talking about immortals?” “Yeah, let’s get back to discussing how we can get a man with a great body and a sharp mind. One who never grows old and dies.” Brit paused to reflect. “Hmm, which means when our bodies are shot to hell, theirs will still rock. But I can live with that if he can. Talk about a May-December romance.” “Oh, wow. I hadn’t thought about him staying young. Super.” Carmen wiggled in her chair, her excitement making her squirm with delight. “You two are amazing. Syd nearly collapses and all you want to talk about a stupid fantasy?” Simone took a cup from the counter girl who’d arrived with all their drinks, and positioned the straw at Syd’s mouth. “Don’t argue.” Knowing she’d fight a losing battle against Simone’s take-charge attitude, Syd took a sip before taking the cup from her friend. “I’m okay. And I can handle my own drink, thank you very much.”

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“Are you feeling better?” Brit took a long drag on her frosty concoction, gasped, and clasped her hand around her throat. “Ow. Talk about a cold burn.” “The treadmill didn’t shake me up.” Remembering Brit’s remark about her weight, she tossed another glare in the pretty blonde’s direction before continuing. “What threw me was this book I found the other day.” “Damn, I know you adore reading, but why would getting a new book make you dizzy? I mean, big deal.” Simone waved her hand in the air as if signaling all the people in the gym. “Send out a news flash, everyone. The teacher found another book.” “Ha, ha. But this one’s different. And when we started talking about the rumor, I couldn’t help but wonder about the coincidence.” Brit swirled her straw around in the plastic container, playing more with her Mango Mash than actually drinking it. “Coincidence how?” Suddenly Syd wished her Kookoo Kiwi contained alcohol instead of pure fruit juice. She could use the added confidence boost a little booze would give her. “A coincidence because I found this book the other day and here we are discussing the story about women calling for their immortal men. The book’s title is The Still Sexy Ladies Guide to Dating Immortals.” She paused and waited for their responses. “No way!” Carmen’s expression fought between a dropped jaw and a wide grin. “You’re shitting us. How cool!” “Of course she’s kidding.” As usual, Simone went in the opposite direction from Carmen. “She’s trying to divert us from worrying about her.” Brit’s face lit up with anticipation. “Really? A book about dating immortals?” She stopped swirling her straw to narrow her eyes at Syd. “I hope you’re telling the truth because finding a book on immortals is incredible. Maybe too incredible.” “Here’s the really incredible part.” Syd waited until she had their undivided attention, even with Simone still scowling. “The first chapter is about how to summon an immortal man.” Simone’s sputter sent a spew of guava juice over the tabletop making Carmen scrape her chair across the tile floor as she tried to dodge the spray. Brit, however, stayed focused on Syd. “Is this a joke? Do you really have this book?” Syd made an “X” across her chest, similar to the sign Brit had made earlier. “Cross my heart and hope to marry an ogre’s ugly brother.” “Did you read it?” Simone, not giving into the excitement of the others, leaned back in her chair; her posture a challenge. “What am I asking? Of course, you’ve already read it. We’re talking about Sydney Skeller, Reader Extraordinaire here. You probably read the entire book in the first hour you got it in your hot, little hands.” “I read enough to make this rumor seem plausible.” Syd paused, rethinking her decision to tell them everything. No, her friends weren’t ready to know about her family. But as for telling them about summoning immortals… Why the hell not? “So tell us what you read. Are you saying you think immortals exist and—” “Mere mortal women like us can summon them?” Syd grinned as an interrupted Brit flicked a drop of her drink at Carmen. Syd took the time her friends’ exchange gave her to prepare her thoughts. She needed to take care breaking the information to them.

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“Will you two grow up?” Simone leaned closer, placing her hand on Syd’s arm. “Go on. You want to tell us something. I can see it in the way you’re chewing on your lip.” Damn. Chewing on her lip was a dead giveaway. Syd closed her mouth, concentrating on the subject at hand to stop the nibbling. “Well…if what I read is true, we can summon our own immortal men.” Surprise registered on her friends’ faces in different ways. Simone snorted, started to speak, and then closed her mouth before any words came out. Brit’s left eyebrow shot up as her eyes grew wide. And as was typical for her, Carmen gave the loudest reaction by hooting and slapping her palms down on the table. Several gym patrons turned toward the ladies, anxious to see the cause of the commotion. Okay, so maybe she could have eased into the information a bit better than she had. But what was done was done. Giving the girls time to recover, she swiveled her chair around to face the curious crowd. “Never mind her. She just got a text message telling her how to enlarge her boyfriend’s penis. Have any of you ever used The Dick Developer? And if you did, do you have before and after pics?” Syd grinned at her joke and made shooing motions for everyone to go back to their own business. “Oh, relax, guys, I’m kidding. Go back to getting buff.” “Hey!” The abrupt twisting of Syd’s chair jolted her as she was whipped around to face Simone. “Sydney, I think you’ve permed your curly red head once too often. Straighten up and get some sense back into your head. Or is there something more than juice in your drink?” Simone took Syd’s drink, sniffed at it, and then raised it above her head to peer into the green liquid. “I wish.” Taking her drink back, Syd took a long sip so she could enjoy her friends’ anticipation. “Don’t stop now! Tell us everything.” Carmen grabbed the other arm of her chair, spinning Syd around to face her. “How? How do we get our men?” “Will you two stop pulling me in opposite directions? I’m getting dizzy again. Besides, you made me spill some of my drink on my new outfit.” “If you don’t tell us what you’re talking about, I’m going to dump my whole drink on your head.” Brit lifted her frothy drink in warning. “Okay, okay. No need for violence. Or wetness.” Syd took a deep breath and dove in. “Like I said, the first chapter deals with summoning an immortal. All the chapters after that deal with dating and having a good relationship with whatever, uh, whomever, you’ve summoned.” Usually the quiet one of the group, Syd was now in charge of the conversation. And liking it a lot. “According to the first chapter, women can use a variety of methods to summon an immortal. One way to call your man is by doing a dance in the moonlight and wishing for him. I think that must be how Tala Wilde got hers.” “Oh, my God. You do. You do believe this stuff.” Simone’s mouth dropped open as she gaped at Syd. “Seriously. You do, don’t you?” “I think so.” Of course, I do. You can’t grow up in a family of hunters and not believe. Er, at least when it comes to werewolves. But she didn’t have the nerve to say so in definite terms. Not yet. Instead, she asked, “Do you want me to go on or not?”

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“Hell, yes!” Carmen’s and Brit’s combined outburst startled a young man walking past them. He jumped, casting them an anxious look before hurrying away toward the counter. “If I remember correctly, you can use a different method for calling specific immortals. Like dancin’ in the moonlight works best for shifters—” “What’s a shifter?” Carmen asked the question that was written on Brit’s face. “A shifter is a werewolf.” “Wow. Cool. I bet a sexy werewolf could make me pant in bed,” joked Brit. “I like the idea of having wild, animal sex.” At the questioning expressions on her friends’ faces, she added, “As long as he’s in human form at the time, of course.” Syd let Brit’s slip pass. “Or sometimes one method will work for all different types. Anyway, one way listed to get a variety of immortals all at once is to have a medium help you call them. You know, someone with powers to contact immortals through telepathy. Or whatever they use.” “Oh, sure. No problem. Let’s dial up John Edwards and see if he’s available.” Simone flipped open her cell phone and pretended to punch buttons. “Hey, Johnny-boy? Simone here. Say listen, my friends and I are thinking about conjuring up some good-looking immortals. You know, like big, hunky werewolves, or dashing debonair vampires? Do you have some spare time tonight to help us out? Great! We’ll hop on our flying carpet and head straight over.” “Don’t be such a downer. What’s the harm in discussing all this?” Carmen’s accent thickened as she challenged her friend. “I happen to believe in mediums, so why not immortals?” “Ignore her. If she doesn’t want to tag along, then no one’s going to make her.” Syd refused to let Simone’s negativity squelch the exhilaration growing inside her. “Tag along where?” “Yeah, like Brit says, tag along where?” Carmen leaned forward in her chair, getting closer to Syd. “Oh, my God. You know where we can find a medium, don’t you?” “Maybe I do. And maybe I don’t.” Could she admit what she’d already done? Would her friends rib her for searching for a medium in the phone book? Or were they ready to accompany her to see the woman? She checked her friends, one at a time. She had no doubt Carmen would go with her. And Brit probably would, too. But what about Simone? Even though Simone didn’t believe in anything paranormal, Syd still wanted all of her closest friends with her. “Damn, woman. You did find a medium.” For a second, Syd wished Simone’s sarcasm would return. Better to have her sarcasm than her ridicule. But the stubborn streak in her wouldn’t let her lie. “Yeah, I did. She wasn’t exactly hiding under a bush what with her ad in the phone book.” “You found her in the yellow pages?” Simone almost dropped her drink, but managed to recover quickly. “Under what heading? Frauds and Con Artists?” “Okay, that’s enough.” Syd’s low rumble stopped the girls cold as she leveled her glare at Simone. “I’m going to see Madame Medusala tonight.” She scanned her eyes over the other two women and back to Simone. “And if any of you want to join me, then let’s get moving.” With a curt nod, she rose, spun on her heel, and headed toward the exit. “Syd? Hey, Sydney? Slow down. Don’t you want to change clothes, first?”

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Not daring to risk the brunt of Simone’s scorn, Syd kept up her pace and answered Brit without turning back. “Nope. I don’t care how I’m dressed.” “So you don’t care how you look when you meet your immortal lover?” Carmen’s excited voice penetrated her determined mind. It made a lot of sense. “Oh.” She stopped abruptly with Carmen and Brit skidding into her. Simone lingered a few feet away. “Yeah, I guess stinking with dried sweat wouldn’t make the best impression, would it.?” “Not unless he likes his woman wearing Body Odor by Gym.” Simone grinned, her fingers pinching her nose, and waited for Syd to respond. Having known Simone for over seven years, she understood her friend’s joke was her way of trying to break the tension between them; sort of a sideways apology. Syd grinned back, shook her head, and put on a gangster accent. “Excuse me, bitch, but this isn’t some cheap shit perfume. This is a one-of-a-kind scent called Perfume le P-U, a natural fragrance made by me, exclusively for me.” The two friends shared a chuckle until Carmen pivoted on her heel and headed for the changing rooms. “While you two have a good giggle, I’ll get changed and go find my immortal hunk. I’m going to have a night of hot, horny passion.” “Not without us you won’t!” Carmen slammed to a stop. “Huh?” When what Carmen was thinking struck home, the other ladies protested. “Urgh! Not with you! With our own immortal man!” Simone shot Syd a “duh?” expression. “Where does she come up with these ideas?” ***** “Are you sure this is the place?” Syd winced at Brit’s question. True, the place wasn’t what she’d expected. But then again, how was she supposed to know where mediums live? “A medium lives here?” Carmen’s usual cheerfulness was subdued as she stood in a row with the rest of them and studied the quaint cottage. “I expect June Cleaver to walk outside any minute with a plate of cookies and call for the Beaver. I mean, this looks like the perfect suburban home with two-point-five kids and a dog named Spot. Not the type of place where a person with mysterious powers lives.” The pristine white house sat in the middle of the quiet block surrounded by a freshly landscaped yard. Pink roses trailed along the front porch railing while flowerboxes filled with tulips of various colors decorated lace-curtained windows. A bright blue birdhouse swayed in the breeze at the edge of the porch while goldenrods danced in the wind below it. Bright red ladybugs painted along the steps of the porch marched along the flooring to lead visitors to the front door. Syd checked the address she’d hurriedly written on a notepad. “203 Maple Drive.” She cocked her head to read the numbers on the curb. “Believe it or not, this is the right house.” The others checked the curb address, too, before contemplating the house again. Hoping she hadn’t made a mistake in bringing her friends along, Syd shrugged and started through the picket gate. “We may as well find out for sure before it gets too late. When I

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called earlier, Madame Medusala said she could squeeze us in tonight, but only if we hurried. So let’s go.” Simone snorted and glanced around the empty yard. “Yeah, she’s got a mob waiting for her services. Not.” The ladies followed Syd to the front door with a grumbling Simone bringing up the rear. “Okay, I want to make it crystal clear. I’m doing this because I have nothing else to do tonight. And because I want to make sure you gullible fools aren’t going to get scammed.” “We know, Simone. You told us a zillion times on the way over here.” Carmen pushed Brit aside to stand next to Syd. “Go on. Ring the doorbell.” Taking a deep breath, Syd pushed the button surrounded by hand-painted daisies and waited. When nothing happened for several minutes, she pushed it again. “Maybe Madame Medusala went to visit someone.” Simone pointed to the sky. “Like her three-headed green friends on Mars.” “Ha, ha. Were you a comedian in a previous life?” Although she tried to keep her tone light, Syd knew Simone would pick up on her irritation. Why couldn’t her friend get into the spirit of the adventure? “Don’t be so quick to give up. Maybe she didn’t hear the bell.” Fisting her hand, she pounded five times on the flower-embossed door. After the fifth time, the door flung open, revealing a towering woman in a full length red silk gown. Glittering rubies adorned her ears while a tiara sparkled in the swirls of her black hair. “Hey, hey, hey. What’s all the tizzy about, ladies?” The hair piled high on her head shook as she wiggled a finger at the women. “Didn’t your mammas ever teach you patience?” Although she admonished them, her quick chuckle lessened the harshness of her words. Syd ran her eyes up and down the woman, studying the full-figure form squeezed into the high-collared, “way too tight” dress. “Uh, I’m Sydney Skeller.” She paused for a response but got none. “Uh, I called earlier?” Noting the heavily made-up face with its silver eye shadow and apple red lips, she hurriedly added, “But if you have plans to go out, we can reschedule.” Eyebrows arched over brilliant turquoise eyes as the woman skimmed her hands down the sides of her body. “What? You think I’m going out because I’m wearing this old thing? Don’t be silly. I wear this little number around the house all the time. Like my mamma always said, ‘A lady should dress to impress, even when relaxing at home. You never know when a gentleman caller might arrive on your doorstep.’” She fluttered her fake eyelashes and added, “Or lovely new acquaintances. Hello, ladies. I’m Madame Medusala. Welcome to my humble abode.” “Are you for real?” Syd widened her eyes at Brit, sending her an unspoken message. Good, Brit. Don’t worry about tact. Just say what’s on your mind. Madame Medusala’s boisterous laughter broke through Syd’s embarrassment as she clasped her palms to her enormous bosom and cackled. “Oh, but aren’t you the truthful one. I do so adore a girl who speaks her mind. Please come inside.” The ladies followed the woman into the home, stopping to huddle together in the small foyer. Flowering plants, potted bushes, and a variety of vines lined the walls around them, nearly obscuring the butterfly wallpapered walls.

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“Wow.” Carmen rotated in a circle, taking in all the vegetation surrounding them. “You really like nature, don’t you?” Madame Medusala slipped an arm around Carmen’s waist and tugged her to her side. “Honey, I love all living things, including plants, animals, and, especially, women and men of all persuasions. And specifically women of ethnicity.” Carmen’s forced smile faded as she turned to stare at Syd. She made a face, widening her eyes. “W-what was it we planned on doing here, Syd? I forget.” Talk about a cry for help. Syd managed to keep a giggle from slipping through her lips. Instead, she concentrated and put on a serious expression. “Right. We want you to help us find men.” Another ear-splitting laugh burst from Medusala as she hugged Carmen closer to her solid form. Carmen let out a squeal; an expression of desperation twisting her features as Medusala pushed the poor girl’s face against her gargantuan breasts. “Oh, sweetie-pie. I’m not a matchmaker. I deal with the dearly departed, not Earthbound, breathing souls. Believe me, I know men like you wouldn’t believe. But finding one for you? When you called and said you wanted help contacting immortals, I assumed you meant ‘immortal’ as in souls living on after their natural lives ended here on Earth. You know, spirits, ghosts, and the like. Not flesh and bone men. Do you think if I could conjure up one of those, I’d be standing here yakking with you?” With a mighty heave, Carmen wrenched away from Medusala and rushed to stand behind the statuesque Brit. Syd, however, was more concerned with finding out if the medium could summon immortals than in helping her friend. “The men we’re wanting to reach are, well, uh, different.” Medusala’s eyes narrowed at her. “Different how?” “Different as in never having died in the first place. Different as in living forever. Different as in supernatural. Different as in immortal. Immortal as in vampires, werewolves, and gods living on Mount Olympus.” “Are you ladies pulling my leg?” Syd glanced at the outline of Madame Medusala’s legs in the skin-tight dress and inwardly shuddered. Me pull her leg? Yeah, like I could lift that tree trunk. “Syd’s got her heart set on hooking up with a werewolf. That kind of different.” Simone crossed her arms, waiting for the medium’s response. “Oh, my.” Medusala raked her stunned gaze from one lady to the next. “I don’t believe I’ve ever had anyone ask for an immortal like you’re talking about. In fact, I’m not sure I know how to contact one.” She fingered a red flower on a plant near her, taking a moment to ponder their request. “But hey, I’m game. What the hell? Let’s give it a shot. So which lovely lady wants to go first?” Syd opened her mouth to volunteer, but Simone beat her to it. “We’re doing this as a group.” Simone shot a pointed look at Syd and continued, “Definitely as a group.” Medusala tapped a manicured finger on her lips. “Well, I don’t normally do groups.” “This time you will. Or no deal.” Simone held her hand up, silencing the others’ disagreement. “I’m insisting on this, girls, and it’s my way or no way. I know what I’m doing.”

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Not wanting to argue with Simone’s legendary stubborn streak, the others reluctantly agreed. Medusala furrowed her brow a moment, then brightened. “Okay. But I’ll still have to charge the cost of a private session for each one of you.” “Well, of course, you will.” If Medusala heard the cynicism in Simone’s mutter she didn’t let on. Instead, she waved her hand for them to follow her down a narrow hallway, the walls covered with painted vines that seemed to flow toward the back of the house. As they approached the end, the medium stopped in front of a red door and pivoted to face the ladies. “All right, ladies, once inside, I expect everyone to do exactly as I say. If contacting immortals is anything like contacting spirits, then we need to do this precisely right. Does everyone agree?” The ladies voiced their assent and readied themselves to follow her into the room. Just as Medusala’s hand fell on the doorknob, she turned and stared at Syd, concern changing her happy demeanor into a dark countenance. “Are you very sure you want to do this?” Caught off guard, Syd swallowed and had to force out her reply. “Yes, I’m sure.” But the medium’s intensity squeezed her heart. “Why do you ask?” “I don’t know.” Medusala shook her head as if trying to locate the answer in her brain by shaking it free. Failing to find it, she sought the answer somewhere on Syd’s face as her gaze bored into Syd. “But I’m getting the impression that finding your immortal will cause a great rift in your family; a major change for all those concerned. For good or for bad, I can’t tell. Still, it’s not my decision, so if you’re sure…” If what the medium had said was true, should she risk it? Would finding her perfect man be worth causing problems in her family? Syd caught herself chewing on her bottom lip and stopped. No, she was determined to see this through. After all, she and her father already had a strained relationship, so how much worse could it get? “I’m sure.” “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Medusala’s bright attitude returned as they followed her into a windowless room slightly larger than the average kitchen. Posters decorated the yellow walls while a pretty, multi-colored tiled table rested in the middle of the tiny room. A disco ball sat glowing on the table, casting bright images on the walls around it. “A disco ball?” Brit touched the shiny globe before sitting in one of the two wroughtiron chairs at the table. “Are you planning on talking to John Travolta? Because if you are, you’re in for a surprise. He’s not dead or immortal. Although he did come back from a dead career.” Carmen giggled and pushed on Brit’s arm. “You are too funny!” “Forget the ball. What about all these posters of movie stars? There’s Johnny Depp, Sean Connery, Orlando Bloom, and—” “Oprah. Cher. And even Bernadette Peters.” Simone whirled to face Carmen. “Do you always have to interrupt?” Medusala ran a hand lovingly over Johnny’s picture. “What can I say? I like to have my favorite gals and pals around me when I’m working.” She slid into the chair across the table from Brit. “Forgive me, ladies, but the rest of you will have to stand. As I said, I don’t usually do groups.” “Could we get on with this? How do we start?” Syd heard the impatience in her voice and took a couple of breaths to calm the jitters running rampant inside her.

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“First, we summon the spirits, er, immortals. We need to get their attention. Once we have their attention, we’ll see what we can do to bring them to you.” Medusala flicked a switch on the base of the disco ball and sat back as the ball began spinning faster, flashing the colors around the room. “Relax, be quiet, and wait.” Placing her palms an inch above the ball, Medusala’s eyelids fluttered until coming to rest on her cheeks. “Close your eyes and listen.” Tucking her chin, she started mumbling incoherent words as the ladies leaned closer, trying to hear. A few minutes passed before her mumbled chanting grew more forceful until, at last, they could hear the words. “Oh, Great Immortals. Come to us. We beseech you. These ladies seek immortal men. They call to you now. Come to them. Answer their prayers. Answer their desires.” “Oh, brother.” Syd kept her eyes closed as she whipped out her hand to poke Simone standing next to her. “Be quiet.” “Wish for your immortal man, ladies. Call him to you. Not with your voice, but with your mind. With your heart. With your very soul. Picture your immortal man in your mind’s eye and compel him to come to you.” Syd squeezed her eyes tighter and concentrated on her perfect man. Having dreamed of him for years, she quickly brought up his image. Long, dark hair, accented with one white streak, flowed down to his broad shoulders. Naked from the waist up, his skin shimmered as if somehow in motion, while a mountainwide chest tapered to an abdomen boasting ripple after ripple of a toned, lean stomach. A short scar traveled along his square jaw; a scar some might find ugly, but one that sent a shiver of lust through Syd. A sharp nose kept his sensual lips from seeming feminine, but his eyes were what snared her to him. Dark, laughing eyes captured her, daring her with some unknown challenge. As she focused harder on him, his eyes changed, lightening until black morphed into milk chocolate brown. Sparkles of gold entered the slanted eyes, coloring the brown until, finally, amber eyes watched her. With a smirk of a smile playing on his lips, he lifted his head, winked, and howled. As he howled, his body changed, lowering itself until, finally, the man was gone and a glorious black wolf stood in his place. Syd gasped, her heart pounding at an alarming rate. Heat rushed through her and sweat ran down the back of her neck to flow along the curve of her spine. Suddenly, the air in the room grew staler, suffocating her as she struggled to breathe. She sensed, more than felt, the world spin around her, and she reached out for anything, anyone, to steady her. Her last thought was an urgent plea for him to come to her, but nothing could stop the blackness. “Syd? Are you okay?” Carmen’s anxious voice leaked into her confused mind, but she couldn’t force her eyes open. “I told you she pushed herself too hard at the gym. We shouldn’t have let her come.” Simone’s words were angry, yet Syd could hear the worry hidden behind the anger. “Sydney, listen to me. You’d better open your eyes right now or I’m calling 911.” Brit’s threat laced into her semi-consciousness. “I mean it.” “Ladies, I want to make something perfectly clear. I’m not responsible for her collapsing.” Medusala’s voice sounded farther away, but deeper, thicker. “Like you said, she pushed too hard working out. This isn’t my fault.”

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As if awakening from a long, hard sleep, Syd forced her eyelids open to find her friends huddled around her. She shivered, as much due to the confusion keeping her thinking fuzzy as to the cold tile floor beneath her. “What happened?” A very different, serious Medusala stood in a corner, hands fisted on her hips and a defiant expression on her features. She looks like the Jolly Green Giant in drag. Relief flooded the three faces above her. “You fainted, I guess.” Simone rubbed Syd’s arms to comfort her. “If I hadn’t been peeking the whole time, I wouldn’t have caught you. Otherwise, you’d have cracked that thick skull of yours big time.” “I fainted?” Somehow she thought fainting didn’t cover what she’d experienced. She’d seen him more clearly than ever before. She’d sensed him; felt him; called for him. “You fainted right after—” Simone’s punch on Carmen’s shoulder cut her off. “Ow! What was that for?” “How do you like being interrupted, huh? Now close your mouth and stay quiet.” Simone thinned her lips, sending Carmen an unmistakable warning. Syd’s internal alarms went off at the silent exchange between her two friends. Especially when she caught the same unspoken argument flash between Simone and Brit. “What? What aren’t you telling me?” Carmen grinned a “gee I’m glad you’re okay” grin that turned into an “I dare you to stop me” snarl at the other women. “I don’t know why these two don’t want you to know.” “Carmen, I’m warning you. Shut up.” “You aren’t the boss of me, Simone. Besides, I think she should know. Who knows? Maybe she can tell us why she did what she did.” Ignoring Simone’s glare, she returned her attention to Syd. “You did something very odd right before you fainted.” Syd didn’t appreciate Carmen’s dramatic pause. “Well? What? Damn it, quit playing drama queen and tell me.” A quick grin slipped out before Carmen could stifle it. Under control again and looking serious, she told her. “Syd, you howled.” The shock of Carmen’s statement gave her the necessary jolt to sit up. “I howled? Are you serious?” “Dead serious.” Brit checked Medusala before adding, “Pun intended.” “Why would I howl?” You know why. Syd lowered her eyes as the truth of her statement hit home. Because I’m dreaming about a shifter. One of the monsters my father hunts. “We thought maybe you could tell us.” Brit bent her head trying to meet Syd’s downcast eyes, but Syd darted her gaze away. “Exactly what I said.” Carmen’s huff at Brit went unchallenged. Medusala let out a low whistle of relief before sashaying over to stand above Syd. “I don’t know what happened or why you did what you did. Of course, your fainting had nothing to do with anything I did or said, I’m sure. But I’m going to have to ask you ladies to leave. No charge for the session. I don’t want any problems and I have a performance I need to get ready for.” She straightened up and stuck out her chest. “I’m headlining at Boy Toys tonight. I’d invite you ladies to catch the show, but under the circumstances…”

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Simone and Brit helped Syd to her feet and held onto her as they headed toward the door. Carmen followed behind a few feet, but then whipped around to point at Medusala. “Oh, my God. You’re headlining? But Boy Toys is a drag queen bar.” Medusala threw back her head and laughed. “And she called you the drama queen. Honey, nobody knows drama or queens like I do.” Back to her former outrageous self, Medusala shook her large breasts at the women. “You didn’t think these were real, did you?” At their stunned expressions, she let go of her breasts and, with a flourish of one hand, directed the ladies to follow her to the front door. “Besides, I told you, didn’t I? I know men like you wouldn’t believe.”

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Chapter Two “Don’t think I don’t know why you conned me into coming to the gym. Chuck takes care of this side of the pack’s business and he doesn’t need your flirty ass pretending to go over the books so you can check out the guys pumping iron. I’m warning you. No trolling for men.” Blair whipped out a cosmetic mirror and checked his reflection. “Oh, don’t be such a grumpy dump, Mickale. Me thinketh you protesteth too mucheth.” Without breaking his stride, he puckered up and kissed his image. “You’ve been in a foul mood all day. What’s the matter with you? Didn’t the little girlie you picked up at the bar like doing it doggy style?” Mickale groaned every time he thought about last night. Not only did he not have sex with the bimbo he’d brought back to his hotel room, he’d gotten the unnerving sensation that he’d heard from his future mate. Half asleep and more than a little drunk, he’d jolted awake when a female’s howl resonated through his mind, startling him into full consciousness. At the time, he’d thought the howl was real, but now he wasn’t so sure. He didn’t want it to be real; hoping and praying it was all in his dreams. Because if the howl turned out to be from his intended mate, no amount of willpower could fight the instinctual need to answer her call. “When are you going to admit you prefer me over some tight-skirt-wearing, siliconeinjected bitch?” Blair sidled closer to Mickale who shoved him away. “For the zillionth time, Blair, back off. I’m straight. I’ve always been straight. I’ll always be straight. And even if I were gay, I wouldn’t want your skinny butt.” Mickale choked on his black coffee, annoyed when two men coming out of the gym snickered after overhearing their conversation. “If you weren’t the best accountant the pack has, I’d wrap a choke collar around your neck so tight, you’d have to breathe out your ass.” “Oooh, goody.” Blair ran his eyes down Mickale’s frame and wiggled his eyebrows. “You like it rough, huh, Mickey?” “I promise you, you shit, if you don’t at least try to act normal, I’m going to tear your heart out.” “Gay is normal, you politically incorrect beast.” Real stupid, Mickale. Insult one of your best friends. “Yeah, I know. You’re right. Sorry. I’m talking like an idiot.” When Blair tried to hug him in a gesture of forgiveness, Mickale jumped out of reach. “But you know what I mean. And don’t call me Mickey.” “What you mean is, you want me to act like a straight man, right? Okay, if that’s what my hunkie, macho leader wants, then that’s what my hunkie, macho leader gets.” Blair pulled his tangerine polo shirt out of his khaki slacks, ruffled his hair, and slouched. Shoving his thumbs in his pants’ pockets, he sauntered ahead of Mickale and lowered his voice. “How’s this, dude?” Mickale laughed and followed his friend through the automatic sliding doors of the gym. “You’re acting like John Wayne on hormone replacement therapy. As sad as your act is, it’s still an improvement. Keep it up.”

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Blair, however, got other ideas when a man dressed in tight fuchsia shorts scooted past them, heading for the juice bar. Forgetting his heterosexual persona, he swiveled, darting after the man. “Oh, yoo-hoo, darl—urgh.” Mickale’s fist grabbing Blair’s shirt collar cut off the little shifter’s salutation and sent him falling backwards into Mickale. “Ooochie! What do you think you’re doing, Mickey?” “I told you. No manhunts. And don’t call me Mickey. I’m not a mouse.” “Okay, okay. Don’t get your tighty whities in a bunch.” Blair coughed and rubbed the mark around his neck. “Unless they’re in a pile at my feet.” Ducking from Mickale’s swipe at his head, Blair let him step ahead of him and followed him over to the gym’s office. After locating the gym’s newest manager, Steve, they made their introductions and were quickly escorted into the main office. Steve took a seat in front of a computer resting on a mahogany desk and pulled up the gym’s financial records. “When Chuck, uh, Mr. Roberts, called he didn’t say what specific records you wanted, so I took the liberty of compiling everything into this software for easier viewing.” Spinning the chair around to face Blair and Mickale, the lines furrowing his forehead made the young man appear ten years older. “There’s nothing wrong, is there? I can assure you I keep all the record up to date.” Mickale patted Steve on the shoulder, both to reassure him and to nudge him out of the chair as he motioned for Blair to take his place. “I’m sure you do. This is simply a routine check. Nothing for you to worry about.” Blair started tapping away. “Mickale’s right. At first glance, everything appears to be in order. Now if you two will excuse me, I’ll put on my accountant’s hat and play with some numbers. Although I’d much rather play with somebody else’s numbers.” He winked at Steve causing the young man to stumble sideways in his haste to put distance between them. Leave it to Blair to turn finances into a sexual advance. They’d be lucky if Steve didn’t sue Blair and the company for sexual harassment. Still, Mickale couldn’t help but smile at Steve’s reaction before he sauntered over to the window separating the offices from the rest of the gym. His gaze scanned the rows of machines, each section boasting either treadmills, ellipticals, or stair steppers. The top floor contained a running track as well as weight rooms and aerobic classes. “Five o’clock and the place is full. Perfect.” “We have a very loyal and booming clientele. Uh, would you like to work out while Mr. Winsom goes over the records?” “Oh, relax, sweetheart, and call me Blair. Mr. Winsom makes me sound like I’m old and gray.” Blair fluffed his hair at Steve. “And, as you can see, I’m not.” Even though Mickale tossed Blair a low grumble, he knew he was wasting his time. Why do I bother trying to make him act differently? Blair is Blair. One of a kind. Steve glanced at the delicate-looking blonde man, gulped, and offered an alternative to Mickale. “Or we could discuss business. Together. I mean, instead of my staying here, uh…” Alone with Blair. Go ahead, Steve. Say it. “…disturbing Mr., uh, Blair.” Mickale considered the different scenarios. Should he leave Steve under Blair’s lecherous supervision? Perhaps “under” was a poor choice of words. Mickale ran a hand over his mouth to hide the smirk itching to break out. Or maybe he should help the kid out and ask him for a tour of the facility.

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“Blair, you can handle things by yourself, right?” The smaller shifter’s head shot up from studying the monitor and cocked an eyebrow at Mickale. “Depends on what things you want me to handle.” “Behave, Blair.” “Well, shoot. Where’s the fun in that?” Nonetheless, he turned his concentration to the rows of numbers running across the screen. “Yeah, I’m fine.” “How about showing me around, Steve? I haven’t seen the place since the renovation.” “I’d like to be shown around, Steve.” “Blair, shut up. Come on, Steve. Let’s get you out of here before you get thrown to the wolf.” Mickale tossed a knowing glance at Blair. Oh, if he only knew. The relief flooding over Steve’s face was comical and again Mickale fought to hold back his laughter. “Sure, Mr. Morgan. No problem.” Steve fumbled with the office door in his hurry to leave, rushed through the door forgetting to let Mickale go ahead of him, gasped at his mistake, and bumped into Mickale as he tried to retrace his steps. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry, Mr. Morgan. Oh, shit, I didn’t mean to use foul language in front of you. Oh, shit, I did it again.” Mickale grasped his shoulders, forcing the young man to stop fidgeting. “Chill, Steve. You’re all right. Trust me. I’ve heard the word before.” Turning Steve around to face the machines, he gave him a slight shove in the correct direction. “Lead the way.” Mickale followed Steve around the outskirts of the workout area, letting him drone on about the new equipment added in the gym’s renovation. But his mind couldn’t concentrate on the young man’s words. Instead, he kept drifting back to last night, the sound of the female’s howl echoing through his memory. He’d heard the call within his head as well as within his heart and knew what it meant. It was time for him to find his mate and take her as his own. His single, free-loving days were over. Damn. “Sir, we’re coming around to the treadmill area. From there, would you like me to show you the juice bar? Our profits have increased substantially since it opened. Sir?” Mickale sensed Steve’s focus on him and forced his attention back to business. “Uh, sure. Good. Glad to hear it.” Steve nodded, continuing toward the treadmills. “As you can see, we have several rows of treadmills since those are our most popular machines. They’re the best in the industry with programmable settings…” The rest of the manager’s words were lost on Mickale as he stopped behind one of the whirring machines. A woman, clad in black bike shorts and a neon pink t-shirt, ran on the belt, her short, curly hair glinting red fire from the bright lights above her. Mickale tilted his head to one side and examined the full roundness of her bottom. “Now there’s a big enough target any man could aim his shaft at and hit. I do like the junk in her trunk.” Her head twisted around and their eyes met and held. The irritated expression on her face faded as her mouth dropped open in surprise. “Hey, sweetheart, you’d better watch out—”

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Mickale’s warning was lost on her as her big, beautiful eyes bugged open and she let out a yelp. In one awkward motion, her feet flew out from under her, crashing her on her side onto the still-running belt. She slid with the conveyor, moving quickly to the end, and slammed into Mickale’s legs. “Argh!” Mickale went down hard, landing on top of the woman whose upper torso bumped up and down as the treadmill hit her back over and over again. Yet, even though she pushed on his chest to get him off her, he couldn’t help but enjoy the soft pressure of her breasts against him. “Ow! This thing’s got me!” The panic on her face erased the lust-filled idea spreading through his body and mind. He gripped her shirt and pulled her as far forward as the machine would allow. Trying to ignore the spectacular view of her ample cleavage, he peeked behind her. “Shit. The back of your shirt’s caught in the mechanism.” He raised up just far enough to see where Steve was. “Steve, don’t just stand there. Turn this thing off.” Steve scrambled past them to the control panel and pushed the red “Off” button. Amazingly, the treadmill continued to run. “Uh, I can’t get it to stop. Hang on while I get in front and pull the plug.” “Hurry! It hurts!” Frightened eyes captured him and he could think of only one thing to do. Shifting just enough to sharpen his teeth, Mickale bent toward her, punctured his teeth through the fabric, and pulled. Her shirt ripped, tearing away as he lifted his head, and the woman screamed louder. Freed from the monster machine, Mickale and the woman scrambled apart. She clutched her arms in front of her generous breasts while Mickale tried not to gawk in wonder. Stare, hell, yes, but not gawk. “Are you crazy?” She stood, arms crossed in front of her, protecting precious little of her chest—How lucky can a man get?—and gaped at the crowd surrounding them. Several men whistled and hooted, bumping against each other for a better view of the show. “Why are you yelling at me? I helped you, remember? What’s the problem, anyway? You’ve got a sports bra on.” He licked his lips, transfixed as the perspiration-soaked bra left nothing to the imagination. Even his very creative imagination. Her mouth worked, trying to find words and giving him the time to notice the fullness of her lips. Too bad her words finally found their way through them. “Give me your shirt, you jerk.” She widened her eyes more, indicating the people around them. “Right now.” Considering the situation, Mickale didn’t hesitate to comply. Quickly, he whipped off his denim shirt and held it out to her. She inched closer so she could grab the shirt without totally removing her arms from across her chest. Once in hand, she dashed for the locker rooms. “I got it!” Mickale turned to Steve who stood holding the power cord like an Olympic gold medal as the treadmill finally ground to a stop. “Great, Steve. Good work.”

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***** Syd grumbled as a sharp pain sliced into her back. “I’m telling you, Carmen, I can never go back to the gym. I’ll be the talk of the place for at least another six months.” Holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder, she placed the pill container on the kitchen counter and twisted the lid off. She listened to Carmen’s offer to play nurse to her, but she knew her friend would smother her to death. “Gee, Car, you’re really nice to offer, but I’m going to do what the doctor suggested. I’m taking a couple of the pain pills he gave me and then heading to bed for a good night’s rest.” She picked up the bottle and slid a couple of pink pills onto the counter. Not stopping to get water, she threw them to the back of her throat and swallowed as she crossed into the living room. “Seriously, I’m bruised, but okay. Nothing for you to worry about. Unless you’d like to worry about my lost dignity.” Taking the phone in her hand again, she eased her body onto the couch and punched on the television. “Okay, I promise. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.” She placed the phone on her coffee table and wiggled into the cushions to try and relax. But the image of her falling on the treadmill and having her sweat-wet boobs exposed for the entire gym was too much to shut out. Yet the image of him—big, tall, “where have you been all my life”—him was harder to sweep from her mind. The moment she’d turned and seen his face she’d known the truth. Her immortal man was real. And standing at the foot of her treadmill. “Holey moley. I do not believe this.” Had she really summoned her dream man? An immortal? Was he part wolf as she’d wished for? She groaned, glanced at the guidebook resting on the table in front of her and clamped her eyes shut. “No. I know shifters are real, but no one can summon one like calling a pet dog. Besides, I could never get involved with a shifter. What the hell was I thinking?” A stronger pain stabbed her side where a large purplish bruise already spread across her skin. “Perfect. Just perfect. Even when I hurt I can’t stop thinking about him.” She pulled a throw pillow to her mouth and yelled into the plumpness, screaming until her throat hurt. When she finished, she tossed the pillow away, her frustration level higher than before. So much for scream therapy. “I am not, I repeat, am not going to spend the night in pain and wondering about him. I’ll sort this out tomorrow.” Rising with a groan, she stalked into the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator. “Now where is the wine? Ah, there.” She rested the cold bottle against her forehead to help erase the headache threatening to erupt. “I don’t think those pain pills are going to cut it, so I’ll add my own medicine. Not to mention something to serve as a memory inhibitor.” Putting the bottle to her lips, she slugged down a big gulp, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, snagged a wine glass from the overhead rack, and poured while she returned to the couch. “Yep, people. I spell pain relief al-c-o-h-o-l.” Syd downed another large drink, watched an old movie, and waited for the buzz from the combination of alcohol and pills to take affect. Since she wasn’t a heavy drinker, the warm calm of the alcohol started flowing through her within seconds.

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When the doorbell rang, she giggled, pushed off the couch, and started for the door. “Probably Carmen coming to my rescue. No, no. I bet it’s my mom.” Mimicking her mother, she quipped, “Sydney Skeller, you know better than to mix booze and pills. Are you trying to overdose like some pitiful drug addict?” She giggled again and reached for the doorknob. What if it is Mom? The sobering thought stopped her, her hand still outstretched as she contemplated facing her mother in her current condition. “Oh, crap. You’re a grown woman, Syd. Why are you letting your mother’s opinion bother you?” Because I shouldn’t mix booze with pills. And she’d be the first to say so. “But I didn’t drink that much.” Or did I? “And the pills aren’t that strong. Anyway, I only took enough to relax me.” She held the goblet in the air, trying to remember how much had been in the glass and how many times she’d refilled it. “Did I refill it?” “Do you always talk to yourself when answering the door?” Wine sloshed onto the floor as Syd jumped at the male voice. A male voice she recognized. It’s him. My immortal from the gym. “Aren’t you going to say anything else? Or maybe you’re working your way up to opening the door? Can’t you do both at the same time?” Renewed irritation struck her at his taunting tone. Tugging the door wide, she prepared herself to give him a piece of her mind. The handsome, dark-haired hunk of her desire stood at her doorstep, holding a colorful bouquet of flowers in one hand while waving a bottle of wine in the other. His eyes, mischievous and laughing, sparkled at her, as they had so many times in her dreams. Everything she’d planned to say flew out a hole in her head, leaving her gaping at him like a love-sick teenager. “Is this a game you like to play?” The thick eyebrow he slanted in question made her want to reach out and stroke its bushy softness. “Or am I supposed to know a secret password?” He braced the bottle under one arm and reached out his hand. “How about a secret handshake?” “Huh?” His smirk grew bigger and he withdrew his hand. “Okay, let’s go back to basics. Could I come inside?” Her gaze slipped from his eyes, down his tight stomach outlined by his form-fitting shirt, and lower. She suddenly wanted to stroke something other than his eyebrow. “I want to—” Oh, my God! Shut up! Did I really almost say that out loud? Ripping her eyes back to his face, she saw his look of comprehension and cringed. Heat swept from her toes to her face in record time and she knew she’d gained a new skin hue. “You want to what?” Like he doesn’t know. “Never mind. And how did you know where I live?” His smile faltered, then brightened. “My company owns the gym, so I asked Steve to give me your information. I hope you don’t mind.” The tip of his smile crooked an inch higher. “You do realize I’m here to apologize, right?” Catching his gaze linger over her breasts, she grumbled a few choice words and crossed her arms over her chest as she’d done at the gym. Talk about déjà vu. “You should. But I’m not interested.”

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“I bear gifts. Flowers and wine.” His lips, full and delectable, twitched sideways. “But I see you’ve already taken care of the drink portion of the apology.” The tip of his tongue peeked out between those wonderful lips, causing her to wonder why she wasn’t yanking him into her home…and into her bedroom. After all, she’d called him, so why not take advantage of the result? Still, the scene at the gym left it hard not to feel uncomfortable around him. Him and everyone else who’d seen her headlights. “Yeah, so?” Oh, come on, Syd. Can’t you think of a better comeback than that? At least let the man know you’ve got a few working brain cells. She took another sip of her drink and considered whether the dizziness sweeping through her was a result of the pills and booze, or the magnetism of the man in front of her. “I also have your contract which I’m ready to tear up and replace with a year’s free membership.” He patted his shirt pocket. “It’s our way of saying we’re sorry for the, uh, unfortunate incident.” Something wasn’t quite right about his apology. What was it? Syd frowned and tried to force her mind to work. But the fuzziness only grew stronger. “Well, yeah, but I won’t be using the gym anymore. You understand how awkward it might be, don’t you? So, your offer isn’t much good to me.” He frowned; his eyes deepening, growing impossibly darker. “I’m sorry to hear you say that.” The frown morphed, however, and changed into a lopsided leer. “I know a lot of the other customers will miss seeing you.” Oh, no he didn’t! She narrowed her eyes, focusing on him to make sure he’d really said what she thought he’d said. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Mr.…” The laughing twinkle in his eyes intensified. “Mickale Morgan. But forget the Mister part.” Winking, he pushed past her, ignoring her feeble attempt to protest, and marched into the living room. “And yes, I do have a lot of nerve. Among a lot of other attributes.” “Well, damn, make yourself at home.” She watched, intrigued by his gall, as well as entranced by his sexy saunter over to stand next to her sofa. “Thank you. I usually do.” “Mr. Morgan—” “Mickale.” He placed the bouquet in the crystal vase on the end table. “After what we went through, I think you should call me Mickale, don’t you?” “We didn’t share an experience. I’m the victim here, not you. Your crappy machine malfunctioned and nearly ate me alive.” She knew as soon as the words were out of her mouth she shouldn’t have said them. His wicked gleam hit her, ratcheting up the heat in her face another ten degrees. “Don’t. Don’t even go there. In your mind or with your mouth.” His lecherous grin beamed brighter as her words finally processed into the foggy gray matter between her ears. Oh, shit. Did I really say what I think I said? His expression told her she had. “Shit, I didn’t mean… Oh, shit, never mind.” Shut up before you say something dumber. If that’s even possible. “Sometimes ya gotta wonder what comes out of our mouths, huh?” His comical innocent expression caught her by surprise and she almost giggled at the sight. Here was the shifter—or is he just a man? Shit, I hope not—she’d summoned, a sexy and

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gorgeous man like the one in her dreams and, to top it off, he was funny, too. Not anything like the monsters her father had described to her throughout her childhood. Oh, damn. Her father. Why did she have to have the hots for a werewolf? Why not a nice car thief instead? Or a homicidal axe murderer? Something, anything, anyone her father hadn’t spent his whole life trying to kill. Besides, how could her father ever harm anyone like him? Mickale threw her another curve. “I was going to say that we’ve replaced the faulty machine. So no harm done.” Okay, maybe she did want him dead after all. “No harm done? Are you kidding me?” How could he stand there, exuding masculinity and overpowering lust, and say ‘no harm done’? “You look fine to me.” Again, he flashed her a “look out, here comes another barb” grin. “In fact, you look better than fine. Absolutely delectable.” Delectable? Would he eat her…literally? The image of a horror movie werewolf, tearing apart his victim, rushed through her mind right before another image of Mickale lying between her legs struck her, shaking her to the core. Think victim, Syd. It’s the safer choice. Carefully—I wouldn’t want him to think I’m smashed because I’m not. Right?—she snatched up the bottle from the coffee table and crossed to the kitchen counter to refill her goblet. When had her legs gotten so wobbly? “I’m not talking about bruises and scrapes here. Those will heal. I’m talking about the embarrassment you put me through.” “Don’t you think you’ve got things mixed up? I saved you.” “Oh, really? You saved me by flashing my boobs at all the gawkers?” His low chuckle made her wish she could lay her head on his shirt to hear the rumble in his chest. “Well, that wasn’t my goal, but getting a load of your jugs was an unexpected bonus. I’d call it a reward for a job well done. Besides, it wasn’t as if you were totally naked. You had your bra on. Although it was stretched to its limits and basically transparent, of course.” “I’m glad you can be so blasé about it. After all, you didn’t get hurt, did you? You weren’t embarrassed, were you? In fact, you’ll probably forget all about ripping my shirt off by tomorrow morning.” He moved so fast she didn’t know he was beside her until he already was. With a measured, deliberate move, he put his wine bottle on the counter. Taking a goblet from the overhead wine glass rack, he poured the remaining alcohol from her bottle and took a sip. She watched, taking in the way his throat worked and his jaw moved as he swallowed and turned to face her, his glittering dark eyes fixing on hers. “Trust me. I’ll never forget.” Syd gasped, startled by the fire in the depths of his gaze. A long, slow burn lit up in her abdomen as she raised a finger to his lips. His mouth opened as her fingertip touched his lower lip, closing over half of her finger. Yet, when his tongue swirled over her skin, she couldn’t help but let her own tongue escape to caress her suddenly parched lips. Go for it, Syd. This is what you wanted. The voice in her head whispered to do what was in her heart; what she’d dreamed about for months. She paused, tried to consider the consequences, but rational thought was

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lost in the overload from the myriad of sensations coming from the rest of her body. Instead, she leaned into him as his hand slipped around her neck to bring her nearer. “I don’t—” He released her finger and raised his to her lips. “Yes, you do.” She forgot what she’d started to say and, instead, ran her tongue along the side of his finger. He smiled, a smile all too knowledgeable of her emotions, and brought his face to within an inch from hers. Their warm breaths mingled and she drank in the scent of him. “You called me to you, Sydney Skeller.” She sucked in her breath; his declaration floating in the air as she tried to ignore his meaning. Still, she wasn’t ready for his next words. “I’m here to claim what’s mine.”

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Chapter Three Staring into her eyes, he paused as if waiting for her to disagree. When she didn’t, couldn’t, he pressed his mouth to hers. Time froze as Syd’s head swam, a myriad of colors flaring behind her closed eyelids. Finally, just as she was sure she’d pass out, he released her. “Syd.” No one calls me Syd except my friends. His voice swept over her, giving her renewed energy, and she laced her fingers through the front of his shirt. Allowing her desire to run wild, she tugged him toward the bedroom as he removed her hand from his shirt and took hers in his. He trailed behind her, letting her lead the way until she jerked him past her to push him on top of her bed. “All right. A round bed. You, lady, are my kind of naughty woman.” She laughed as she crawled on top of him. “Naughty, but nice. Nice in a naughty way.” “So I guess this means you accept my apology?” “Maybe.” At the surprise on his face, she added, “It’ll depend on how good you are in bed. And if it’s forgiveness you’re seeking, you’d better be damn good.” “Is that right? Hell, Syd, I’m so good you’re going to end up apologizing to me.” Her laughter mixed with his and she thought how right they sounded together, how comfortable—in a sexy “rip his clothes off of him” kind of way—she felt with him. Their hands tore at each other’s clothes as the passion coursed through them, while their lips mated. Within minutes, a naked Syd broke the lip-lock and leaned back, running her hands over Mickale’s bare chest. His rough hands, the hands of a man who did his fair share of hard labor, gripped her breasts, bringing them down to his mouth. He nipped at them, enticing flickers of lust to spark to life through her, thrilling her with each new burst of heat. Here was her man. The man of her dreams. The man she’d wished for almost all her life. Syd placed her hands beside his head and arched her back, lowering her breasts to him. “Thank God you’re beautiful.” What did he mean by that? She started to ask, but his tongue lavishing her nipples wiped the question away. Undulating her hips, she reveled in the feel of his shaft growing stronger, bigger, and longer under her. Soon she slipped his shaft in between the crevice of her folds, teasing herself as she teased him. She wanted him to crave her as much as she hungered for him. He prodded, trying to position his cock to enter her, but she twisted, falling to the side of him. “Not so fast. I’ve had dreams about this. Now that it’s time to make those dreams real, I’m going to make this last.” Mickale moved, coming to rest on top of her, and trapped his face between her breasts. He mumbled between licks around her globes. “Tell me about your dreams.” She giggled as his tongue tickled the underside of her breast. “Okay, but I’ve had a lot of them. How about one of my favorites?”

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“Yeah, tell me about the dream you want to come true first.” “I want to play Submarine with you.” “Submarine?” Syd shuddered in pleasure at the heat in his look. “Yeah, Submarine. Don’t tell me you don’t know how to play Submarine.” He winked at her as he’d done so many times in her dreams. “Sweetheart, I’m a Commander in that navy.” “Well, then, what are you waiting for. Dive, sailor, dive.” Pushing his shoulders, she guided him down between her legs. “Remember when you said I looked delectable? You’re about to find out if you were right.” He obeyed her even when her hands fell from his shoulders to clutch the comforter. He slid her lower, bringing her legs over his shoulders. “Yeah. Forget the thousand-dollar a bottle wine. Give me a drink of you any day.” His tongue moved slowly over her inner thigh, making it hard to breathe, much less speak. Yet she couldn’t resist joking with him a little more. “So, hmm, you like, uh, pussy juice?” Mickale lurched up from her, startling her, and shook his head vehemently. “Don’t ever use the word ‘pussy’ when we’re having sex. That word is a real turn-off.” “Why n—“ Syd’s head fell back on the pillow as his mouth latched onto her again. His tongue whipped around her throbbing clit and she gripped the covers to help keep her body earthbound. “Oh, yes. Yes!” She moaned as he pulled her closer and drank deeper. “Oh, shit, Mickale. Don’t stop.” Bucking under his hold, she tensed, and released time after time. Only when he broke free of her did her pulse begin to slow down. “Wow.” She took a minute to let her breathing return to normal before quipping in a terrible British accent, “More, please, sir?” She paused, ready to hear him laugh, and was surprised when he ignored her. Wiping his mouth, his jaw worked as he gritted his teeth, and he rose to place his face over hers. “This has never happened before.” The strain in his voice was almost tangible. “What? You never made a girl come before?” Was this his joke? “Somehow I find that very hard to believe. I came like multiple times.” “Oh, shit, of course not. I always give my females multiple orgasms.” His females? “Gee, no humility wasted on you, huh? Then what?” She scanned his body, expecting to see something wrong. Had he lost his hard-on? But she found nothing. Well, nothing wrong, that is. Because there was definitely something major between his legs. “Why’d you stop?” What did his tense expression mean? “I meant. Argh, I can’t—oh, shit!—wait!” Running his tongue over her collarbone, he spread her legs and plunged into her. The force of his thrust reverberated through his howl as he rammed into her, driving her toward the headboard. With his hands gripping the bed, he pumped faster, harder as sweat formed along his brow. A drop fell, landing on Syd’s chest, and she followed it as it trickled down the slope of her breast, moving in jerks as each thrust rocked her body. Panting from the force pounding into her, she raised her eyes to him, wanting to see his release when it came. Amber eyes, slanted, piercing in their unbridled passion, fastened onto

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hers. Yet when she saw the teeth inching out of his mouth, her heart nearly slammed to an abrupt stop. Fangs. Long, sharp, deadly fangs. She realized as she stared at his fangs that she hadn’t let herself fully believe he was a shifter. But now? Now she had to believe. Would all the things her father had taught her come true? Was she about to die? Yet she knew in her mind what she’d always known in her heart, what her dreams had always told her. She had nothing to fear from Mickale. The room wavered around her as the full effect of the alcohol and pills worked to numb her from the bruises and pain of her fall. With every bit of need within her, she fought to experience every move, every smell, every taste of him inside her, and every sense of their sex to the fullest. Mickale stiffened, readied for his release, and held back his head. His howl startled her and she stared, fascinated, as the sound carried on for several minutes. “Wow.” Her breath rushed out of her as she saw his climax tear through him, making every muscle in his body tighten and relax. Hugging him to her, she held his body as wave after wave rippled through his back. At last, he slumped against her, crushing her with his weight. Yet she didn’t care. She held onto him, luxuriating in the beat of his heart against hers and the warmth of his breath against her neck. Knowing she was where she belonged, she closed her eyes, her pulse slowing as she let the fuzziness of her mind drift her away. “Syd?” “Hmm?” “You’re mine.” The words she’d waited to hear from her dream man filtered through her sex-fogged brain and she smiled. “Uh, huh.” Yet something in his tone made her open her eyes to search his. Fear gripped her as she saw his jaws lengthen even more, opening to show two rows of saliva-dripping teeth. But the fear was nothing compared to the pain as he sank his teeth into her shoulder. She screamed, more from rage than from pain, and she struck out. Hitting him hard enough to force him off her, she rolled out of the bed and fell to the floor. He followed her, seizing her ankle as she tried to scramble away. Tried, but her body wouldn’t, couldn’t react fast enough. “Let go of me!” “Syd! Will you stop? What’s wrong with you?” “You bit me!” Mickale flipped her onto her back, straddled her, pinning her arms above her head. “Stop! I thought you agreed.” Dark eyes narrowed at her above normal, human lips and teeth. She slapped at him without doing any harm, but continued to struggle against his imprisoning hold. “Get off me, you beast!” “You agreed.”

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Exhaustion and the pain relievers finally won out and she stopped struggling. “What the hell are you talking about?” Mickale’s bewildered expression echoed the confusion ripping into her heart. “You agreed.” What was with this guy? “Will you stop saying that? Agreed to what? I didn’t agree to you biting me.” Although the fear was gone, the anger kept pumping through her veins; the only thing keeping her awake. “Why the hell did you bite me?” “Because you agreed.” He lifted her then, his hands gentle and loving as he placed her back on the bed. She blinked, trying to make her vision clear, but didn’t have much luck. His sharp features blurred more. “I swear I’m going to knee you in the balls if you say that one more time. J—just what do you think I, uh, agreed to?” Mickale’s mouth dropped open as his eyes slanted at her. “You really don’t remember? You agreed that you’re mine. So I marked you.” Silently she gave thanks for the meds and booze. Otherwise the shock of what he’d said would’ve given her a heart attack. “You marked me? Like branding some cow?” He lifted a hand to tunnel through her hair. “Right. Well, no. Not like a cow. More like a symbol, a sign to show we’re mated. You know. Like wedding rings for a man and his wife? Well, more like he-wolf and she-wolf. Mates as in Mommy and Daddy to the kids we’ll have someday.” Syd pushed up on her elbows and gaped at him. “Mates? Like in married? Like in ‘til death do we part?” “Now you’re getting the idea.” “And you’re a shifter?” Was he studying her? She couldn’t tell. “So you do know about shifters, huh? You realize I’m a werewolf? I assumed you did since you called me, but I wasn’t sure.” “Uh, huh.” She tried to determine what she thought about what had happened. But nothing came to her. No anger, no fear; nothing except a tiny bud of joy awakening inside her. “Syd? Are you okay?” His concern flowed over her like a cozy blanket, whisking away any other emotion than how wonderful his body fit next to hers. “Uh, huh.” She yawned and opened her eyes wide in an attempt to ward off sleep. He studied her for a moment and then nodded. “Good. You rest while I hunt down some bandages for the wound.” “Wound?” Why did her voice sound so odd? She squinted, trying to make Mickale’s face appear less fuzzy. “You’re all fussled.” His low, sexy chuckle tickled her ears. “I think you mean fuzzy. Don’t worry about anything. I’m here now.” The soothing sound of his voice blended with the swirling mist around her. Sighing, she closed her eyes, smiled, and let sleep take her. *****

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“Hi, sleepy head.” “Oh, crap. My head feels like a Gallagher watermelon.” “What kind of watermelon?” “It’s not a type of watermelon. I’m talking about the comic who bludgeons watermelons on stage.” Syd peeked one eye open, fearful to test both her corneas to the sunlight pouring through her bedroom window. When the light didn’t disintegrate her like Dracula’s bride caught on a tropical beach at high noon, she timidly peeked through the other one. “How much did you drink before I got here last night?” She turned her head in the direction of the voice, winced, and silently swore to never move again. “Do you have to yell?” Amazingly, the muscled back of the man sitting on the edge of her bed called to her nether regions, making it almost possible for her to ignore the millions of tiny drummers practicing behind her eyes. Or the hundreds of evil minions stabbing into her shoulder. Almost. She reached for the source of her pain; her hand coming to rest on a white bandage. “What the hell?” “I asked you how much you drank before I got here last night. And I am speaking in a normal tone of voice.” The man twisted around to gaze at her, the richness of his dark eyes matching the low timbre of his voice. Mickale. Syd tried to sit up, but failed as a stab ripped through her head, down her neck, and into her shoulder. “Ow. Oh, shit, please kill me now.” Great, Syd. Not exactly the wisest thing to say to a werewolf. Oh, holey moley, I made it with a werewolf. She giggled at the thought and winced when the movement sent flicks of a tiny whip across her forehead. Do not move. Do not speak. Do not breathe. “Is the pain bad?” The concern in his voice didn’t match the twinkle in his eyes. No. But the idea of I had sex with a shifter is. My father’s going to kill me and then I’ll know real pain. Syd accepted the water bottle from him, took a drink, and fought to understand the sensations flowing through her. It was true. She’d made love to a shifter. Granted, a very sexy, very cool shifter. But a shifter, all the same. Yet, hadn’t that been what she’d wanted? She remembered dragging him to the bedroom, so she couldn’t blame him. Wasn’t he the dream man she’d called for during the session with the medium? Wasn’t he exactly what she’d hoped for when she’d used the instructions in the guidebook? Maybe, once her head cleared, she should take another look at the book. For instructions. For help on how to handle a shifter. She froze as he lifted a large hand to track through her hair. Even that simple movement made the muscles in his arm dance as if calling her to a forbidden place of pleasure. Damn, but he’s gorgeous. Her heart thudded as a wave of lust sped up her pulse. How can I think of sex considering the shape I’m in? Yet when she saw the small patch of curly hair crawling from his navel past where his bare thigh hid his jewels, another thought chased the first one away. When a guy looks like that, how can I not think about sex? “I think it was the combination of the pain meds and wine that did me in.” She managed a watery smile before taking another cool sip. “Oh, I didn’t know about the pills.” He studied her as if trying to read her mind. “No wonder you conked out.”

Beverly Rae

36

Can shifters read minds? Lowering her eyes to shield her thoughts from him, she scooted to the other side of the bed and slipped out from underneath the covers. Naked. “Ugh! Why didn’t you tell me I didn’t have anything on?” The water bottle dropped as she tugged the bedspread in front of her body. “First of all, I assumed you knew. Second, I don’t see the problem.” Standing up, he spread his arms wide, showing off his nude form. His magnificent, rock-hard, nude form. Years of poor body image whacked her in the gut and she pulled the covers closer to hide her pudginess. Would he still want her now that he’d seen her extra fat in glorious, “nohiding in the dark” daylight? “After all, it’s not like we haven’t seen each other’s privates.” He waggled a finger at her and started moving toward her. “Trust me. I’ve seen and touched every inch of you. And tasted most of those inches, too.” He licked his lips at her. “Yum, yum, my sweet honey bun.” Warmth spread up her throat and into her face almost as fast as heat curled inside her belly. “Yeah, well.” Great comeback, Syd. Yet she couldn’t think of anything better to say. “Besides, we’re mated so what’s the big deal?” Mated? What the hell was this guy talking about? Yet a vague memory of the word floated in the back of her mind. A fresh throb struck her shoulder then, wheeling her around to face the mirror over the dresser. She leaned forward to examine the bandage better. “Why do I have a bandage on my shoulder? Did I hurt myself?” You already know the answers. You just don’t want to admit it. Let him tell you what happened. He leaned to the side and crooked his head to get a better look at her backside. “Sorry. I didn’t catch your question. The wiggle in your wagon got my attention when you hopped out of bed. Mmm, mmm, good, baby. My woman’s got back.” Catching him gawking at her, she repositioned the comforter around her J-Lo butt. “Watch it.” Yet she couldn’t squash the sizzle of happiness jumping for joy inside her. He likes my big butt? Wow, this guy keeps on getting better and better. “I’m trying, but I can’t if you’re going to hide your sexy ass.” She sneered at him even as part of her delighted in the second compliment. “Again. Why the bandage?” “You mean you don’t remember?” She wheeled on him then, tired of trying to find the answers in her fog-clogged mind. “Will you knock it off and just tell me? What happened last night?” She gaped at him, unable to understand why he appeared so hurt. “What’s the matter?” “You don’t remember.” He shook his head, furrowing his brow in contemplation. “I’ve never had a woman tell me she didn’t remember having sex with me. Hell, last night you claimed you had multiple orgasms. Now you can’t remember? I don’t buy it.” He snorted, scoffing at the idea. “I remember the sex part.” How could she ever forget? Last night was the most mindblowing, outrageous, wonderful sex she’d ever had. But somehow she didn’t think he needed her to boost his ego. “What I don’t remember is how I got hurt.” Yet, even as she said the words, she knew she lied. An image of long, pointed teeth sinking into her shoulder flashed through her mind. “Oh, my God.”

Kissin’ In The Moonlight

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His grin lit up his features, wiping away the earlier scowl. “You do remember, don’t you?” Taking a few steps closer to her, he held out his arms. “Come here, my little hottie of a matie. Let me lick you and make it all better.” Syd backed away, stunned as the memory of last night crystallized. “Oh, my God, you bit me!” Taking hold of the bandage, she ripped it off, careless of the sting from the wound and the tape. “You bit me!” Mickale stopped, keeping a short distance from her. “Of course I bit you. How else was I supposed to make you my mate? Shit, you’re acting as if I you didn’t want this. You called me, remember?” Anger and fear joined hands to squeeze her lungs between them. “You didn’t give me a choice. You just hauled off and bit me.” Now the anger she felt reflected back at her from his face. “Not again! You agreed, damn it. First you summoned me and then you agreed to mate. And now you’re trying to deny it? What the hell is wrong with you? Are you bipolar or psycho or something? Hell, I don’t need any of this!” Growling, he spun on his heel, scooped up his clothes lying at the foot of the bed, and stomped out of the bedroom. Syd heard the front door slam as tears flowed down her face. She was a shifter now. Mated to a shifter. Staring at her reflection in the mirror again, she considered the new life ahead of her. What would her new life be like? Thoughts of her body changing, shifting into a werewolf, raced through her imagination even as a shiver, one born of excitement instead of the expected revulsion, shook her. She wasn’t sure of what lay ahead, but she knew she’d never want a life without Mickale. Besides, she’d asked for this, hadn’t she? After all, she’d dreamed about him and made her dream come real. Then why was her stomach in knots? Because your family is a hunter family. Because they kill shifters. And that makes you and your new lover their enemies. Check that. It makes you and your new hubby their enemies! Amazed, she watched as a smile grew. She was happy. Once she got past the thoughts of her family and their reaction, she had to admit she was happy. She’d found her man. The one she’d known waited for her. The one she’d spend the rest of her life with, raise a family with, and love with all her soul. “They can never find out.” She imagined her mother’s kind face gazing at her as she tried to fathom telling her. “Mom might understand since she isn’t a real hunter. She only married one.” But her father would never understand. As she stared at her reflection, his harsh face scowled back at her like some wicked king in an enchanted mirror. “No way. He’ll never forgive me.” Groaning, she threw herself onto the bed and stared at the community theatre poster on the opposite wall. The theatre she’d joined last summer had produced the Shakespearean play, Romeo and Juliet, and Syd had relished portraying an older Juliet. But now she knew she hadn’t played the role to the fullest. How could she have? Until now, she hadn’t known what it truly felt like to be caught between two families and two worlds. Groaning, she rolled over onto her stomach, letting her groan evolve into a growl. “Get used to it, Syd. You’ll start baying at the moon soon.”

38

Beverly Rae

***** “Sydney, you gave me your word.” Syd surveyed the weapons spread out on the table before her. Why had she ever agreed to join a hunt? At the time, she’d assumed the hunt wouldn’t happen any time in the near future; something she could find a way to avoid when it came time. But since meeting, hell, mating with Mickale, going on a hunt had taken on a whole, new gruesome meaning. “Skeller folks keep their promises.” Why did her dad have a thing about promises? She sighed and picked up the smallest gun in the group. The rifle this group considered small weighed a ton in her inexperienced hands. “Damn, Dad, you know I don’t have any real firearms training. I’ll probably wind up shooting myself in the foot. Or worse, someone else in the head.” Skeller spat a wad of tobacco onto the cement floor of his basement. “Naw, you won’t. I taught you how to shoot when you were younger. It’ll come back to you natural-like. After all, you’re a—” “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m a Skeller.” Like being a Skeller had ever felt natural to her. Like shooting a shifter was in her blood. Maybe so, but now she had werewolf running through her veins, too. She couldn’t be expected to kill one of her new kind! “Okay, I’ll come along. But I think this is a huge mistake.” Bigger than he’ll ever know. With a satisfied grunt, Skeller swung a rifle over his shoulder and headed for the door. “Good. Let’s get going. We’ve got some shifters to skin.” “Great.” Syd grumbled a few expletives to add to her lack of enthusiasm as she followed her father to his truck. “Don’t you think you should’ve asked the other hunters if they minded me tagging along?” “Already did. Don’t worry, they know you’re a rookie.” He turned the key in the ignition and dashed Syd’s first hope of wiggling out of the hunt. As they traveled to the outskirts of town, she ran through several scenarios. Maybe she could throw her body from the truck, break a few bones, and have to go into the hospital? She frowned, dismissing the idea of physically hurting herself. Or maybe she could roll down the window and shout for help, claiming her dad was taking her by force? Although the plan appealed to her, she couldn’t allow anything bad to happen to her father, including his getting arrested. “I know you’re nervous about impressing your old man. But don’t worry about it. I’ll be proud of you whether you get a clean kill or not. Besides, I don’t mind if a werewolf suffers a bit before he dies.” “I thought werewolves never died. You know, like they’re immortal.” “Some say they are. But if you shoot them with a silver bullet, then they’ll die just like any other scum from Hell.” “And we’re using silver bullets?” He cackled, enjoying the conversation. “You betcha we are. Had them made special just for this night. The night when my daughter becomes the next Skeller hunter. See? I had them engraved with your initials. This way no one can doubt it was your bullet that killed the scum.”

Kissin’ In The Moonlight

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Perfect. Just perfect. Holding the steering wheel with one hand, he pinched a bullet out of his shirt pocket and held it up to her. Her heart sunk as she studied the initials “S. K. S.” in the shiny metal. “S. K. S. Sydney Kathryn Skeller. Fancy, huh?” “I’ll say.” Syd glanced at her father and wondered how clueless he actually was. She groaned and returned to gazing out the window. Where was Mickale, anyway? She hadn’t seen him for nearly two days since he’d stormed out of her apartment. When would he return? Would he return? She was his mate, right? So why didn’t he want to stay with her? And when he did come back, would she have to tell him she was born a hunter? Or worse, confess to shooting a shifter? No, she wouldn’t go that far to make her father happy. Someway, somehow, she’d get out of this mess. They drove through residential areas, past retail sections, and into a seedier side of the city. As the light faded behind the horizon, they pulled up to a deserted warehouse where a group of armed people stood waiting. Syd paused, racking her brain for one last chance to escape, found none, and then followed her father out of the truck. “About time, Skeller.” A stocky man, similar to her father in age and dress, shook his hand and scrutinized her. “This your girl?” “Sure is, Watts. Sydney’s ready for her first kill.” Syd winced at the proud note in her father’s answer. She hated the thought of disappointing him, but she had to think of way to get out of this hunt. Maybe if she fainted at the first sight of a werewolf? She discarded the idea, knowing he’d never believe she was so skittish. “She looks a little long in the tooth for her first hunt.” Gee, thanks, Watts. Syd shot him a hard look, making the seasoned hunter gulp. “Uh…but I’m glad you got here when you did. I picked up the scent of a couple of shifters and told the Bradfords to keep it quiet. Don’t want the whole group in on this. You know what a kill-hog Skanland can be. Come on, we gotta get a move on before the others pick up their scent and your girl loses her chance.” He pivoted, jogging into a nearby alley as a woman and a man, both dressed in army camouflage outfits, split off from the group to join him. Her father nodded at her, motioned for her to follow, and took off after his friend. She hesitated, then ran after her father. Syd followed the small group, zigzagging through dark alleyways and streets. After she’d almost given up on catching her breath, the woman in the lead halted and ducked into the shadows of the alley. Using hand signals to relay their intentions, the others hid behind boxes and other debris in the alley. Skeller tugged Syd along with him behind a Dumpster. She gagged at the smell coming from the garbage and opened her mouth to speak. But her father’s hand clamped down on her arm before she could make a sound. Holding a finger to his lips, he let his hand fall and nodded at the two figures walking toward them. Syd followed his lead and wished she was anywhere else. Oh, please tell me I don’t see who I’m seeing. She squinted at the man, trying to be certain, staring as his darkened image wavered and he tore off his clothes. Mickale’s naked body, a body she would have known anywhere, altered, changing into a beautiful black wolf.

Beverly Rae

40

“Oh, my God.” Syd gasped, thrilled by Mickale’s werewolf form. Wow. He’s gorgeous in either body. “I know. Seeing one for the first time is a shock. They’re disgusting, abominable creatures. But you’re lucky. Looks like you’re getting a pair. Probably mates.” Mates? She gawked at Mickale as cold, hard jealousy rammed her in the chest. Watching him playfully bump into the female didn’t help the anguish tearing her heart apart. Why that dirty, no-good hound! While I’d spent the past two days worrying, he’d spent them hotdogging it with some skanky bitch in heat! Her father’s harsh voice lowered another notch right before she sensed him raising his rifle to his shoulder. “Let’s take ‘em down.” Alarm grabbed her stomach and twisted, making her plea louder than she’d anticipated. “No, please!” Skeller and his friends shushed her, glaring at her as if she’d lost her mind. She swallowed to dislodge the lump sitting at the bottom of her throat and whispered, “I mean, this is my kill, right? Dad, you promised.” A wide grin leapt across his face as he raised his hand, palm down, signaling the Bradfords and Watts to lower their rifles. “That’s my girl. Everyone, firearms down. My little girl’s about to get her first wolf hide.” He turned his palm upward to pump his hand up and down, urging her to shoot. What the hell do I do now? Syd slowly lifted her gun to her shoulder as she glanced around for anything to distract them. What am I worried about? I probably couldn’t hit them if I tried. But maybe by accident… Nothing helped as Mickale and the woman, now in wolf form, too, drew closer to their deaths. “Come on, girl. What’re you waiting for?” The frustration in Skeller’s voice made her own turmoil greater. “Shush.” What else could she say? Gee, Dad, I can’t kill this werewolf. I slept with him and now I’m his mate. Don’t ya want to hear some little paws running around the house at Christmas? Oh, did I forget to mention that he’s changed me into a shifter, too? “She doesn’t have the balls, Skeller.” Watts scoffed at her and lifted his rifle to rest on his arm. “I’m not waiting any longer.” Without warning, he aimed and fired. The she-wolf yelped as the bullet hit her in the rear flank sending her crashing to the ground. Mickale wheeled toward the alley and snarled at Watts. Growling, he pivoted and nudged the female with his nose, urging her to stand and run. She took off in the opposite direction, blood running down her left leg. “Hurry, Sydney, you’re losing them!” Her father ran over to the Bradford couple and knocked their guns down. “No. I promised her she’d have the kill.” Turning back to Syd he yelled, “Now, Sydney! Shoot him!” At the mention of her name, Mickale spun around to face her. As his eyes locked onto her, Syd swore she could see the pain and betrayal in them. The same pain and betrayal she’d experienced when she’d seen him playing with the female. As if in a dream, she positioned her rifle on her shoulder and aimed. The shot rang out in the alley, zipping past Mickale. He roared, a furious sound, and lunged behind the nearest Dumpster. Syd’s pulse pounded in her ears as she tried to steady her breathing.

Kissin’ In The Moonlight

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“Go! Get after him. You’ve got him cornered.” Her father’s excited voice spurned her into action, giving her the kernel of a plan. “Watts, Bradfords! Go after the female! You get that lowdown, slutty bitch.” The three hesitated, confused by her description of the she-wolf, then ran down the alley and across the parking lot, in the direction the she-wolf had taken. Her father, however, started toward the Dumpster. “No. Wait.” He turned and gestured to her. “Don’t worry. He’s all yours. I’ll just make sure nothing goes wrong.” She strode over to him and grabbed his arm. “Please, Dad, I want to do this on my own. I’m pretty sure I wounded him.” He searched her face, wanting a clearer explanation but, in the end, he gave her the excuse she needed. “Oh, I get it. The first kill is special and you want to do it all on your own. Sure, sweetie. No problem. I’ll check on the others and get right back to you.” With a quick salute, he started after his friends. Syd let out a small sigh of relief until he turned back to her. “Yes?” “You’re positive you can handle this by yourself?” She smiled and sent him the best assurance she could. “I’m a Skeller, aren’t I?” “You bet you are.” He saluted again and jogged away. Syd waited until she couldn’t make out her father’s form any longer before calling out. “Mickale, it’s okay. They’re gone.” For a second, she thought she really had wounded him and he couldn’t move. But then she heard the unmistakable noise of someone moving through discarded cans and broken bottles. As he rounded the Dumpster, she watched him shift from wolf to man. The knot of desire hit her full-throttle in the stomach. “That is one helluva trick.” “Yeah, well, it comes in handy.” He stood, hands on his hips, confusion fighting with anger on his features. “I think you need to explain. What the hell are you doing with a gun? And shooting at me? And why are you with hunters?” She shifted the heavy rifle into the crook of her elbow and scowled back at him. “Excuse me? I need to explain? What about you? Here I’m wondering where the hell you’ve been and I find you out sniffing around some female? Whose mate are you, anyway?” His arrogant laugh tightened her spine as her anger increased. “You’re accusing me of cheating on you? After throwing a fit about my mating with you? And while you’re out roaming the streets with hunters? Are you serious?” “I know what I saw. You and Miss Canine USA were quite chummy. Who knows what would’ve happened if I hadn’t come along. Hell, you’d probably have gotten her on all fours and doggied it with her big time, right?” Why wasn’t he acting guilty? Damn it, she had a right to be pissed! Didn’t she? “If I had wanted her, I would’ve had her.” He pointed his chin at her defiantly and swiveled, placing his back to her. “Now if you’re through huffing and puffing like some jealous pup guarding a bone, I’d like to get dressed.” “Stop right there.” Taking a deep breath, she placed the gun to her shoulder and aimed it straight at his head.

Beverly Rae

42

He turned around with a snarl on his face that faded as his jaw dropped wide. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Her lips twitched as the mischievous grin lifted the tips of her mouth. Mimicking her father’s gruff voice, she quipped, “I’m shooting me a shifter.”

43

Kissin’ In The Moonlight

Chapter Four “You’re kidding, right?” Mickale fisted his hands on his hips and slammed his jaw closed to punch his words between gritted teeth. “Put the gun down, Syd, before you accidentally hurt someone. Someone like me.” Syd snickered, the corner of her lips twitching upward as if the idea of shooting him was pleasant. She wasn’t serious, was she? A quiver of fear zipped through him as she continued to point the business end of the rifle at him. “Like I said, ‘I’m shooting me a shifter.’” Her evil smirk dipped into a frown. “And a low-life, scum-sucking cheater at the same time. That way I’ll use one bullet for two dirty dogs.” Now he knew she had to be kidding. Or at least, he hoped so. He decided to test the waters and took a step forward. Both the loud report of the gunshot and the gravel flying up at his feet sent him jumping up and backwards. “Are you crazy, woman?” Okay, it was one thing to want a little revenge for a perceived wrong, but it was altogether something different to take it to these lengths. “Shit, Syd, I appreciate you aiming in front of my feet instead of my head, but don’t you think it’s time to stop playing around?” She arched one eyebrow. “That’s not the head I wanted to blow off. Thank your lucky stars I’m a lousy shot.” Mickale swallowed and tried to read her unfathomable expression. Maybe he needed to take a different approach? “Syd, baby, you’ve got this all wrong.” Crap, did that sound as lame as I think it did? Like something one of those cheating husbands on television would say? She coughed a short bark of a laugh. “Oh, do I? Really?” He took a small step forward and stopped as she raised the rifle again. “Yeah, you do. Rachel, the female you saw with me, is an old friend of mine.” “Oh, I see. An old friend. Are you sure she’s not your niece? Or maybe your long-lost sister?” He had a bad feeling he wouldn’t be able to easily convince her Rachel wasn’t his lover, but he had to keep trying. After all, his father, Brogan, always said the only thing worse than a hunter packing iron was an angry female toting a loaded gun. “You think maybe we could discuss this somewhere else? Somewhere where your hunter friends won’t come along and put a few holes in my body? You know, my handsome, “talented in bed” body you enjoyed a few nights ago?” He looked in the direction the hunters had gone and prayed he’d hear or smell them coming before they saw him. Fortunately, his senses told him they weren’t nearby. “Nope. I think this place is as good as any. What I’m wondering is how many others have enjoyed your wonderful body since I did.” At least she’d lowered the gun to cradle it in the crook of her elbow. “I swear she’s a friend and nothing more. Besides, what about you, huh?” He let the anger he’d held in check leak into his voice. “What the hell are you doing running around with hunters?”

Beverly Rae

44

Ah, that little wince told him he’d cracked her armor. Now if he had a crowbar he’d crank that opening wider than the Grand Canyon. And then the crack crashed shut as she straightened up and planted her feet wide apart. Hell’s fire! “None of your damn business, Mr. Morgan. Who I pal around with while you’re off panting after other women isn’t any of your say-so.” “Pal around? Is that what you call shifter hunting?” He was good and pissed now and ready to end this insane conversation. “Look. If you don’t want to believe me about Rachel, then don’t. For once in my life, I’m telling the absolute truth about not fooling around. Once I found you, mated with you—” He jabbed his index finger at her. “And we are mated, damn it—I stopped messing with other females. If you asked anyone who knows me, they’ll tell you my settling for one woman is nothing less than a friggin’ miracle.” He watched her bite her lower lip in thought and paused long enough to let his words sink in good and hard. When she started to speak, he forged ahead with his offensive. “I haven’t contacted you in a couple of days because I wanted you to cool down and think about what’s happened between us. But trust me. I’ve found you and I’m not ever leaving you. At least, not for good.” His preternatural speed allowed him to reach her side before she could react. Placing his hand on top of the barrel, he pushed the weapon down to her side and removed his hand to bring it to her cheek. Staring into her glittery blue eyes, he asked, “Make the decision. Do you believe me or not? ‘Cause we don’t have time to fart around like this.” She searched him, spiraling into his eyes and down into his soul, but he wasn’t afraid of what she’d find. Who knew telling the truth could feel so good? He smiled at her and waited. At last, the hard expression on her face softened as she released a pent-up sigh. “I believe you.” “Good.” Taking the gun from her, he laid it on the ground next to him, straightened up to scrutinize her, and adopted a Chicago-style gangster accent. “Now, schweetheart, it’s your turn to explain. Why is my mate running with hunters? Say it ain’t so, doll.” She lowered her eyes from his and his stomach tightened up. Anytime someone couldn’t look him in the face was a bad omen. And she kept averting her eyes no matter how he twisted around to look her in the eyes. Crap, this is gonna be bad. Real bad. “Syd, spill it. Trust me. The truth, blunt and cold, is the best way.” She made an odd sound in her throat and brought her gaze to meet his. “You’re not going to like it.” “I already don’t like it.” Yet she smiled such a sweet, tentative smile that he had to resist pulling her to him and telling her everything would be all right. “I made a commitment to one of them to go along on a hunt.” He waited for her to expand on her incredulous statement, but she didn’t. “So you’re out hunting shifters because you made a promise to someone?” When she nodded, he continued, “I’m assuming, no, hoping, you made this promise before we met, right?” Again, she nodded. “Here’s a thought. Why didn’t you break your promise and say you couldn’t go? You know, because the new man in your life wouldn’t like having his kind hunted down and killed?” When she still didn’t answer, he took her arms and gave her a little shake. “Or is this because of some guy?” Please, don’t let this have anything to do with another man.

Kissin’ In The Moonlight

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“In a way. I made the promise to a very special man.” The words “very special man” sent one pain into his gut and another into his chest. He wasn’t sure which was worse—the jealous twist in his gut or the stab of hurt in his heart. He ignored both pains as much as he could and kept going on automated mode. “You mean there’s someone else in your life? You already have someone you love?” Please, let her say no. But he steeled himself for the answer he didn’t want to hear. “Yes, I do love him.” Even though he’d prepared himself for such an answer, he nearly doubled over from the kick to his gut. No, she can’t do this to me. To us. We’re meant for each other. Destined as mates. She blinked a couple of times, catching onto the troubled ideas coursing through him, and shook her head. “No, Mickale, it’s not what you’re thinking. The man I’m talking about is my father.” The searing hurt ripping through his body stopped in one quick flush of relief only to be replaced by a numbing coldness. “Your father is a hunter?” Part of him wanted to dance around her, acting like a fool so she’d laugh and say it was all a joke. The other part of him fought to keep the rage controlled. He let go of her arms and stepped back from her. “Your family’s a bunch of shifter hunters?” Now the pain he’d experienced leapt from him into her. He could see it in her eyes and the way her face fell. “My dad’s a hunter, yes.” She stepped closer and, amazingly, he found he didn’t want to get farther away from her. Not even if she had hunter blood running through her veins. “My mom isn’t one, though.” “And you? Have you killed…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. And didn’t want her to, either, but knew she would. “No.” She grinned at him, made a pistol with her index finger and thumb, and pointed it at him. “But I came damn close tonight.” She took one look at his face and lost all her humor. “I’ve never wanted to and I never will. Well, okay, a few minutes ago I could’ve plugged a hole into Rachel.” He hugged her to him, pulling her body close to his nude one, even as his mind ran wild trying to comprehend what she’d told him. Her father’s a hunter? Can I take a hunter’s daughter for my mate? Except I already have. But how will I explain this to my own family? Mickale chuckled imagining the expression on his father’s face when he introduced him to his mate. “Yo, Dad. Remember when you told me to find an acceptable mate? The perfect female who our beliefs always said would call to me? Well, it seems ole Fate has a sense of humor.” Yep, Brogan would shit a brick. “I know you wouldn’t.” He sniffed the strawberry fragrance of her hair and committed it to memory. “Don’t worry about anything. We’ll sort it all out later.” “Uh, Mickale?” He didn’t care what his family or pack said. He loved her and that’s all that mattered. “Yeah?” “Do you have your own gun or are you just—” “Happy to see you?” He leaned back to study her bemused face. “Nope, no gun. And yeah, I am.” Her sparkling eyes met his and any uncertainty was swept away in her deep blue oceans. He’d make their union work and screw anyone who tried to keep them apart.

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“Mickale, they’re going to return in a few minutes. My father won’t let them go too far away from me.” Mickale whirled from her to race over and gather up his clothes. “Then let’s get out of here.” He scrambled to pull on his jeans and yank his shirt over his head. The loud pop of a gunshot brought him up short as he held his breath waiting to feel warm blood running down his skin. When he realized he was unharmed, he stuck his head through the neck of his shirt and gaped at Syd. “What’re you shooting at?” “You.” She tossed her curly locks as she raised the rifle in the air and squeezed off another shot. The crack sent shivers up Mickale’s body. “I’ve got to kill a shifter tonight or my father’s going to harp at me until I do.” Jerking on his running shoes, he hopped over to her. “I hope you’re not expecting me to play dead while your dad tries to skin my hide.” “Not exactly.” Syd jogged over to a manhole in the street and started tugging on the cover. “I’m going to tell him I mortally wounded you, but you got away in the sewers.” Pride swelled in Mickale’s chest as he listened to Syd’s idea. He’d gotten lucky. His mate wasn’t merely beautiful, she was intelligent and tricky, too. His perfect woman. “Syd, darlin’, I like how you think.” He strode over to the manhole and slid it to the side. Rising to face her, he took Syd’s face in his hands and put his lips lightly on top of hers. She fell toward him, clutching him to her with her free hand as his tongue played along the slight part of her lips. Their bodies heated up in seconds and he longed to pull her back into the alley and make love to her. Make love? When had he ever thought of sex as ‘making love’? She pulled back less than an inch from his mouth and whispered, “There’s one thing I’d like to know.” He breathed in the sweet aroma of her breath. “What’s that, darlin’?” She tilted her head as if readying to kiss him again. “Why can’t you guys make your clothes disappear into air when you change into wolf form? You know, like in the movies? No one ever found Superman’s clothes in the phone booth, you know.” Now where the hell had that come from? “We’re getting all nice and cozy, and you want to talk wardrobes?” Her bemused expression had him biting his tongue to keep from laughing. “It’d be a lot more convenient. Besides, once I start going all wolfie I don’t like the idea of dropping my good clothes on the dirty street. You’re magical creatures, right? So why can’t you make your clothes come and go at will? Or is this some kind of wardrobe malfunction?” He let his laugh out, echoing around the empty street. “I’ll be sure to talk to the pack’s brainiacs about the problem and ask them to come up with some faery dust or something.” “Ooh, I like faery dust.” “Sydney!” Syd and Mickale swiveled together to peer in the direction of the voice. “Sydney!” Facing each other, he could see the anxiety in her stiffened features. “It’s my dad.” She shoved him toward the manhole. “Get going. They can’t see you.”

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He lurched back to her, grabbed her by both arms, and gave her a quick kiss. “Okay, good luck. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With a wink, Mickale lowered his body into the hole and half-slid, half-climbed down the ladder. Sewer stench assaulted his nose as his feet splashed into an inch of filthy water. Yellow, beady eyes glared at him as the rats scattered away into the dimly lit tunnel and he swiped at a nearby spider web. He paused for a moment to study the tunnel going in two perpendicular directions before starting to call to Syd. He closed his mouth when he detected a new scent near Syd. “Sydney, girl, are you all right?” Mickale held his breath as the gruff voice drifted down to him. “I’m fine, Dad.” “What happened to the vermin?” Vermin? Mickale sneered at the unseen man, and edged away from the light filtering in from the hole. “I shot him, Dad. He’s a goner. He was behind the Dumpster and I shot him.” “Then where’s the body?” “He managed to crawl over to this manhole and fall inside, but not before I put another bullet in him. He’s dead or close to it, I’m certain.” A scuffling noise as someone moved the manhole cover sent Mickale into one of the tunnels. “Let’s go down and get him. You gotta have the hide to mount on the wall. Everybody mounts their first kill.” Agreement came from two other voices, a male and female. “No! Uh, no, Dad. It’s okay. He’s probably long gone by now. I don’t want it anyway.” “What? No hide?” A low chuckle followed the confused questions. “Just like your mother, huh? You don’t want animal carcasses on the walls, either, I bet. Well, if you’re sure…” “I’m sure.” Mickale heard the relief in Syd’s voice and he hoped her father wouldn’t notice. If he did, he might get suspicious of her story. “Have it your way. But I wouldn’t mind hanging it on—” “Dad, what happened with the other shifter? Did you…did you kill her?” She’s asking about Rachel because she knows I want to know. Mickale shifted, allowing his ears to heighten their sensitivity. “Damn Watts screwed up my shot.” “I did not. Stop blaming me, Skeller. Can I help it if you can’t hit a grown bitch from ten feet away?” “You bumped me and you know it, you shithead. You wanted the kill for yourself so you bumped me to throw off my aim.” “Like hell I did. My gun wasn’t even at the ready.” “Don’t matter none. You still didn’t want me to shoot.” The men’s voices grew louder as the argument continued. By the sounds he heard, the two men scuffled a bit and Mickale couldn’t help but hope the two would get into a fist fight.

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As the shifter saying went, “The only thing dumber than one hunter is two hunters together.” Syd, however, had other ideas. “Stop. Both of you. Whatever happened is done. Forget about it.” Both men grumbled like sulking two-year-old children. Mickale held his breath and waited out the silence. If only he could see what was going on! Feet shuffled as the people above Mickale moved away and her father’s voice grew fainter. “It’s official. My little girl’s made her first kill.” Cheers sprang up praising Sydney on her victory. Mickale tried to imagine the scene of his female getting slapped on the back and congratulated for shooting him. Oh, sure, a lot of females in his player past would have loved to have shot and skinned him, but the one who’d actually had a chance to do it had saved his sorry butt. He grinned as he thought about their situation. Mickale Morgan head over heels in love with a hunter’s daughter. Who’d have believed it? He waited a few more minutes until the only sounds he heard came from the night creatures within the sewer system. Satisfied the hunters were gone, he started down the tunnel. ***** Syd woke up with a start and sat straight up in her bed. Had she dreamed about hunting Mickale or had last night really happened? Glancing around her cheerful bedroom with its poppy-covered wallpaper, she could easily believe in the dream. Until her eyes fell on the clothes draped over the arm chair in the corner of the room. Dirt and grime from the alley covered her t-shirt and jeans, and she could almost smell the gunpowder lingering on them all the way from her bed. “Mickale.” Although she’d said his name out loud as a result of her memory of him, the way it came out made the name sound like more of a call. Could she call him to her again? Could she call him by herself or would she need Madame Medusala’s help again? And the big question still remained. Would he come? The sound of the doorbell startled her out of her reverie. She slid out from between the covers, grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed and headed for the front door. Without checking through the peephole, she swung the door open, ready to greet the man she sensed stood on the other side. “Mickale.” This time she said his name with all the love she’d kept safely hidden away in her heart. At last, she knew the man she’d waited for and dreamed about every night. He stood before her with his glorious, devil-may-care grin on his face and his hard form tucked into a navy, pin-striped suit. The white silk of his shirt set off his dark tan, bringing her gaze to the “V” of the collar as a few black hairs teased their way above his shirt. His shoulder-length black hair, made to appear even blacker with the one white streak running down the side, was brushed back from his face to dance around his broad shoulders as he tilted his head to gaze at her with that intense examining way of his. The scar along his jaw, so dangerous and erotic, called to her, tempting her to run her finger along its rough line. But it was his eyes, so dark and knowing, that grabbed her and kept her bound to him.

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“Syd.” His tone echoed hers and she knew he felt the same way. He took the hand she held out. Knowing she didn’t need to say anything, she turned and headed back to her bedroom. Once inside, she dropped her robe to the floor and, for the first time, realized she’d worn her favorite torn and ragged nightshirt to bed. Embarrassed, she started to pick up her robe when Mickale’s hand on her wrist stopped her. “You’re beautiful.” His words, so simple and sincere, caught in her heart and she dared to meet his eyes with hers. She placed a hand on her chest and stammered, “T-this thing is so ugly. Let me change.” “No. I don’t care what you wear. You’d make a garbage sack look sexy.” His smile flowed over her and she sighed, comforted by his words. With a wink, he added, “Besides, you won’t be wearing it much longer.” In one swift motion, he gathered the material in his hand and pulled the nightshirt over her head. She stood, shy again, in her plain cotton panties as his hot gaze slid over her. In part to cover her shyness, she reached for his jacket and slid it from his shoulders. Before his jacket hit the floor, her anxious hands started working on his buttons. He brought her closer as she finished with his shirt and started on his belt buckle, nuzzling her neck with light kisses. Kicking off his loafers, he allowed her to take care of the rest of his clothes. She giggled as he nipped her shoulder on the spot where her wound was almost healed and helped him step out of his slacks. “So you go bare-butt under your clothes?” His manhood stood at attention, already straining against the white material of her panties. Mickale growled a low, sexy moan and ran his hand down her back and under her underwear to grip her round bottom. “Maybe you should take a clue from me, huh? Then I’d have one less thing to take off you.” She tilted back her head as his lips skimmed along her collarbone to pause in the hollow of her neck. She’d never known how hot kisses could be until Mickale gave her his. “I suppose you’re one of those sexist pigs who like their women naked and barefoot at home.” His laugh tickled her skin as he moved his head to lick her pebbled nipple. “Well, I do like the naked part. But I’m no pig. Eat pigs, yes. Am one, no.” Her underwear lay on the floor at her feet and she kicked it away from her. Funny how she hadn’t noticed when he’d slid them off her. But she didn’t have time to wonder as he led her to the bed and laid her on top of the covers. Her heartbeat doubled as she watched him crawl over her, his long, lean body as graceful as any feline predator. She stifled a giggle at the thought of comparing a wolf to a cat—she wasn’t about to tell him—but not before he caught her looking. “I’m hoping it’s not my body you find amusing. Or are you trying hard not to laugh at something I did?” The intensity in his expression made the idea even more humorous and she couldn’t control the titter that slipped from her. He straightened his arms on either side of her head to lift his body away from hers. “Okay, now I really am getting paranoid. What’s so funny? And be careful. I have a very fragile ego.”

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“Like all men do.” She laughed again, unable to stop herself. “Then I’d better not tell you.” He narrowed his eyes at her before glancing off to the side and back. “Well, if you’re going to play games, I guess I’ll just have to force it out of you.” In one swift motion, he snatched up the belt hanging over the edge of the headboard, clutched her hands together above her head, and wrapped the leather around her wrists. “Hey! No fair!” She struggled, but he rested his body weight on top of her, pinning her to the bed. “Mickale, I was just playing around.” Once he’d finished wrapping the belt around her wrists, he tightened the belt, holding her hands powerless. Adopting a guttural accent, he quipped, “Very well, my dear. We’ll see how long you can keep a secret. You are powerless against my interrogation skills.” The man was full of surprises; she had to give him credit. “I’m going to buck you off, you know.” She moved her hips up and down, twisting as much as she could to the side to try and throw him off. But nothing worked and she didn’t care. She couldn’t help but enjoy how his cock throbbed next to her abdomen. “Oh, ho! Buck, baby, buck. I like it when you play rough.” The wicked gleam in his eyes twinkled at her. “Are you ready to tell me?” She’d pegged him for a funny guy, but she hadn’t known how fun he really was. Until now. “No. No way. I don’t care how much you torture me.” She grinned up at him and stuck out her tongue just for the hell of it. “Is that so, my pretty?” He paused for moment, putting his finger to his lips. “Hmm, let’s see. I have two ways of torturing my captives. Which one should I use on you?” Fluttering her eyelashes at him, she hoped she knew of one of the ways. “I don’t want to give you any ideas, of course, but I tend to spill my guts after a good, er, I mean, terrible tongue-lashing.” Ooh, please, oh, please, let him lash me until I scream for mercy. He ran his tongue slowly over his upper lip. “That is one way.” He stopped to bend over and nip at her taut bud. “And I do enjoy such a method of questioning prisoners.” “I’ll bet you’re quite skilled at it, too.” He tweaked her other nipple and sent shivers racing through her. “But I’m thinking you’re a tough soldier, so I’d better use the other method.” Could the other method include pumping her brains out? Or maybe riding her from behind until she screamed his name? If she was lucky, it would. “What’s the other method?” He smiled a wicked smile and bent over to flick his tongue over her breast. She blew out a puff of air and closed her eyes. He continued to suckle her tit while his hand slid down her stomach to stop right above the cleft between her legs. “Do you really want to know, my beautiful prisoner?” With her eyes still shut, she managed to squeak out a single word. “Yes.” “Very well. Here it is.” “It’s about time. A girl could die from all this sexual teasing and—Holy shit!” Mickale ran his fingertips up her sides and straight into her armpits. Wiggling his fingers, he tickled her until she started shrieking with laughter. “Mic-kale! Stop! No, don’t.” “Don’t stop? Then tell me.”

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She yelled so hard tears started streaming down her cheeks. “No! You know what I meant.” Moving to one side of her, he grabbed her leg and trapped it under his while he continued to tickle her armpit. Securing her leg, he twisted his torso around and started moving his fingertips lightly along the bottom of her foot. “Eek! Stop! I can’t stand it!” If he didn’t stop soon, she was going to laugh so hard she might wet the bed. “Tell me, Syd, and I’ll stop.” “No, I won’t!” “Tell me.” “No! Oh, please! I can’t breathe.” He stopped long enough for her to catch her breath. “Are you okay?” Still giggling, she gulped in air before answering. “I’m okay.” Could she stand much more? Looking at the glint in his eye gave her the answer she needed. No. “Tell me what you thought was so funny.” He held up his hands and wiggled his fingers as if they were lethal weapons. “Or else.” When he started to tickle her again, she had to give in. “Okay, okay, stop. I’ll tell you.” “Good.” He dropped his German accent, stopped his torture and leaned closer to her. “Go ahead.” Should she really tell him? But she didn’t think she had any other choice. “It’s not a big thing. You reminded me of a cat with your slinky, graceful movements and I thought it was funny that a canine, a wolf, would remind me of a feline.” She watched him, uncertain of his reaction. “That’s it? That’s what you found so amusing?” He sat on his heels and gaped at her. “You’re easy to amuse, aren’t you? But why not tell me?” “I don’t know. I guess since you didn’t like my referring to pussy juice—” He cringed as she said the words. “I thought you might not like being compared to a cat. It just seemed funny to me.” “You’ve got a strange sense of humor, you know that?” He scrunched up his features at her before turning it into a grin. “Excuse me, but I’ve had people tell me I have a great sense of humor. What’re you doing?” Mickale stopped working on loosening the belt and stared at her. “I’m letting you go, of course.” She rolled her eyes and made a face. “Uh, duh. Don’t you think you ought to torture your prisoner a little while longer? You know, for the fun of it?” When he still didn’t catch her meaning, she widened her eyes and shot him an exasperated look. “Hello? Earth to Mickale. I know you got your answer with the first method but why not try the other method of torture? Who knows what stuff you’ll find out with the more, shall we say, invasive technique.” His eyebrows lowered between his eyes even as the corners of his mouth tweaked upward. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you. You know, by leaving you tied up too long. It’s not like this belt is lined with fur.” She pffed at him and glared at him. “Have I complained so far?”

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“Well, no. But you know I’ll turn you loose if you ask, right?” The concern on his face softened her playful mood. “I know. But I don’t want you to untie me yet.” The naughty little gleam she’d come to love leapt back into his eyes. “Oh, I see. Well, then here’s the deal. I’ll torture you this time on two conditions.” “Yeah?” “First you promise to tie me up and torture me sometime soon.” Yep, this man is perfect for me. “Agreed. What’s the second condition?” His concentrated look seared straight into her soul. “Second, you admit you’re my mate. You admit we belong together.” A rush of love mixed with the lust already ripping through her body. She blinked once and nodded. “Say the words, Syd.” Wetting her lips, she gave him what he wanted. “You’re my mate and we belong together. Now, do as I say and start torturing me.” A gleam, hot and lustful, sparked in his eyes as he straddled her again. She stared, transfixed, as those glittery eyes clouded over with desire and his mouth parted just enough for his tongue to peek out. With more control than she could ever hope to have, he reached both hands up in slow motion toward hers and she couldn’t decide whether to follow his hands or soak in the view of his massive chest rising above her. “Mickale?” He shook his head, ordering her to silence with his gesture. She jumped as his fingers touched her wrists and, with a deliberate slowness, skimmed his palms along her arms. She sucked in a breath, held it, and watched as his gaze followed his hands down, down, to her shoulders. He paused, glanced at her with an expression she couldn’t read, and slid his palms simultaneously down over her collarbone and around the sides of her breasts. She released her breath and arched, hoping to invite his hands to the top of her breasts. Instead his hands ran over her ribcage until they met his thighs as he kept his body inches from hers. She bit her lip as she watched the muscles in his legs strain to hold him upright in position and waited as he rested his hands on his legs. Syd broke her gaze away from his lower torso to raise her eyes to his and caught a glimpse of indecision. “What? Why are you stopping?” Mickale brought a finger to his lips to quiet her and lowered his eyes. Taking his shaft in one hand, he began to make long, powerful strokes. Her mouth flushed with saliva as the craving for him rushed through her. “Mickale, untie me. Let me—” Again, he silenced her with a finger and she moaned to protest the command. Yet the desire, the need she felt at that moment was nothing compared to the ache she experienced when his other hand snaked into the crevice between her legs. Her head jerked up and her hands strained at the belt as she tried to watch his movements. A burn, hotter, whiter than she’d ever known swept through her body as he worked his thumb over her nub. She moaned as her first climax thundered through her body and she responded instinctively to her release. Closing her eyes, she whipped her head back and forth

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as her body kept climbing, shaking her, breaking what little hold she had on control. Who needed control when freedom felt so good? After another climax, she cried out his name and he released her. She cried again, this time in protest, and snapped her eyes open in frustration. She shouldn’t have worried. Mickale slammed his mouth into hers, groaning his blistering breath into her mouth, as his tongue stroked hers, soaking up her juices. She kissed him back with as much fervor as he attacked her and felt the bed rock as he moved his legs between hers. Syd’s mind stopped working. She sensed the need to react without thought, as Mickale’s name echoed inside her head. His strong hands gripped her bottom as she wrapped her legs around his hips and opened for him. Sweat ran off him and onto her as he pumped into her, moving in fluid rhythmic thrusts. She felt as if she was watching the waves tumble and grow higher as they rushed to shore during a storm. She knew he would soon reach his zenith and his release would break over her. Oh, how she longed to clutch his body to hers! She strained at the belt, wanting to be free now, yet enjoying the experience of giving Mickale full control. She gritted her teeth as yet another roll of desire coursed through her and his body tensed up. With a growl, he lifted up to gaze at her, his face a mix of pain and pleasure. Fangs slipped over his lower lip and, unlike before, she longed to have him sink them into her. Instead, he let his head fall backwards. He roared as his climax shuddered through him. Mickale fell to the side of her, his breaths coming in panted bursts to match her own. She stared, fascinated, as his fangs receded and disappeared. “Mickale?” “Hmm?” “Could you untie me now?” His eyes popped open as he twisted onto his side. “Oh, shit, I forgot. Sorry, but you can’t blame me for forgetting once I’m in the middle of everything.” Waggling his eyebrows at her, he pushed up and started to work on the belt. “Remember, next time, you tie me up.” “And maybe next time you’ll remember to lock your front door.” Syd gasped as she whipped her head toward the bedroom door. “Mom! What’re you doing here?”

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Chapter Five “Did you say Mom?” At Mickale’s question, Sydney glanced at him and made an apologetic face. “Uh, yeah.” Within seconds, she transformed from a grown woman back into the fifteen-year-old girl who’d gotten caught necking with Johnny Roman in Washington High School’s Audio Visual room. Her mother had arrived at the school less than half an hour later. After a cool discussion with the principal, she’d had “Hell to pay” at home. Mickale scrambled from the bed, taking the bedspread with him and leaving the sheet to cover Syd’s body. She tugged the thin material to her neck and turned to her mom. “Uh, Mom, I, uh—” “I knocked, but no one answered. Then I heard strange noises, so I got worried and came on in.” Frosty blue eyes, a shade lighter than her own, flicked back and forth between Syd and Mickale. I’ll let you two pull yourselves together while I brew a cup of tea.” With a curt nod, Syd’s mother pivoted on her heel and left. The sound of Mickale’s chuckle swiveled her head in his direction. “Are you kidding me?” She gaped at him as he doubled over in laughter. “What about this do you find funny? Please tell me because right now I could use a good laugh.” He pointed in the direction of the door and sputtered out an explanation. “You. Your mother. Us.” “Oh yeah, real funny. How’d you like it if your father found us like this?” If she clenched her fists any tighter, she’d dig holes into her palms. Mickale dropped the cover and started pulling on his clothes. “My old man would probably shoot me a thumb's up for landing such a sexy lady. At least until he found out about your family.” As it dawned on her that he was getting dressed, Syd scrambled out of the bed and hurriedly gathered her clothes. “Figures. One sexist pig applauding another sexist pig. And my family’s not going to think much of your family either.” Mickale’s finger pointed at her nose. “Hey! I already told you. I’m not a sexist pig. Sexist wolf, yes. Pig, no.” His prideful expression lifted her dour mood and made her relax—a little. “I remember. But wasn’t it sexiest wolf?” “That, too.” He winked at her, making the knot in her stomach loosen a little. “Are you two joining me or do I have to watch another porn movie?” “Yep, she’s your mother all right. Same sarcastic wit.” “Shut up.” Syd’s eyes grew wide as her mother’s voice brought back her embarrassment. “Coming, Mom.” Mickale slipped on his shoes and feigned a bemused expression. “Wow, I am good. I’m just standing here and I made you—”

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“Mickale!” Someone save her from a hilarious shifter! Syd slapped him playfully and shot him a “you better be good” look. She steeled herself for her mother’s reaction, and headed out of the bedroom. Her mom, dressed like the typical suburban housewife in blue crop pants, a white sleeveless cotton shirt and white strappy sandals, waited for them on the living room sofa. Syd slowed her approach to allow Mickale to catch up with her. Together they stood in front of her mother and waited for whatever came next. With her usual style and grace, her mother sipped her tea and cringed at the taste. “I don’t know why I try microwaving a bag of tea because it never tastes right. But I was in a rush and too impatient to wait for the water to boil. Besides, there’s already too much heat in this place.” She glanced up, shot them a pointed look, and lowered her eyes. Score another one for dear old mom. Syd held her breath and tugged on Mickale warning him to remain silent. She knew when to keep her mouth shut. Blue eyes snapped up at them again, this time sparkling with humor. “So Sydney, aren’t you going to introduce me to your lover?” Syd felt the color drain from her face at her mother’s question, then glared at Mickale as he snickered. “Uh, of course. Sure. Mother, this is Mickale Morgan. Mickale, this is my mother, Miriam Skeller.” With the introductions made, she risked a glimpse out the corner of her eye at Mickale. Mickale, exuding charm and magnetism, did a short bow and smiled his glorious smile at her mother. “Mrs. Skeller, I’m very pleased to meet you.” Her mother cocked her head at him and gestured for him to sit next to her. “Mickale? Now there’s an interesting name. Sit down, Mickale, while Sydney fetches…” She paused a bit and then went on, “you something to drink. I’m sure you’re probably bone-dry after your, uh, workout.” Mickale was half-way to his seat when the word “fetch” made him pause with a jerk and study Miriam a second before sitting next to her. He directed his thanks to both Syd and her mother. “No, I’m fine. But thanks for offering. I hope you’ll forgive me for the way we met.” Miriam tipped her head, turning her body so she could face Mickale as he sat next to her. “That depends. How long have you known my daughter?” At last Syd’s stunned mind clicked into gear and joined the conversation. “Mom, I’m a grown woman. I don’t need you to interview my friends. If I’d known you were coming…” “Well, you know how I love surprises, Sydney. Especially ones that give everyone a little jolt.” “Then you must be loving this one, huh?” Miriam giggled—since when has my mother ever giggled?—and narrowed her eyes at Mickale. “Have you known my daughter long?” “Only a few days.” Mickale leaned back against the cushions, obviously enjoying the situation and Syd’s discomfort with his answer. Syd bit her lip and tried to remember her age. Why was she letting her mother treat her like an errant teenager? And how would she get Mickale to stop fooling around and behave? The idea of a shifter sitting next to her mother was mind-boggling, not to mention nightmarish.

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“Then you must be very special to Sydney.” Miriam studied Mickale further before turning to Syd. “Am I right, honey?” Syd’s mouth dried up like a drop of water in the middle of the desert. Something inside her forced the words through her mouth without thinking. “Yes.” Mickale’s dark eyes caught her, invigorating her with renewed strength. “Yes, he is.” Although she kept her gaze on Mickale, she could sense her mother watching them, scrutinizing them. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Sydney?” Syd met Mickale’s smile with her own, keeping their connection solid. “Yes, Mom, I am.” All the strength she gathered from Mickale couldn’t keep her mother’s next question from rocking her world. “You realize you’re in love with a shifter?” Syd stared at her mother as her words echoed in her brain. “You know?” How had her mother known? She glanced at Mickale who was as stunned as she was. With her features immobile, Miriam placed her cup on the coffee table, rose, and crossed to the other side of the room, placing her back to the couple. A tense quiet filled the air around them as they waited for her to speak again. Finally, Mickale leaned over and whispered to Syd. “She doesn’t carry a gun, does she? Loaded with silver bullets?” Miriam’s sigh brought their attention back to her as her shoulders slumped and she rotated on her heel to confront them. Her face, so stoic before, flickered with a myriad of emotions as a single tear trickled down her cheek. “I’ve lived with your father long enough to learn how to spot a shifter.” She shook her head as if trying to deny the truth. “Have you thought about how your father will react if he ever finds out? His only daughter with a shifter? It’ll kill him.” Syd rushed to her mother and took her hands in hers. “I’m so sorry, Mom, if this hurts you or Dad. But I love him.” She twisted around to look at Mickale as if asking for confirmation. “And he loves me.” “You don’t seem so sure about that.” Syd turned to her mother as uncertainty gripped her. She needn’t have worried. “She can be sure.” Mickale’s comforting voice flowed over Syd, giving her another burst of support. “I love her. We’re meant to be together.” Joy sparked through Syd at Mickale’s declaration and she searched her mother’s face for any sign of understanding. But she couldn’t find what she wanted. “Your father can never know.” Miriam pulled her hands from Syd’s grasp and stalked to the window to stand and stare outside. “I won’t let anyone, not even you, hurt him that much.” “I don’t want to tear Syd away from her family.” Suddenly, Mickale was behind her and, as he rested his hand on Syd’s shoulder, she brought her hand to his to join both fingers and support. “But, of course, she’ll come to live with my family.” His confident statement made her wheel around to face him. What’d he say? Had he simply assumed she’d follow him anywhere? Who did he think she was? The werewolf version of the little woman? “What do you mean? I live here. My family is here as well as my work as a teacher. Where does your family live anyway?”

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“I’m not sure I should say at this moment.” He nodded at Miriam as she left the window and moved closer to them. “No offense.” Miriam shook her head. “None taken. But if Sydney went with you, I’d never reveal your pack’s location. I’d never put my daughter in any danger. Still, how do you know your people would allow her to live with you?” “Trust me. I’ll make sure they do.” Why are these two people deciding my future as if I’m not standing right in front of them? Syd’s hard glare darted between them. If they think they can, they’re about to find out differently! “Now hold up, you two. Who says either one of you gets to make my decisions for me? If— and I mean, if—I decide to come with you, I’ll be the one to make that decision.” “Syd, your life is going to change. Surely you realize that. Think about everything that’s going to happen to you. Think about the changes to your life, to your work, to everything.” “I have. I understand my life will be different. It’ll be more difficult and more exciting, too. But simply because she’s my mom, and you and I are mated doesn’t mean either of you get to boss me around like some kind of Shifter Stepford Wife.” Miriam’s gasp interrupted Mickale’s retort. “You’re mated? Did he mark you?” Fresh tears sprang to her eyes. “Oh, Sydney. When did you do this?” “When did who do what?” Mickale, Miriam, and Syd turned toward the opened front door. ***** Skeller stood with his hand still on the doorknob, bushy eyebrows diving for his nose as he waited for someone to respond. “Well? Isn’t anyone going to answer me? And who is this guy?” Mickale’s fangs sprouted at the same instant Syd clutched his arm and yanked him toward the bedroom. The jerk from her action caused him to clamp his fangs down on his tongue. “Ow!” The bedroom door slammed behind her as she let go of him. “I’ve got to remember to keep my front door locked.” She threw her body against it as if trying to hold back an invading army. “Oh, shit. My father!” What was this? Meet the family day? Mickale’s words were muffled as he stuck out his tongue and tried to examine his injury. “Thwat’s thwyour fwather?” “Sydney Skeller, get back in here!” Syd cringed. “Oh, crap. He doesn’t sound happy. What if he overheard us?” Satisfied his tongue was still intact, Mickale moved closer to Syd, shifting barely enough to heighten his sense of smell. “Miriam, who was that guy? And do I smell what I think I smell?” Mickale glared at the door as if he could see through it and changed more, disgust filling his very core. “He thinks I smell? He reeks of hunter stink. Hell, it’s enough to make me want to upchuck.” For a second, he wondered why Syd didn’t smell like a hunter, but curses from Skeller brought his attention back to the man on the other side of the door. “I’ll

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give him something to smell.” He narrowed his eyes and visualized breaking down the door. Yet even with his sensitive hearing he couldn’t make out Miriam’s response. The strike against his chest broke his train of thought, zapping him out of his partial transformation. “Hey!” Placing his palm over the spot where she’d struck him, he glared at a seething Syd. “Why the hell did you hit me?” She hissed at him, keeping her voice low and mean. “Don’t you even think about hurting my father or I’ll track you down and blow off your balls myself. And keep your voice down.” Jeez, but she’s beautiful when she’s mad. “Why? It’s not like he doesn’t know I’m here?” “I don’t want him to hear what you’re saying, you lame brain.” Yep, absolutely gorgeous as she put her whole body behind her words. His anger dissipated as his love for her overwhelmed him. “Okay, darlin’, okay. Don’t go all Elmer Fudd on me.” “Sydney, you come out here right now and bring that coward with you.” Who the hell did he think he was, calling him a coward? Mickale bristled at the name and fought to keep from morphing to full wolf form. “I’ll show him who’s a coward.” He reached for the doorknob, yet never made contact. Again Syd grabbed his arm, hauling him toward the bathroom. “Come on. I have an idea.” “If this involves my jumping out the window from this height, you’re going to have to let me finish shifting first.” As she forced him into the tiny bathroom, she stopped short. “You can jump that far and not get hurt?” “Only if I shift first.” He glanced at the small rectangle of a window over her tub. “But trust me. This big body ain’t going through your little window any time soon.” She nodded as if she’d seriously considered asking him to jump and pushed him into the tub. “Take off your clothes.” “Sure, babe. But don’t you think the timing’s a bit off to share a shower? I mean, I know your mom already saw us going at it, but I’m not too thrilled about putting on a show for your dad.” At her scowl, he obeyed her and stripped off his clothing. “Okay, if you insist. I’ve gotta say, you’re my kind of girl. When you want sex, nothing will stop you.” “Close your eyes and shut up, Mickale.” She took his clothes from him, dumping them on the floor outside the tub. “Whatever you say, darlin’.” Yet the moment he closed his eyes he knew he’d made a mistake. A cold liquid ran down the top of his head, startling him into opening his eyes, and reversing his metamorphosis. Fangs and ears receded as quickly as they’d appeared. He raised his hands in a futile attempt to shield himself as Syd threw pink liquid from another bottle at his bare chest. “Shit! Syd, what’re you doing?” He squeezed his eyes closed as the fumes from the perfume assaulted his eyes and nose. “I’m saving your butt if you’ll just shut up and let me.” He kept his eyes closed this time and shivered as splash after splash hit his body from head to toe. “Turn around. I need to get your backside.” He complied, making sure he didn’t slip on the slick surface of the tub. “Will you tell me why I’m being doused with all this stinky stuff?”

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“I’m putting perfume on you to cover up your shifter smell. My dad’s already gotten a whiff of you, but I’m not about to let him get another one.” Mickale frowned as another shudder raced through him. “I don’t get it. You think I stink, too?” “No. I don’t smell the shifter in you, but Mom did. And, of course, Dad will, too.” The liquid assault against his body stopped and he heard shattering sounds as she tossed empty bottles into her trash. “This awful perfume my aunt Rose gave me last year for Christmas would cover a skunk’s stink. So I’m sure it’ll cover shifter, uh, body odor. There. I think it’s dried on you. You can open your eyes.” “Damn, I reek.” Mickale dared to glance at his body. Fortunately, none of the vilesmelling liquid had made his skin change color or given him a rash, but the aroma invading his nostrils made his stomach heave. “Good.” She picked up his clothes and handed them to him. “I’m hoping it’ll be enough to cover your scent. Get dressed and come out to the living room. Let’s hope my father’s nose gets a good whiff of bad cologne or he’ll gun you down where you stand.” “So, in his mind, I’m either a stinking cowardly friend or a dead shifter. Great choices.” Syd’s lips quivered. Whether from a smile gone wrong or from the fear he saw in her stiffened body language, he didn’t know. God knows he couldn’t smell the fear on her. He couldn’t smell anything except the rank perfume she dumped on him. “Better a stinky coward than a dead shifter.” She helped him from the shower, turned to face the bathroom door, drew herself up to her full height, opened the door, and strode purposely through it. Without a moment’s hesitation, Mickale threw on his clothes and followed her as she called out to her father. “We’ll be out in a sec, Dad.” He reached her as she started through the bedroom door, but kept walking past her and ran directly into her father. “Oh, hell!” Pinching his nostrils shut, Skeller stumbled back from Mickale. “What in the figgin’ world is that stench?” His repugnant expression latched onto Mickale and ran up and down his body. “Is that you?” “Dad! How rude!” Syd linked her arm through her father’s and dragged him away from Mickale. Skeller let her lead him, but twisted his head around to frown at Mickale. Depositing her father as far away from Mickale as she could, Syd kept her arm hooked with his and tipped her head at Mickale in a silent message. A message he didn’t understand. “Uh, hi, Mr. Skeller.” Syd’s pointed look told him she’d expected him to say something more. What’d she want him to say to a hunter? Hey, how ya doing? Kill any of my friends lately? Uncle Mort went missing a week ago. Can I check and see if he’s hanging on your wall? Mickale shot her an exasperated look back. Get real, Syd. Meeting a Mafia boss would be easier. And safer. “Griswold, this is Syd’s friend, Mickale Morgan.” Griswold? Mickale bit the inside of his mouth to stifle a snicker. Damn, no wonder the man carried a gun whenever he could. Syd caught his near-slip, narrowed her eyes at him, and sent him an unmistakable “don’t you even think about it” glare. At least this time he understood her message.

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The deep lines on Skeller’s forehead could have hidden treasure in the folds. “He’s a friend of Syd’s? But I thought I smelled shifter earlier.” Syd and Miriam laughed an identical forced hyena titter at the same time. “Oh, Dad. Don’t be silly. A shifter in my apartment? You’re too funny.” She squeezed her father’s arm as she tilted her head so only her mother and Mickale could see the “uh, oh” expression she made. Miriam followed her daughter’s lead. “Really, Griswold, you think you smell shifter everywhere. Perhaps you’re mistaking one kind of smell for another?” Mickale frowned at her, but knew better than to correct her. He’d let her implied insult pass for now. Skeller’s glower lessened as his taunting smile grew. “Yeah, I guess. Boy, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who uses as much cologne as you do. And girly-smelling cologne, too.” Mickale opened his mouth to protest, but Syd beat him to the punch. “Dad, stop.” She strode across the room to take Mickale’s arm. “Mickale’s a metrosexual.” The moment she said the words, she tucked her head down and Mickale heard the slight gagging sound she tried to cover. Hey, you did this to me so go ahead and gag, darlin’. “A what?” Mickale tossed her a pointed look. Had she really expected Skeller to know what a metrosexual was? She answered with a “yeah, I know” roll of the eyes. “You know. A man who likes to take care of his appearance, has a regular hair stylist, gets manicures, etc. Besides, I happen to, uh, like his choice of cologne.” Mickale shuffled on his feet and crossed his arms, shoving his obviously un-manicured fingernails under his arms. Couldn’t her father hear the lie in her voice even if he’d missed how she’d almost choked on the words? No one could like this garbage bag of fragrances on his body. “You do? Well, I guess there ain’t no accounting for taste.” Ain’t that the truth? How in the world did an attractive, smart, classy lady like Miriam get hooked up with a dumb scum like Skeller? Mickale glanced from Skeller to Miriam and nodded to himself although he was sure Skeller accepted the nod as agreeing with him. “You look familiar to me.” Skeller’s beady gaze locked onto Mickale. Syd tightened her hold on him. “You ever done any hunting?” Mickale squeezed Syd’s arm in warning and chuckled under his breath. “You mean like in bird hunting? Or maybe deer hunting? What is it you hunt, Mr. Skeller?” Skeller checked his wife before answering. “Creatures of the night. Vile, repulsive minions from Hell.” Oh, this is gonna be fun. “You mean like bats?” “Worse than those furry little fliers, son.” A hunter had just called him “son.” Mickale didn’t know whether he wanted to toss his cookies or roll on the floor in hysterics. Maybe both. Instead, he adopted a surprised reaction. “Wow. Do you mean like vampire bats? Like Dracula?” He covered his grunt as Syd elbowed him in the ribs.

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Skeller’s delighted chuckle made his stomach flip over. The choice of tossing his cookies took the lead. “Naw. I’m talking about wicked, evil things, boy. Things like shapeshifters. You know, werewolves.” Damn, what I wouldn’t give to shift right now and see who’d hunt who first. But Syd’s warm body next to him reminded him who this man was and what he meant to the woman he loved. Oh, man, when had it gone from finding my mate as I was expected to do, to actually loving her? Still, he needed to keep his mind on the conversation at hand before he ended up making a mistake. “No kidding? Are you saying werewolves really exist? Wow.” He turned to Syd and dropped his jaw wide in feigned shock. She squinted her eyes at him, warning him to behave. “Oh, they exist all right. They walk among us. That is, until we kill them.” Skeller took a few steps toward Mickale, wrinkled his nose, and stopped in his tracks. “Are you sure we haven’t met before? You look so familiar.” “Trust me, I’d remember you.” Mickale stretched his lips wide and hoped Skeller would understand his true meaning. He should’ve known his subtle attempt at a challenge would go right over Skeller’s head. “Maybe you two met at a meeting?” Syd’s mother realized her mistake as soon as she met Mickale’s eyes. “I mean—” “At a hunters’ meeting?” Skeller studied Mickale closer. “You think so?” “No, Dad, Mom meant another kind of meeting. Or maybe at the hardware store. Mickale—” “Hey, that gives me an idea. We’re looking for new recruits. Brave men who aren’t afraid to rid the world of the evil among us.” Skeller turned his pointed stare—a dare any man would recognize—at Mickale while talking to Syd. “Or is your friend too busy dousing himself with girly-smelling perfume to man up?” Mickale prickled at the overt jab at his masculinity and almost growled his retort. “I’m more man than you’d ever want to find out.” Or should I have said, “More than a man than he’d ever want to find out.”? “No, Dad. Mickale didn’t mean—” Skeller’s features brightened as he struck a thumb's up. “Good. Let’s go. I stopped by to get Sydney to come along, but the more the merrier.” Syd’s mouth fell open along with Mickale’s muttered protests as Skeller moved across the floor to place himself in between the two of them. Choking on a gag, he gripped each one’s arm and propelled them toward the front door. “No time like the present. There’s a meeting starting in about an hour.” ***** “Dad, I really don’t think this is a good idea.” The short drive to the meeting left Syd dazed and in a panic, praying to find a way out of the awful predicament. Mickale, stinking up the car with his cologne-soaked body, sat pinned in between Miriam and Skeller in the back seat, his brawny hulk scrunched together like a large totem pole stuck between two tiny natives. His face, as unsmiling and emotionless as a Native American’s face carved in the totem pole, scared her. Would he freak out and shift

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at the meeting? Or would he take off as soon as she stopped the car? Either way, how would she explain it to her father? She still couldn’t believe her father cajoled her into driving them to the meeting. “Honey, I could tell by the tone in your mother’s voice when I walked in that this boy means something special to you. And since that’s so, I think it’s only right he know all about us Skellers and what we do.” Skeller patted Mickale’s left arm wedged next to his. “Besides, we need new meat. Even rank smelling new meat.” Sydney checked Mickale’s blank countenance in the rearview mirror. If only Dad knew what kind of meat Mickale was! She shook her head and tried again, “Don’t you think this is something we should let Mickale decide? After all, it’s a hunters’ meeting, not a Bridge game we’re forcing him to attend.” She grabbed the snacks her mother had prepared as the container slipped toward the front of the passenger seat, catching a glimpse of her frantic expression in the chrome of the dash. Hooray for me! I saved my mom’s homemade brownies so my hunter-father and my were-lover can share them at the meeting. Can this day get any weirder? “Nah, you don’t mind, do you, son? I get the feeling this boy knows his way around hunters.” Mickale blinked at her in the mirror and she could almost read his mind. Yep, he knows his way around hunters, Dad. Around them, over them, behind them, in any possible position to rip into them. “Park over there by the front door, Sydney.” She obeyed, letting her car roll into a space close to the windowless, box-shaped building used for a variety of clubs’ meetings including the Elks, the Veterans of Foreign Wars, and the Hunters. Yet even before the car had come to a complete stop, Skeller was half out of the car, yanking Mickale along with him. Syd whipped around to hiss at her mom as she scooted toward the open door. “Mom, we’ve got to stop this. Dad’s taking a shifter into the meeting. If they find out what Mickale is they’ll tear him apart.” Miriam’s white face turned to her. “I know. I don’t know what I was thinking when I mentioned the meeting. I’m so sorry.” “Tell it to Mickale when he’s lying in his own blood.” Or theirs, if he gets a chance to shift first. Syd threw herself out of the car and raced after her father and Mickale. She reached them a second after her father pushed the door open and thrust Mickale inside the smokefilled room, and then stepped in after him. Syd stopped, gathered her resolve, and plunged through the large, ornate door of the lodge house. “Fellow hunters! Meet Mickale, our newest prospective member!” At last, Mickale appeared to unfreeze from his silent stoniness. “No!” Friendly faces dropped their welcoming smiles and stared at him. Skeller turned to Mickale and scowled. “What do you mean, no?” Mickale met her frightened gaze with a stunned one of his own. “I think, uh, I guess I mean I’m not fresh or prospective?” His uncertainty crinkled up his forehead. Skeller pushed him deeper into the milling crowd and laughed as men backed away from Mickale. “Eh, don’t mind the smell, boys. We all have our quirks and this boy happens to like wearing a lot of cologne.” Skeller spun around to wave Syd into the mix. “Cologne my daughter likes.” Murmurs of understanding greeted Skeller’s explanation.

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Syd followed the two men, hunter and shifter, staying in the crowd as they went to the center of the group. So far, no one had said anything about smelling werewolf and her pulse slowed down somewhere near its normal rate. Nonetheless, she was determined to get Mickale out of the building as soon as possible. “So you and Sydney are together?” The low voice of her ex-boyfriend had Syd’s head whipping to the side as Joe Tanner moved from behind her to stop next to Skeller and Mickale. Joe’s stocky frame bumped against Skeller’s squat form in greeting. Although Joe was taller than her father, he was still a half foot shorter than Mickale. The lean muscled hardness of Mickale made Joe’s bulk look flabby while Mickale’s silky long hair was a direct contrast to Joe’s razor-short crew cut. In fact, Joe’s build was similar to her father’s box-shaped chunkiness. Funny how she’d never noticed the similarities between her father and Joe before. In seconds, the atmosphere surrounding the two men thickened as Mickale matched the animosity in Joe’s tone. “Yeah, we are.” Joe stretched his neck to try and appear as tall as Mickale. “Is that so?” To credit his bravery—or lack of common sense—Syd wasn’t sure which, Mickale took a couple of steps forward, putting his nose within inches of Joe’s. “It’s so.” The throng of men around her, sensing a fight, moved closer. She was trapped between the hunters and unable to move in any direction. All she could do was watch. “I don’t believe you. I can’t see Sydney dating a guy who smells like you.” Skeller, who’d watched the interaction in fascination, stepped in. “He’s a metrosexual. He’s ain’t a gay or nothing.” “He’s a what?” “A metrosexual. Don’t you know anything, Joe? A metrosexual man is a guy who likes all that prissy stuff like cologne, but still likes women.” The murmurs grew louder around Syd as the hunters tried to understand the new word and its meaning. Putting her hands on the man in front of her, she pushed her way nearer to the trio. “Dad, don’t you think—” “Sydney, babe! How’s my girl?” Joe grabbed her, encasing her in a bear hug that had her wishing she’d taken a big breath of air before he’d crushed her arms to her sides. How had she ever liked his hugs? How had she ever liked him? Mickale’s soft, yet threatening growl jumped her breath into action and she wriggled her way out of Joe’s hold to take Mickale’s hand in hers. “I am not your girl, Joe. Why can’t you get that through your head?” “Aw, come on, Sydney. You know you’ll always be my girl.” To keep Mickale from growling again, she whirled around and planted a kiss on his lips. For a moment, she worried about his lack of response but, at last, he tugged her to him, sliding his hand around her neck to keep her lips to his. A minute or more passed before he let her go, breathless and ready for more. Jeers and catcalls echoed in the hall around them. “Looks like he’s put his claim on her, Joe.” “She never kissed you that good, Tanner.” “Hey, Sydney, how about kisses for everyone?” “Woo-hoo! Lock and load, if you know what I mean.”

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Yet her father’s voice rang out louder than the rest. “Sydney Skeller, behave, girl.” Sydney reluctantly broke away from Mickale who winked his special wink at her. She grinned at him and pressed her fingers to her lips, already swollen from the intensity of the kiss. “I’m trying to get Joe to face up to the truth, Dad.” “Never you mind. Joe understands, don’t you, Joe?” Joe glared at Mickale before squaring off at her. “I understand this. Sydney belongs with me.” He snarled his words at Mickale. “And only me.” An amber flash in Mickale’s eyes had Syd planting her feet apart and fisting her hands on her hips. “Knock it off, you guys. I’m about to smother to death from the testosterone floating in the air. Sheesh, can’t a girl decide who she’s going to hang with?” She needed female support and not those of the women hunters. Glancing around, she wondered where her mother was. Sydney knew she’d better diffuse the situation before Mickale did something they’d all regret. His flash of amber indicated his other side was way too close to the surface for comfort. And the cologne had to wear off eventually. Add those two elements together and he’d show his true colors before they could escape this den of killers. “Dad, I think maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe Mickale and I should come back another time.” She smiled her prettiest smile at her father and took Mickale by the arm while tossing her father the car keys. “You take the car. We’ll find our own way home.” She nodded to the man blocking her way to get him to step aside. “Now hold on a sec.” Joe’s lighter tone surprised Syd and she turned around before she gave it any thought. Damn, why didn’t I keep going? “Joe, we’ve got to go.” Joe’s twisted smirk put the hairs on her neck on end. “If Mickale and Sydney are a couple, then we’d better make sure he’s worthy of her. After all, she’s one of us and she deserves the best kind of man. She deserves a hunter!” Cheers broke out, pounding the sound into her ears. What the hell just happened? She glanced toward the door, hoping to see either a path leading to it or her mother standing there, beckoning her on. But all she saw was a sea of hunters with no possible avenue of escape. “Look. I appreciate you guys offering to let me join, but I’m going to have to pass. As Syd said, maybe we can do this some other time.” Mickale started for the door again and Syd tried to follow, only to have Joe fasten a hand on both their shoulders, pinning them to the spot. “No problem, Mickale, old buddy. Skeller brought you here to make you a hunter, and I aim to make you one.” Joe’s unspoken “whether you like or not” ran through Syd’s mind and, if his hardened expression was any indication, Mickale’s, too. She hoped Mickale could sense how sorry she was to have put him in this position. “You two are getting lucky tonight.” Syd checked the crowd, knowing the words “getting lucky” had nothing to do with sex when it came to this group. She swallowed and waited for Joe to clarify. “You love birds get to join us on a hunt.”

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Chapter Six “How the hell did you get me into this mess?” Mickale’s hiss in Syd’s ear burned her earlobe and she reached up to make sure her skin hadn’t fallen off before she hissed back at him. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure how any of this happened.” They sat hunched together in the bed of Joe’s pickup as it flew down the dark streets, heading toward the same section of town where Syd’s father had taken her on her first hunt. A couple of other hunters sat opposite them, cradling their guns, but not moving or speaking. “We’ve got to get out of this.” Syd puffed out an exasperated release of air and twisted her neck to glare at him. “Ya think I don’t know it? Give me a break. This isn’t my fault.” “Then whose fault is it?” Syd stared at him. Although he was obviously pissed, he remained under control and not showing any fear. She felt the tug in her abdomen. Shit, he drips sex appeal even while trapped in a life-threatening situation. In fact, if there hadn’t been several other people around them, she would have thrown him down and ripped off all his clothes. She shook off the thought and concentrated on the problem at hand. “If anyone is at fault, blame my mother. But she didn’t do this intentionally, so don’t go off on her. At least she managed to get Dad to take her home first.” Mickale’s caustic laugh managed to raise the heads of their silent companions. “Oh, sure, I feel so much better. So, instead of getting shot by my future father-in-law, I get wiped out by his backwoods friends. But let’s not blame anyone.” Mickale snarled and pointed at the parking lot as they drove around the curve and through the gate. “Seems your father changed his mind.” Syd rested her hand on the rifle at her side as she turned to see her father already at the predetermined meeting location. Men. Whether they’re hunter or shifter, sometimes you just want to shoot them. “How did he get Mom home, swap vehicles, and get here before we did?” She shook her head and grabbed onto the side of the truck as the vehicle skidded to a stop next to her father’s pickup. The silent hunters dropped the tailgate and scrambled out. Joe slid out of the driver’s side and motioned for them to follow the others. “Come on, folks. Time to get the party started.” As her feet hit the ground, Syd vowed to stop this horror before it went any further. “Joe, we’re not coming.” Yet Syd’s bravado died as the hunters and Joe turned to burn their stares into her. “Oh, yes, you are. And your friend, too.” Skeller came up beside them and handed Mickale a rifle. “Do you know how to handle one of these?” She watched as Mickale gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I do. But I don’t plan on using—”

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The shot ringing out made them all jump, but Mickale was the first to recover. “Sounds like someone beat us to the kill.” He shot her a look filled with dread as the hunters started running across the parking lot and down an alley. Syd grabbed him and pulled him a couple of steps in the other direction. “Come on. This is our chance to get out of here. Hey!” Mickale broke away from her grasp and followed in the direction of the hunters. Not understanding, but unwilling to let him face whatever danger lay ahead by himself, Syd rushed after him. Mickale left her several paces behind as his long legs ate up the ground. He rounded a corner, making her heart pound as she lost sight of him. “Mickale, wait up!” She needn’t have bothered. Once around the corner, she slid to a halt, barely stopping before bumping into his back. Mickale stood, his rifle braced on his shoulder and pointed at the group of hunters in front of him. “Mickale?” Was he about to shoot her father and his friends? He ignored her as he raised the gun higher into the air and pulled the trigger. His shoulder jerked back from the shot as the hunters ahead of him whirled to face him. What had he done? Skeller thundered toward Mickale as he lowered his gun. “What the hell did you shoot for? You warned the creature. Shit, if you had to shoot, why couldn’t you have shot in the right direction? All you did was scare him off.” Syd glanced between the two men as understanding hit her. Mickale shrugged at Skeller and smiled. “Sorry. Guess I don’t have very good aim, huh? But no harm done. I’m sure I saw two other shifters heading down this way.” He shook his head and pointed over to the hunters. “Isn’t going after two better than going after one?” Skeller sneered at Mickale, started to say something, and then loped over to the other hunters. After a brief discussion, they headed off in pursuit of the two werewolves. Mickale’s wink lifted her spirits. What now? “I think I fooled them.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.” He winked again. “Two of nothing isn’t better than one of something. But they’ll never know I lied.” Throwing his words over his shoulder, she followed him as his meaning finally sunk in. She caught up with him to run beside him, her legs pumping twice to his one easy stride. “So you sent them on a wild shifter chase?” Although she panted as she jogged, he moved with ease and little effort. “Yep, this way we can say we tried, without actually shooting anything.” “Let’s hope so.” Their hopes were dashed as they caught up with the hunters. Joe, Skeller, and another hunter had their sights set on a couple of werewolves cornered against a wall. Syd grabbed Mickale’s arm and turned to him. “I thought you didn’t really see anything.” Mickale, his body straight and tense, stared ahead. “I didn’t. This is an accident. Crap, this day just keeps getting worse.”

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Even though she knew she shouldn’t, Syd couldn’t help but point out the similarities. “You mean this is an accident like the one my mom did?” He blinked, took a look at her with an indescribable expression, returned his attention to the two growling shifters about to get exterminated, and handed her his gun. “Take this.” As she watched in horror, he allowed his fangs to grow and started to shift. Trying to keep her voice low, she yanked on his arm and pleaded. “No. Don’t. It won’t help them and you’ll end up dead, too.” “I have to do something. I can’t stand by and watch them get slaughtered.” His eyes morphed, turning from dark brown to a glittering amber, as he started unbuckling his belt. “You’re right, you know. We really do need to figure out how to make our clothes disappear like they do in the movies.” As the transformation progressed, he faced her and took her in his arms for a brief hug. “I love you, Syd.” His breath warmed her neck as he bent his head and whispered, “In spite of your family.” With that, he pushed her away and tore at his shirt. Sydney’s stomach tightened at the exact moment the idea hit her. “Change back right now, Mickale, before they see you. I won’t let you die.” Putting her gun down, she knelt down on the ground and screamed. As soon as she saw the hunters turn her way, she screamed again, clasped her throat, and fell to her side. With one eye kept slightly open, she watched Mickale reverse his transformation. “Sydney!” Her father rushed to her side, the other men following him. “What’s wrong, honey?” Hunters argued with each other as they tried to figure out what had happened to her. As the hunters’ focused their attention on her, the two trapped shifters bolted, jumped up to grab an emergency fire ladder hooked to the side of a building, and scurried up to the roof. They vanished onto the top of the building without a backward glance. Syd covered the elation building inside her by letting loose with another eardrumsplitting shriek. Curling up into a fetal position, she whipped her head back and forth, and kicked her feet, all the while watching Mickale as he studied her with an amused expression on his face. Her father’s face, however, was a picture of helplessness. “Someone call 911. Now!” Skeller scooped her up into his arms and cradled her to him. “Hang on, honey. Help is on the way. You’re gonna be all right.” “No!” She held up her hand at the hunter who’d pulled out his cell phone. “No.” Placing her palm on her forehead, she sat up to the stunned reactions of those around her. Except, of course, for Mickale. “I-I think I’m okay now.” Scanning her body as if searching for any injuries, she confirmed her statement. “Yeah, I’m okay.” “But, honey, are you sure?” Her father’s concerned gaze scorched into her, burning the guilt into her heart. “What happened? You scared ten years off my life.” She gave him a reassuring smile and let him help her stand up. “I’m sure, Dad. Really.” Checking with everyone around her, she couldn’t help but add, “I’m so sorry, everyone. I guess I blew the hunt.” Mutters of “It’s okay” and “No problem” came to her and she knew they’d bought her act. Or at least most of them. Breathing a sigh a relief, she looked up into Joe’s face. Oh, crap. He’s not buying any of this. Joe darted his gaze from Mickale and back to her. As his steely gaze bore into her, he whispered, “Yeah, you sure did.”

68

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She swallowed, the lump catching in her throat as he caught her in her ruse, and she leaned closer to her father for added support. “Daddy, can we go home now?” “She should see a doctor.” Joe’s tone was anything but comforting as his stony face locked onto her. “He’s right, honey. Let’s get you to the emergency room.” As her father gently led her away, Syd fought to keep the panic at bay. Sure she’d managed to save the shifters and Mickale tonight, but had Joe really seen through her diversion or was he just pissed because he missed out on killing a couple of shifters? “No, Dad. I don’t want a doctor poking and prodding me. I want to go home to my own bed.” “I’ll stay with her and make sure she’s okay.” Mickale took her other arm, placing her between the two men she loved. “I’ll stay on the couch in case she needs me.” Her father hesitated and then moved on. “I don’t know. I still think—” “Trust me, Dad. Mickale will be right there. Just in case. But I promise I’m fine now. I don’t know what happened to me. Maybe it was the excitement of seeing the shifters. You know, the thrill of the hunt and all?” “Maybe so. But let’s not mention this to your mother.” The way her father studied first her and then Mickale, roped her stomach into a knot. Had he believed her lie? And even if he had, would Joe tell her father his suspicions later? “I guess if someone stays with you…” “Agreed.” She hugged her father’s arm to seal the deal. “If I let you go home, I want you to promise me something.” As they neared her father’s truck, Sydney checked on Joe. He followed behind them, intently listening to every word they said. Wouldn’t he have said something by now if he knew she’d faked her fit? Wanting to hurry up and leave Joe far behind, she hurried onto the passenger’s side and answered her father. “Promise what?” “I think Mickale should come to your birthday party tomorrow. It’s just a small family get-together. No big to-do.” Huh? She’d expected promises of taking it easy or seeing a doctor if she felt worse, but nothing about her party. Yet knowing her father, he had a reason for bringing up the party and she got the impression his reason wasn’t a good one for her or Mickale. “Your birthday’s tomorrow?” Mickale smiled at her and started to get in beside her. “Stop right there.” Syd held her breath as Mickale did as her father directed. Oh, no. Here it comes. Dad’s up to something. “You’ll ride in the bed, boy. I don’t think I can tolerate much more of your cologne.” Syd released her breath as she giggled in relief. Mickale nodded and jumped over the side to land gracefully in the truck. As her father rattled on about her party, they pulled out of the parking space, and Syd started to believe they’d dodged a bullet; both figuratively and literally. She relaxed against the seat and turned her head to look out the window. But her relief was short-lived. Her eyes met Joe’s angry ones as he leaned against his truck and watched them leave. *****

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Mickale checked the address again and wondered if his brother, Devlin, or any of the rest of the pack would have him committed if they knew what he was about to do. And this time, it was under his own steam without getting dragged into the crowd. So if they did throw him into the nut house, he wouldn’t blame them one bit. Satisfied that the address Skeller had given him was correct, Mickale shook his body trying to lessen the tension setting up shop in his neck, and marched up to the front. “I am certifiably crazy.” If anyone had told him he’d be walking into a hunter’s home a week ago, he’d have laughed them right out the door. Yet, here he was, marching straight into who knew what. Devlin, brother, if you could see me now. Mickale chuckled, amazed at what love made him do. But Syd was worth going through any hardship, even walking into a nest of killers. Again. He took a deep breath and pushed the doorbell. Please let Syd open the door and not her father. He steeled himself as he listened to someone turning the knob from the other side. A short old woman, her skin as wrinkled as a Sharpei, stood in front of him. Her fists rested on her hips, cigarette hanging out the corner of her mouth as she punctured him with an icy stare. I bet she’s from Skeller’s side of the family. Mickale flashed his most endearing smile at her and stuck out his hand. The old woman sneered at his outstretched hand without taking it, and resumed her stone-cold perusal. “Who’re you and what ‘cha want?” Mickale dropped both his hand and his smile. Ah, yes, the Skeller charm. “I’m Mickale Morgan, Syd’s friend. Her father ordered, uh, invited me to her birthday party.” She humphed at him, twisted around and yelled into the large crowd of people behind her. “Hey, Grissy. You invite some stinky outsider to your daughter’s party?” Everyone turned toward Mickale and stopped talking all at the same time. Shit. This is what Skeller calls a small family get-together? He sniffed, trying to get used to the gallon of bad cologne he’d dumped on his body before heading over to the party. He scanned the group, but couldn’t find Syd. “Uh, could I speak to Syd, please?” “Ooh, and a polite one, too. Smelly, but polite. Now where the hell is my moron of a son?” Faster than any old woman he’d ever known, Grandma Wrinkles hooked him by the arm and dragged him inside. “Syd’s around here somewhere. Best you get to know her family first. Are you the boy she’s bonking?” Mickale stammered, unsure of how to answer the direct question, and decided not to try. The crowd parted as she pulled him along with her, moving through the open screen doors on the back of the home and out into the backyard. “Grissy! Where the hell are you? I don’t have time to waste trying to find your sorry ass.” Mickale winced at the strident call. He was thankful his human ears didn’t have the sensitivity his wolf ears did. “If we could find Syd instead—” “Nonsense. My idiot son will show you around. I got better things to do than find your squeeze for you.”

Beverly Rae

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For once in his life, Mickale felt sorry for a hunter. With her as a mother, no wonder Skeller wanted to kill something. The only surprise is that Skeller hadn’t killed himself because of her. “Ma?” Skeller stepped out of the throng of partiers and scurried over to them. “Stop the hollering. I’m right here. And don’t call me Grissy.” Wrenching him away from his mother, Skeller yanked Mickale to his side and did his own version of The Club on Mickale’s aching arm. “Shit, son. Don’t you ever take a break on the cologne?” Mickale started to answer, but lost his train of thought as Skeller spun him around to face another elderly woman. “Mother Yates, this is Sydney’s friend.” Where Grandma Wrinkles had exuded a cold, hard-as-steel personality, this tall, slender lady radiated a warm, welcoming glow. Although her skin was as weathered as Skeller’s mother’s, the spark in her eye discounted any appearance of old age. Here was a woman of class and charm; a real lady. Mickale offered his hand and she enclosed it with both of her own. Her features brightened even more as the wide smile spread across her face and she twinkled up at him. “You’re a friend of Sydney’s? Oh, how wonderful to meet you. I’m Miriam’s mother, Gloria.” As if he couldn’t have guessed she wasn’t any blood relation to Skeller. “Hi, Mrs. Yates. I’m Mickale.” He covered her hands with his free one and tipped his head to her. “Please. Call me Gloria.” “All right. I will, Gloria.” As they broke free, Mickale waved off two bees buzzing around his head. Damn things must love cologne. “Syd’s father invited me.” He glanced around as he tried to shoo the bees away. Instead, two more joined the first little stingers. “But he said this was a small family thing. I guess the party grew, huh?” Her laugh was a cheery bell he immediately liked. “Oh, no. This is only a fraction of the whole family.” She laughed again at his expression. “The Skeller and Yates families are quite large. So even when you get a few from each side together, it turns into what looks like a mob scene. Probably more than many people would consider a lot of people.” She pulled him closer and coughed. If he smelled so badly, why did all these people want to get so close to him? As he started to ask Gloria, she whispered conspiratorially in his ear. “I hope you’re as strong as you look because you’re going to need every ounce of strength in you. You’re about to meet more members of the Skeller family.” Mickale, who’d lowered his head to listen to her, lifted his gaze and saw them coming. An overweight, tattoo-covered young man led two men in camouflage…please tell me birthday parties don’t include going on a hunt…and two obese women in flowing flowery dresses, each with a baby on one hip. Mickale’s mouth fell open as his eyes fell on the women’s bare feet. Can you say, “You might be a redneck if your wife is a barefoot baby factory.”? How in the world did someone like his beautiful, educated Syd come from a group of hillbillies? The odd clan descended on him as Gloria moved away and waved a plea to forgive her for leaving him in their clutches. Tattoo Man took one breath of Mickale and held his nose. “Holy shit. Uncle Gris wasn’t kidding. This sucker stinks.” The balding camouflage-clothed hunter took a whiff and choked on the smell. “Damn, man. You smell worse than four-day-old road kill.” Like they didn’t have a rotten hunter smell? Mickale bit his tongue and kept the comment to himself. Where the hell was Syd, anyway?

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“Ya’ll quit being rude.” The largest of the women wiped the baby spit off her hand and reached out to shake Mickale’s hesitant one. “Don’t mind them. We heard you have a thing for bad cologne. Guess someone has to buy the cheap stuff, huh?” She pumped Mickale’s arm, making the flabby skin of her underarm wave its own greeting. “I like it.” The other woman, whose red lipstick was her sole attempt at makeup, reached over to stroke his arm. “Besides, when a man looks like you who cares how he smells? Hey, I’m Tildy.” Baldy gawked at Tildy. “Is that so? Then how come you make me take two baths before coming to bed? Huh? What’s up with that, woman?” Mickale stepped back as Baldy bellied up to Tildy. “It’s different. You reek of grease and oil and B. O., Bubba. Not cologne.” Tattoo Man crooked his head to the side, gesturing for Mickale to follow him. “Forget them, man. They’re our poor relations from North Carolina. They came out here to get jobs and help Uncle Gris kill shifters.” He paused to study Mickale. “You know about shifters, right?” Mickale, thankful to Tattoo Man for taking him away from the quarrelling kinfolk, grinned at the question. “You wouldn’t believe how much I know about shifters.” “Cool, man.” Again, he studied him and Mickale wondered if he’d said too much. Tattoo inched closer to Mickale and whispered, “Can I trust you, man?” Mickale leaned in and nodded, intent on hearing the guy’s secret. “You bet. What do you have in mind?” “I’m holding. If you’re int’rested.” Tattoo patted his rear pocket as he surveyed the mob around them. “Holding what?” He didn’t care as long as it wasn’t a gun. Mickale crooked his neck around to the side to try and get a glimpse of what Tattoo had. The snort Tattoo made answered Mickale’s question. “Oh, you’re holding drugs. What kind? Pot? E?” “Naw, man. Just a little blow. You want a snort?” What a great bunch of relatives Syd has. Maybe introducing her to the pack won’t be as much of a culture shock as he’d originally thought. She might even think she’d moved up in the world. “I appreciate your willingness to share, but I think I’d better stay straight.” Tattoo scrunched up his face in disgust. “Share? Hell, no, man. I’m offering you primo stuff for a good price.” Great. Sydney’s cousin is a drug user and a dealer. Priceless. “Oh. Then definitely no thanks.” “Suit yourself, man. But you’re missing out on a good thing.” Mickale shrugged and backed away. “My loss then. Thanks, anyway.” He kept going as Tattoo Man flipped him off and headed to the other side of the yard. After snagging a Coke—the legal kind—off a nearby picnic table, Mickale decided to head inside to track Syd down. Other relatives—including an oversexed teen who flashed her boobs at him—tried taking his arm to slow him down, but he politely shook them off and kept moving. He needed time to regroup. Time to think. Time to get away from these loony people.

Beverly Rae

72

As soon as he thought no one was watching, he ducked through a swinging door and into the brightly lit kitchen. Platters of refreshments sat on the island counter and he breathed a sigh of relief as he noted the empty kitchen. He blew out a puff of air and gulped down the drink. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give for a cold brew.” “If you’ll help me with this pot, I’ll get you one.” He sputtered the second gulp he’d taken, wiped the drink off his chin, and grimaced as Syd’s mother rose up from the other side of the island. “They’re kind of hard to take the first time you meet them. And the second and the third time, too.” She tossed him a dish towel to mop up the splatter on the floor. “And I imagine they’re especially hard for you to take.” Grateful to have something else to do rather than look at her, he bent over and cleaned up the mess. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything.” “Yes, you did.” He straightened up, ready to get blasted and, instead, found her giving him a knowing smile. Still, insulting Syd’s relatives wasn’t the best way to start off with her mother. “Don’t worry, Mickale. I understand.” She put a finger to her lips and lowered her voice. “The first time I met Griswold’s family I almost ran for the hills.” He grinned at her and nodded. “I thought I was getting punked when I came through the door.” Another laugh brought him closer as she gestured him over to her. “As I said, help me by lugging this pot out of the lower cabinet and I’ll fetch you a beer.” She caught his reaction and held up her hands, palms out. “Sorry. I guess I shouldn’t use that term around you.” “It’s all right. As long as you don’t start throwing sticks.” As he lifted the huge cooking pot onto the stove, Miriam retrieved a wine bottle from the wine rack and expertly pulled its cork. “How about a nice red wine instead of a beer? After all, I’m fixing spaghetti and meat sauce for dinner. Do you like spaghetti, Mickale?” He accepted the glass of wine she offered him and they clinked their goblets together. “I love it. And meat sauce is a must.” “Touché.” She took a sip and started filling the pot with water using a smaller, handheld pot. “Must be my Italian ancestors because I love making spaghetti for a big crowd.” At his questioning look, she explained. “I know. Yates doesn’t sound Italian, and it isn’t. My family changed their name a long time ago. I guess they wanted to sound more American.” “Many immigrants did the same thing.” “Are you speaking of your family?” She eyed him and took another sip of her wine. “No. I watch the History Channel. When I get tired of the cooking channel, that is.” He winked at her to let her in on his joke. Chuckling, she crossed to the cabinets and pulled out a huge box of spaghetti noodles. “Ah, a man who values the lessons of the past as well as the art of fine cuisine.” “Well, as I see it, if I can learn from someone else’s mistakes, then I might make fewer of my own. And I make enough of my own already.” “Is that so?”

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Miriam glanced at him, giving him the impression she wanted information. Information he wasn’t ready to spill. Instead, he steered the conversation back on safe ground. “You’ve sure got the crowd for some major cooking.” “Oh, this little group? This is nothing. You should see Christmas around here.” She stopped putting spaghetti noodles in the boiling water and tilted her head at him. “Will you be around for Christmas, Mickale? Or is my daughter just a fling on the other side of the fence? Is this a sort of slumming for shifters?” He swallowed his last sip and put down his glass. “I don’t know if I’ll be around for the holidays, but I’d like to be. But if your husband and his fellow hunters ever find out about me, then I may not live long enough to hang any mistletoe.” Placing both hands on the counter, he leaned toward Miriam and enunciated all his words clearly. “But it’s like I told you before. Syd is no fling. She’s my mate. No matter who her family is or what they do.” Miriam stopped in mid-stir and studied him. “Your mate. Whew, I’m not sure it’s sunk in yet. To me or to Sydney. When did this happen?” “I marked her the other day.” What does she know about mating? She acts as though she understands the significance of being mated, yet he wasn’t sure. “Mrs. Skeller—” “Call me Miriam.” “Okay. Miriam, I don’t get it. You know what I am and yet, you’re not telling your husband. Why not? Why aren’t you screaming bloody murder? My murder?” She took a sip of her wine and another moment before she answered him. “I know Sydney cares about you, loves you. I’m assuming she allowed you to mark her? I’m thinking she wanted to mate with you?” Mickale’s memory clicked back to marking Syd while she was intoxicated with alcohol and pain medication. He cringed inwardly as he thought of the misunderstanding they’d had. If he’d only known about the pain medication, he’d have waited to mark her another time. But the signals he’d received from her—her calling for him and then leading him to her bed—had led him to believe she’d wanted him to mate with her. Still, he didn’t think telling Syd’s mother was the brightest move he could make. Opting for the easy way out, he gave her the same reasoning he’d used with Syd and the answer she needed to hear. “She agreed. We’re mated. Syd and I have gone through a lot together in a very short time.” “It’s true.” Mickale saw Miriam’s gaze dart to the door behind him and he spun on his heels to find Syd standing at the door. Letting it swing shut behind her, she crossed the room to him and into his welcoming arms. “Say it again, Syd.” She scrutinized him and did as he asked. “He said those same words to me once before when we talked about this subject. And even though we had a rocky start, especially on the subject of whether or not I agreed, we are mates, Mom. Nothing and no one is going to come between us.” Miriam reached out to take her daughter’s hand in hers. “Are you sure, honey? Even with what he is? Which means—” “Which means I’m the same now. Are you saying you don’t think we can make a go of it?” Although Syd’s body tensed next to his, Mickale could hear the plea and the uncertainty in her voice.

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Miriam drank the remaining wine in her glass. “I know you can. In fact, I know it better than you do.” “What do you mean, Mom?” But Miriam continued without answering Syd’s question. “The only problem is making sure no one outs Mickale to your father. He and his hunter buddies can never know Mickale’s true nature.” “What’s this about outing Mickale? What do you mean by Mickale’s true nature?” Miriam’s glass slipped out of her fingers, shattering in the sink, as they all swiveled to face Skeller coming through the door. His expression was unreadable as he took in the trio. “I asked a question, Miriam. Why are you talking about outing Mickale?” ***** “Griswold Skeller, you better stop sneaking up on me.” Her mother shook her “Mom finger” at Skeller as he approached them. “I’m not sneaking up on anyone. But why is this the second time I’ve caught you three in a huddle?” Syd gaped at her mother. Looks like you’ve done it again, Mom. “We weren’t in a huddle, Dad. We were just, uh, talking about going out after the party. That’s all.” “Bullshit.” Skeller strode to his wife and took over picking up the shards of glass out of the sink to drop them into the trash. “Are you cut, Miriam?” “I’m fine, Griswold. And watch your language.” Syd could tell she tried, but her mother couldn’t keep the irritation out of her tone. The question Syd had was whether or not her mother was more irritated at her father…or herself. “Really, Dad, it’s nothing. Mickale wants to take me to this new club downtown. One where his friends hang out.” Skeller finished cleaning up the breakage and washed his hands. “Uh, huh. I see. His friends.” Syd glanced at her mother and Mickale, and saw the same apprehension on their faces that was running the five-mile lap around her stomach. “Yeah. His friends.” She made a crazy face to try and lighten the mood. “After all, he’s spending the afternoon cooped up with my zany relatives so the least I can do is spend some time with his kind.” Crap. Why’d I say “kind?” “I know what kind of friends you’re talking about, Syd.” Her father crossed his arms over his chest and arched an eyebrow. “And I know all about his true nature.” Her apprehension skyrocketed into old-fashioned, gut-churning fear. “You do?” “You bet I do. I’ve known from the moment I met him.” “You have?” No way. If her father had known, he’d have plugged Mickale right then and there. So… Syd moved closer to Mickale. If they were about to face the music, then she wanted them to do it together. “But how, Dad?” Had her father’s senses—other than his sense of smell—told him Mickale was a werewolf?

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“Oh, come on, Sydney. I’m not stupid.” Skeller slammed his palms down on the counter, his stern expression making her feel six-years-old again. “Didn’t you think I could tell?” Syd nudged Mickale, trying to tell him to get ready to run. “I guess I thought we’d covered it up.” “You didn’t. All the cologne was a dead give-away. And the kiss at the hunters’ lodge? Please, I’ve seen wet-behind-the-ears boys kiss a girl with more enthusiasm.” “Hey, now wait just a minute.” Mickale’s protest was lost on her father. “Nope, I didn’t buy it for a minute. And now it’s time to take care of him. Once and for all.” Her father pushed away from the counter and put his back to them as he dug around in a drawer. The drawer where he kept his pistol. Syd’s heart thumped in her chest as she started shoving Mickale to the door. Mickale, however, wouldn’t move fast enough. “Mickale, get out of here.” At last, he caught on to her urgency. Clasping her hand in his, he wheeled around and pushed on the swinging door. “Stop right there!” A cold sweat popped out on Syd’s forehead as Mickale halted in his tracks. He tossed her a wink before his face grew serious again and he turned around to confront her father. “Mr. Skeller, this isn’t the time or the place. You can do what you will with me, but leave Syd alone. She’s still your daughter, no matter what’s happened.” Syd kept her gaze on the man she loved, reveling in his courage. Wow, if I hadn’t thought he was sexy before, he sure is now. Too bad it’s right before he’s about to get killed. “Well, of course, she is.” Her father’s chuckle brought her attention back to him. Yet instead of holding a gun, he held out a credit card. Syd gaped at him, trying to figure out what was about to happen. “A credit card?” Did her father think he could slice up a werewolf with a credit card? “Here, take it.” He tossed the card onto the counter and waited for someone to pick it up. “What’s with you guys? Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to look a gift horse in the mouth?” “You said you knew my kind.” Mickale’s voice sounded a lot stronger than Syd felt. “I do.” Skeller motioned at the card again. “Hell, you think I bought that metrosexual phooey? Give me some credit.” He chuckled and pointed at the card. “Get it? Give me some credit? Although I’m the one giving Syd the credit.” When he kept gesturing to the card, Syd finally reached over and picked it up. “So what do you want me to do with this?” “I want you to treat Mickale at this club of his as a thank you for watching out for my little girl last night.” If dropping jaws made any noise, the explosion in the room would have deafened people twenty miles away. “Huh?” Syd looked at her mom who could only shake her head, then at Mickale and, lastly, back to her father. “You know what Mickale is and you want me to treat him to a night out?” “Of course. Why not?” Skeller ran his hand over his face. “Why are you all acting so weird? You know I’m not homophobic.”

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Mickale made a choking sound before taking a step toward Skeller. “I’m a homosexual? I’m gay?” The giggle coming up Syd’s throat couldn’t be restrained as her father walked over to engulf Mickale in a big bear hug. “Hey, son. There’s no need to hide it any longer. No straight man, not even some strange duck like those metrosexuals you talked about would ever wear so much cologne. But you’re Sydney’s friend and that’s a good enough recommendation for me. At least now I understand why she feels so safe with you. Come on.” With Mickale’s mouth hanging wider, Skeller kept his arm around his shoulders and pushed him through the swinging doors. Syd and her mother followed behind them to find Skeller, his arm still wrapped around the stunned Mickale, standing in the middle of the living room. “Listen up, people! I have an announcement.” Skeller’s voice boomed over the noise and music. Someone shut off the music and everyone grew quiet, ready to hear whatever he wanted to say. “As most of you probably know, this here is Sydney’s friend, Mickale.” Mickale lifted his hand in a short, half-hearted way before twisting his head around to Syd. With a tortured expression, he mouthed the words, “Kill me now.” “Anyway, I’ve heard a few of you making some comments about him and my little girl, and wondering how close they are. Well, let me make this perfectly clear. Mickale is Sydney’s good friend—but just her friend—and we don’t care if he’s gay and wears a shit load of cologne. He’s welcome in the Skeller household and in our hunters’ group even if he does stink to high heaven.” Syd slapped a hand over her mouth to stop the giggles as her relatives clapped at the announcement. In the space of one afternoon, Mickale had gone from her lover to her gal pal.

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Chapter Seven “I have never had anyone—anyone—think I’m gay.” Syd held back the temptation to tease Mickale. She slid out of the passenger’s side of the car. “So you’d rather have my father know you’re a shifter than to have him think you’re gay?” Mickale took her hand in that secure, possessive way couples who’ve been together for years do and led her across the street toward The Hideaway. Syd basked in the comforting glow his familiar gesture gave her and glanced up at the small, yellow neon light; the only sign on the black building with its dark tinted windows. “Of course not. It’s just that—” “It bruises your ego for someone to believe this hunk of a wolf is anything but heterosexual, right?” “No, not so. But I don’t like the idea of some of the ladies thinking I’m not interested in females.” Syd yanked his arm, swinging him around to face her. “And why the hell would you care if the ladies think you’re not interested in women?” She poked her index finger in his chest. “Are you interested in other women, Mickale? Am I not enough? Besides, I thought wolves mated for life.” He grabbed her finger to stop her assault. “Hey, I’m not looking around.” Pulling her to him, he enveloped her in his arms and nuzzled her ear, shooting hot little flames straight down to her belly. “You are more than enough woman for me, Sydney Skeller. And yes, wolves mate for life. Even this wolf.” She tilted her head up to check out his expression. Yep, he was serious. “Okay then. No more worries about who thinks what about your sexual orientation, got it?” “Got it.” “Sheesh, I never would’ve believed it. Mickale Morgan, king of the one night stands and the Casanova wolf of all time, wrapped around a female’s—a human female’s—little finger.” Syd followed the voice to see a rather thin, fire-engine red-haired man standing in the doorway of the bar. A smirk covered the smaller man’s features as he flicked a speck of lint from the front of his silk shirt. Silk slacks along with very expensive loafers finished his ensemble making Syd think she was woefully underdressed for what Mickale had called “a shifter joint.” “What the hell did you do to your hair?” Mickale released his hug on Syd but laced his fingers through hers again. A dramatic shocked expression replaced the smirk on the small man as he delicately touched his redder-than-red locks the way a prissy girl would. “I needed a change. We girl’s have to keep you brutes guessing, you know. You mean you don’t like it, sweetie?” Waving his fingers at Syd, he added, “I thought you liked redheads.”

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“Yeah, I like real redheads. Not the ones who look like they dumped a bucket of orangey-red food coloring over their head. And don’t call me sweetie.” Mickale jerked his head at his friend before addressing Syd. “Syd, this embarrassment to the Morgan Pack is Blair Winsom. Blair, this is my mate, Sydney Skeller, the future Mrs. Mickale Morgan and coleader of the pack. So behave yourself. She may not have the tolerance I do.” Syd watched as Blair’s face underwent several changes. Stunned Silence was the first one and easily discernable. Then came Surprise, followed by an emotion she couldn’t identify. Possibly Jealousy? But why would Blair envy her? After several seconds, however, acceptance appeared and a wide smile stretched his thin lips. “Well, color me blown away. And I’m not talking about anything to do with my jolly johnson, either.” Blair skipped over to her, grabbed her by the arms, and pulled her to him for an air kiss on either side of her face before slapping Mickale on the arm in a coquettish fashion. “Did he say you’re his mate?” Syd nodded, unsure of what to expect next. She squeezed Mickale’s hand to let him know she might need help understanding this intriguing creature standing before her. “You got it, Blair. Syd and I are mated.” She’d expected something along the lines of congratulations, but got something totally different. Instead, Blair released her to strike a defiant pose, hands on hips, and thrust his chin out at Mickale. “Well, don’t think this is the end of our affair, my little boy-toy. Once you get tired of playing with the female, you’ll come running back to me.” Mickale and Blair? Did Mickale swing both ways? She turned to Mickale whose eyes had changed from dark, warm chocolate to sparkling amber. “Knock it off, Blair.” He set his gaze on her and she squirmed under the glare. “And don’t you go believing anything he says. Blair’s joked around like this for years and he knows I hate it.” He returned his gaze to Blair. “Don’t you, Blair?” Unfazed by Mickale’s warning, the lithesome Blair humphed and pivoted toward the door. “Whatever you say, Mickey.” He was through the door, however, before Mickale uttered a growl and led her inside. The club’s interior more than made up for its dreary exterior. Dark forest-green leather covered every booth, chair, and mahogany barstool while a twinkling chandelier adorned the mosaic-covered ceiling. A small stage, outfitted with theatre lights and a sound system built into the walls stood guard over a black and white checkered dance floor, while the light from small lamps glittered on the walls. Beautifully-dressed couples skimmed along the dance floor as a band, similar to those of the forties jazz club era, played a lively tune. Syd glanced down at her faded jeans and t-shirt, and cringed. Slapping Mickale on the arm in perfect imitation of Blair’s earlier slap, she whirled and started for the door. He stopped her, pulling her to him. “What’s wrong?” Syd ran her eyes over his attire and gawked at him. “Can’t you see? We’re not dressed for this kind of place. Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve changed before we came. Especially since you insisted on stopping at my place so you could shower off the cologne.” “I had to. I didn’t dare show up here smelling like I’d jumped head first into a perfume counter.” Mickale checked out their clothes as if noticing them for the first time. “I guess I

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didn’t think about how we’re dressed.” He shrugged in dismissal. “Besides, you look more beautiful in jeans than all of these females do in their fancy garb.” Damn, just when I had a right to get mad, he goes ahead and spoils my hissy fit. “Thank you for the compliment. And good try, Mickale, but that doesn’t change anything. Let’s get out of here.” “Don’t worry. Shifters are great about not judging a person by the way they dress. Hell, if they had, my brother, Devlin, would have gotten tossed out of the pack by now. Trust me. They may look stodgy all dressed up, but they’re a great group of people. And a lot of fun, too.” “Still…let’s go, okay?” She could sense eyes studying her as she tried to keep her face averted. “Is everyone here a werewolf?” Wow, to think that a week ago I believed shifters were the ghastly, monstrous creatures of my father’s stories. Now, I’m in a shifter club with my werewolf lover. Talk about a change of life! “Yes, they’re all shifters and nope, we’re not leaving. I brought you here to meet some of my friends and we’re not leaving until you do. Besides, I plan to do some major damage to your father’s credit card.” Syd gasped as he slid his arm under hers and propelled her toward the crowd. She protested as quietly, yet as forcefully, as she could as he led her through the people on the dance floor and onto the stage. Bright spotlights blinded her for a moment, granting her a little reprieve from the staring crowd. She ducked her head hoping to see the floor opening up underneath her. Where was a trap door when she needed one? Mickale motioned to the band leader to stop the music, turned to the group, and took the microphone from the lead singer. “Attention, everyone!” I am so going to kick him in the balls the first chance I get. Syd held her breath and dared to lift her head for a peek. Every person stopped what they were doing and locked onto Mickale…and her. Gasping, she tucked her head again and pretended she was an ostrich. “Everyone, this is my mate, Sydney Skeller.” A shiver of excitement ran through her. Twice he’d introduced her as his mate. Would she ever get used to hearing those words? Instead of applause or cheers, a low murmur swept through the crowd. Surprised by their lack of greeting or enthusiasm, she lifted her head in defiance and tried to do her meanest, squintiest eyes at them. Had Mickale called these people accepting? I think not. Well, if they’re going to treat me like this, then they have another thing coming. She covered the mike with one hand and hissed at Mickale. “So? Go ahead. Tell me they hate me. That’s why they’re all talking real low and not saying anything loud enough for me to hear, right?” Mickale looked at her with a smile playing across his lips. “I guess the transformation hasn’t started for you yet. If it had, you could hear what they’re saying.” “Pfft. Would I want to hear what they’re saying? If it’s unflattering, then I’d just as soon not, thank you very much. Not that I couldn’t take it, mind you.” The furrow on his forehead deepened. “What they’re saying is very nice.” He shrugged and started to walk off the stage. “But since you don’t want to know…” All the bravado she’d kept a tight hold on rushed out of her. “Huh? Wait a sec.” She dropped the fierce expression and wished she could see the expressions on the dark figures in front of her. “Tell me.”

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The scar along his jaw twitched as he tried to hide his mirth. “Oh, now you want to know, huh?” At her nod, he relented. “Okay. They’re saying how pretty you are and how you must really be something if Mickale Morgan’s finally settling down.” “They are?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you telling me the truth?” “I swear. Well, at least most of them are saying good things.” “Most? You mean some of them are saying bad things?” Syd swallowed and got ready for the worst they could throw at her. “Like what?” “Nothing about you personally. But a few of the females aren’t very happy to know you landed a hunk of a hound like me. A few of them are my former, uh, girlfriends. For lack of a better word.” Curious, she peered around her, trying to make out the jealous women. “Oh, really?” “Yes, really.” He took her hand off the mike. “Can we bring up the house lights, please?” As the lights came up, Syd saw the faces of the people. A couple of the females glared at her; envy written in their faces and in their stiff body language. Yet, most of the audience smiled or waved once she looked their way. “Hey, Mickale!” Blair waved his hand from the side of the room. “How about we give Syd a little initiation into the pack?” Cheers broke out around her as she stopped breathing for a moment. “Initiation?” What kind of initiation did werewolves have? A little walk on the wide side? A moonlight streak in the buff? “Yep. You gotta go through the initiation. After all, a pack is a close-knit club and all clubs have initiations.” Mickale brought her to him and held her against his strong body. “Don’t worry. You’re going to have fun. Trust me.” “I do wish you’d stop saying ‘trust me.’” Two shifters jumped on the stage, their long coat tails flapping behind them. Mickale tugged her back a few steps with him as the tallest one took command of the mike. “All contestants on the stage, please.” Syd watched, fascinated as several men and women walked up onto the stage. Tossing their clothes aside as their transformations began, they all shifted to wolf form. As if on cue, they made a straight line across the back of the stage, placing her and Mickale in the middle of the line. “Oh, wow. I’m surrounded by wolves.” Mickale kissed her on the cheek and started removing his clothes. “The more I think about it, the better your idea sounds. We’ve got to get a way to make our clothes disappear.” Before he’d finished speaking, his conversion was complete and he rubbed against her in his glorious black wolfish form while he spoke to the blond, blue-eyed Brad Pitt look-alike announcer. “Syd isn’t ready to morph yet.” “I’m not? I haven’t tried yet, so how do you know?” “I’d smell it on you.” “Oh.” She hadn’t given the idea of shifting much thought until now. So when would she change? “Hey! You’re speaking like a human. How come you’re not talking in wolf talk? How come I can understand you?”

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A beautiful silver wolf snickered and answered before Mickale could. “What should he speak? Swahili?” Mickale snarled at the silver wolf, lowered his tail and flattened his ears. “Knock it off, Tyla.” Turning to look at Syd, he added, “Once you shift you’ll understand. It’s just a matter of adjusting your tongue to the new shape of your mouth.” Brad-alike, who’d remained in his human form much to the pleasure of several ladies, nodded and turned to the mike again. “Okay, if we’re through giving the newbie a lesson in Shifting 101, then we’re ready for the howling contest. Please note. Mickale’s Syd will receive handicap points because she’s a newbie and hasn’t had a transformation yet.” She got handicap points? For a howling contest? Syd bit her lip, trying to understand how she was supposed to howl when she hadn’t changed even one time. She could only hope she received a whole mess of handicap points. “First up. Cassie!” A beautiful gray female approached the front of the stage, blew a kiss at Brad-alike, lifted her head, and let out a long, plaintive howl. The howl carried on for several minutes and when it ended the crowd broke out in appreciative applause. Brad-alike hugged Cassie around the neck then pried her from him as she shifted and locked her arms around his muscular torso, and took his place at the mike. “Uh, awesome, Cassie. Terrific. The others are going to have to bring out their best stuff to beat her performance. Our next contestant is Howie. With a name like Howie, he’d better excel at howling, don’t you think?” The crowd laughed at the announcer’s pitiful joke as Howie, a scraggly wolf half Mickale’s size, crept up to the footlights. He glanced around the room until the laughter died off and raised his head. Although his body was bone-thin and weak-looking, his howl was full-throated and possessed a great power. Wolves hooted and barked as Howie finished. “Well done, friend,” praised Brad-alike. The rest of the contestants filed forward, one at a time, until the only ones left were Mickale and Syd. Mickale rubbed his snout against her and then trotted to the front of the stage. Without hesitation, he sat down on his haunches, glanced out one of the high windows dotting the top of the walls, and raised his head toward the soft glow of the moon. The sound, masculine with a sexy undertone she knew was meant for her, ripped through the club, filling every corner and every ear with its rich tones. Men’s jaws ground in obvious envy while the women showered him with adoring looks. He finished and a deafening silence followed as no one dared speak. Even Brad-alike took time to give his own quiet tribune, before clapping his hands in thunderous ovation. Following his lead, the crowd erupted in booming applause, along with a combination of barks, yips, and cheers. Mickale bowed and returned to stand next to Syd. “Gee, thanks. I haven’t even shifted yet, but I’m supposed to follow you? No, thanks. I’m not making a fool of myself.” In the seconds it took for her to pivot and start down the stage steps, Mickale transformed and quickly dressed, gripping her arm to bring her toward the mike. “Oh, no you don’t. It’s your turn. Just close your eyes, forget about everything and everyone else, and let your inner wolf run wild.” He winked at her and added, “Trust me.” Syd mumbled under her breath, “Trust me, my ass.”

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Laughter greeted her declaration and she blushed when she realized they’d heard her. Note to self: Do not mumble around shifters. Regrouping, she faced the mike, scanned the people before her, and took a big breath. Closing her eyes, she released the breath, taking several more after that as she tried to envision the moon glowing in the night sky. Slowly, a tingle crept through her body, and she forgot everything except the moon behind her eyes. Without a worry about how she would sound, she lifted her chin, threw back her head, and howled. She wasn’t sure how long she howled or how loud she was, but she was sure she felt wonderful. Exhilarated. Fulfilled. Free. When her breath finally ran out, she opened her eyes and found everyone staring at her, their gazes locked onto her. Oh, shit. Had she screwed up without realizing it? Why were they looking at her like she’d done three back flips and landed flat on her butt? Yet at the moment she was about to flee, applause equaling the praise given to Mickale shook the room. She smiled, unsure if they were simply being polite to a newbie, and stepped away from the mike. The announcer, however, had a different idea. He scooped her around the waist and brought her back in front of the mike. “I don’t think we need to vote, do we?” A resounding “no” reverberated around her. “Good. Then ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to announce the winner of tonight’s howling contest is…Sydney Skeller!” Yowls, woofs, and cries of support surrounded her as she tried to understand what had just happened. “I won?” “You sure did. I don’t think I’ve ever heard any newbie howl better.” Syd’s mind froze as her gaze met Brad-alike’s brilliant blue eyes. He pulled her closer, leaving no room between their bodies and whispered in her ear. “I’d love to take you home tonight.” I bet he gets his pick of females to take home every night. She gulped, trying to force the clog in the rear of her mouth down the rest of her throat. “Uh, I, uh, can’t.” Brad-alike’s gaze seared through her, making her sense he was searching inside her for the right answer. “Of course, you can.” “No, she can’t.” The handsome announcer moved away from so fast, she nearly fell over. In fact, move wasn’t the right word. Leapt was more like it. “Hey, Mickale. Sorry. I guess I forgot she was taken. You know how it is when you see a beautiful woman.” Shrugging, he put on an innocent expression. Mickale’s upper lip lifted in a challenge. “Then maybe you need to take a memory course before your lapse of brain power winds up getting you torn apart. You know how it is.” He mimicked the announcer’s shrug and expression while his eyes glowed with a deadly threat. Bowing his head in submission, Brad-alike scooted backwards. “Yes, I do. But you can’t blame a guy for trying when your female is so irresistible, can you?” Without waiting for Mickale’s reply, he whirled and dashed off the stage. “I think I could have handled him myself, Mickale.” Who does he think he is? My guardian? Although another part of Syd experienced a tiny zing of excitement zip through her.

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“No, you couldn’t. He’s a full grown male shifter who could wipe the floor with you. Except that’s not what he wanted to do with you. If you know what I mean.” Syd squirmed as she realized the truth in his words, but held her head high with dignity. “Yeah, I know what you mean. He showed me a little attention and I liked it. I wouldn’t have done anything with him, of course. But it’s nice to know a handsome guy like Brad-alike is attracted to me.” “Brad-alike?” Mickale’s lip twitched as he covered his amusement. “Oh, well, whatever his name is.” “It’s William and he’s a player. In case you ever need to know.” Is this a strange conversation or what? Syd shrugged and started toward the steps. “Hey, Syd.” Mickale scooped her up from behind, lifting her off her feet as he hurried down the stairs. As the crowd dispersed to allow them to pass, Syd tried not to take offense at their giggles and snickers. “What do you think you’re doing?” Ignoring her question, he carried her into an empty back room where boxes filled with supplies were piled on top of other boxes. Setting her down, he crushed his mouth to hers and slid his hands under her short top to cup her breasts. She arched upward, wanting him to change positions and he obeyed her silent command as he pulled her top over her head and onto the floor. Ripping the lacy bra away in one motion, he brought her nipples to his mouth, pushed her breasts together, and suckled them. She moaned and reached for his jeans. “I like a man who knows what he wants. But you owe me a new bra.” His words muffled against her skin as his tongue swirled over her budding tits. “And this man knows what his woman wants. And I don’t mean a new bra. A little attention from a handsome man coming up.” He halted, startling her out of her enjoyment. “You do consider me handsome, right?” “Not at all.” “What?” She laughed at his stunned expression and took his face between her hands. “Fishing for compliments, huh? Mickale Morgan, you aren’t merely handsome, you’re downright edible gorgeous.” “Well, if you’re hungry, feel free to chow down. And I do mean down.” She giggled at his joke and tugged his jeans free as he did the same with hers. Gripping her bottom, he lifted her and placed her on top of one of the boxes. Thank goodness I didn’t have the cheeseburger I wanted for lunch or this box would squash flatter than a pancake. She spread her legs wide and wiggled her wetness against his growing erection. “Ooh, I love a man who goes commando.” “Then let’s make it mutual.” Twisting the side of her panties around his fingers, he yanked the material away. Note to self: Join the lingerie club at the store. I think I’m going to go through a lot of underwear with this guy. Wrapping around him, she used her legs to tug him to her. “Is this my prize for winning the contest?” “You got lucky, woman. I wasn’t in my finest form tonight.”

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She glanced down as she maneuvered his shaft into her. She gasped as his thick shaft pushed deeper and harder than she’d expected. “You could’ve fooled me.” A growl warmed her collarbone as he held her tightly, pumping into her with long, slow strokes. Whimpering her delight, she clutched him to her and matched his rhythm. “Hey! Mickale? Syd?” Syd smacked one hand over her mouth and the other over Mickale’s and shook her head emphatically. Taking her hand off his mouth, he grinned at her and answered the call. “The place better be on fire, Blair.” Oh, crap. Of all the people in the world, why did it have to be him? The giggle in her throat broke free and she covered her mouth with both hands. “Oh? Am I interrupting something?” Whispered words told them Blair wasn’t alone on the other side of the door. Mickale winked at her and lowered his pitch to a warning tone. “I’m warning you, man.” “Okay, okay. Don’t get all hot and bothered.” After a few titters, he added, “Oh, wait. You already are.” Syd bit the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing while Mickale grinned and rolled his eyes. “Blair, you’re pushing me.” “Maybe I’m pushing you, but I know who’s pumping you.” “Blair, I’m warning you.” “Oh, calm down, big guy. But make it quick because they want to give Syd her trophy.” Oh, hell. Sometimes you have to take the bait. “Blair?” Mickale bent his head and studied her, knowing something was up. “Yeah?” “I’ve already got my trophy.” She could hear Blair’s laughter even over Mickale’s guffaws. “Yeah, but Syd?” “Yes, Blair?” “The one out here is bigger.” She choked on her giggle as Mickale started to pull away. “Why you little—” Jerking him to her, she wiggled her eyebrows and shushed him. “Maybe so, but I bet it’s not as hot!” “Oh, good one, girlfriend. I’ll go tell William you’ll be there as soon as you’re done polishing your first trophy.” Unable to control her giggles any longer, she fell against Mickale and laughed until she cried. ***** How could Skeller have allowed his daughter to go with that guy? Joe Tanner knew there was something wrong about Mickale. And he was determined to find out what that something was.

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Joe stood outside the nondescript bar called The Hideaway and waited for Sydney to come outside. Three hours had passed, yet he knew he’d stay in his position all night if he had to. He wasn’t in love with Sydney—he never had been—but he did want her back. He wanted her married to him, making him Griswold Skeller’s son-in-law, thus securing his future leadership position in the hunters’ organization. Joe crouched behind the wall of the building across from the club as another couple exited through the door and walked down the street. Following Sydney from her birthday party—following her from outside the party since he hadn’t received an invitation—to this place was his duty as her future husband. At last, he heard Sydney’s voice as she and Mickale left the bar. He hid again and waited for them to approach their car. “Can you believe I won?” “Like I said, you got lucky.” Sydney danced around Mickale holding the statue of a wolf above her head. “Lucky? I don’t think so. It says right here, ‘First Place Howler.’ Luck didn’t have a darn thing to do with it.” Mickale scowled at her, but his slight smile betrayed the scowl. “If you hadn’t had a handicap you’d never have beaten me.” “Maybe not. But them’s the rules, bucko. You’re just mad because I haven’t shifted yet and I still beat you.” Sydney kissed the trophy and held it out to him. “You can hold it if you want to.” Shifted? What was Sydney talking about? Did she mean what he thought she meant? Cold, hard hate raked through Joe as he studied Sydney. Did she look different? Mickale held the car door open for her. Yet when she started to slide into the seat, he wedged her between the top of the car and the door, and pressed his body next to hers. “I’m not mad.” Mickale leaned closer and ran the tip of his tongue over her lips. Seeing his intimate touch sent bolts of pure rage streaking inside Joe. “I’m proud of you. And, by the way, when you howled, you did shift. At least a little.” Sydney shifted? If she’d changed then that meant she had to be a…. Joe couldn’t, wouldn’t accept the possibility. “Wait a sec. I did? Are you sure?” Oh, hell. Joe ground his teeth and waited for the answer he knew he didn’t want to hear. What would Skeller say if he knew his daughter had gone over to the beast side of the night? And if she was a werewolf, then Mickale had to be the one who’d converted her. He gripped the edge of the brick wall and wished he’d brought a gun. Joe cringed as he watched Mickale slip a hand under her t-shirt and cup her breast. “When you started howling, I saw your fangs start to sprout and tufts of hair pop out along your neckline. Plus, your fingertips grew a little and sharpened on the ends. It was sexy as hell.” Joe leaned against the wall as his knees threatened to buckle under him. Head down, he tried to sort through everything he’d heard. She’d howled? What the hell was going on here? What had Sydney gotten herself mixed up in? “Hey, you two love pups, where you off to?”

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The new voice brought Joe’s head up to see a skinny male join Mickale and Sydney. Was he another shifter? He shuddered thinking about the disgusting animals standing less than twenty feet from him. “Back to my place.” Sydney held up her trophy. “Is this cool or what?” “Definitely cool.” The skinny one ruffled Mickale’s hair and received a snarl for his gesture. “Especially since you beat out the reigning champion.” “Watch it, Blair. Remember she had handicap points.” “Well, la-di-da. Look whose snout is out of whack. They didn’t even bother counting points after she got done. Miss Sydney here was the pack’s favorite, paws down.” Saliva ran in Joe’s mouth as the tension in his body heated up. It’s true. Sydney is a shifter and running around with the hounds from Hell. I have to tell Skeller. “You’re off base, Blair. I’m proud of my girl.” Vomit soured his mouth as he fought to keep from throwing up. His girl? As if he’d heard Joe’s thoughts, Blair asked the question running through Joe’s mind. “So? What’s your father think of Mickale? And does he know you’ve mated? What pack does your family belong to, Syd?” Blair pursed his lips and struck a fist on his hip. “Or are you two keeping secrets? Hmm?” “No secrets here.” Mickale opened the door wider to let Sydney into the car. “You’ll have to go back to reading The Enquirer for your conspiracy theories.” He patted Blair on the cheek and walked around to the driver’s side. “Good thing Devlin and I learned to drive, huh?” “Yeah and don’t change the subject. Ya gotta give me something about Ms. Thang’s family.” “The only thang you need to know is that we’re mated. End of discussion.” Mickale paused as he started to get in and turned to the building where Joe hid. “Do you smell something, Blair?” Joe ducked, putting his back flat against the wall. Now was not the time to get caught. “Uh, yeah, I smell something all right.” “What is it? Do you smell hunter?” Joe held his breath and again wished he’d remembered to pack a gun. At least, he had his knife on him. He reached into his back pocket, brought out the switchblade, and flicked it open. Not much against two—make that three—werewolves but at least he’d go down fighting. “No. I smell deception. Deceit. And two people trying really hard to keep me from finding out about Syd’s family. I wonder why?” Joe heard Mickale’s laughter and decided to get out while he could. Careful not to disturb any of the refuse and trash in the alleyway, he sneaked down the corridor and around the rear of the building. Safely out of hearing, he ran for his car parked a block away. Once there, he didn’t waste any time getting on the highway and heading straight for Skeller’s home. Not bothering to park in the driveway, Joe skidded the car parallel to the house, bumping his tire against the curb. He’d barely managed to turn off the ignition before he flung himself out of the driver’s side and hit the ground running to the front door.

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“Skeller! Open up!” He bounced back and forth on his feet as he pounded on the door. When his pounding didn’t have an immediate result, he stabbed his thumb against the doorbell. “Skeller, it’s Joe.” A disgruntled Skeller threw the door wide and stepped over the threshold, pushing Joe back a step. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Do you realize what time it is?” Joe tried to sidestep Skeller, but couldn’t. “Let’s go inside. I need to talk to you. It’s important and not something you want the neighbors to hear.” Skeller scrutinized him for a moment, then motioned for him to come inside. Signaling to Joe to keep his voice low, Skeller led him into his den. Once the door was closed, Skeller crossed to his desk and sat on the cheap leather chair. “Okay, go ahead. What’s so damned urgent it couldn’t wait a few more hours until morning?” Joe flopped on the chair in front of the desk as his adrenalin started pouring out of him, leaving him exhausted. “I’ve got something you need to hear, but I’m not sure how to tell you.” “Just spit it out. Two o’clock in the morning is too early to pussy-foot around.” Joe put his head down, tried to think of a way to ease into the truth, and gave up when nothing popped into his head. “There’s no easy way to say this, Skeller. And you know how much I care for Sydney, so I’m torn up about this. But you’ve got a right to know.” “Crap, will you get with it already?” Joe brought up his head and stared into Skeller’s concerned face. “Sydney’s a shifter.” He waited for the outraged response, the stunned response of a loving father getting horrific news about his one and only daughter, and got nothing. Zilch. Nada. Nothing at all. Maybe the man was in shock and couldn’t react? “Did you hear what I said?” Skeller leaned forward to place his forearms on the desk. “I heard you. I was trying to figure out if I’d missed some kind of holiday. Like April Fools Day. Or Kid Your Favorite Hunter Day. Because if this isn’t part of some stupid holiday tradition, I’m going to get my gun and shoot you right now.” He stood up in one quick movement, going around the desk to pull Joe to his feet. “Otherwise, you woke me up in the middle of the night to call my daughter a dirty name. And no one says anything bad about my girl without getting a little retribution in return.” Wrapping his arm around Joe’s shoulders, Skeller started leading him to the door. “However, since we’re friends, and you and Sydney once had a relationship, I’m going to let this pass. But just this once, mind you.” Joe squirmed out of the arm hold to pace to the opposite wall. “I’m not kidding. I’m as serious as I can get. You know her new friend, Mickale?” “Sure, I do. Oh, is that what this is all about? Don’t worry, Joe, he’s not a threat to you. He’s gay. So if you’re thinking he’s going to take her away from you, then rest easy. He’s not any competition for you.” “No, man, you’ve pegged him all wrong.” Skeller ran his hand over his chin and returned to his chair. “Joe, buddy, I outted him this evening—I mean yesterday evening—before my whole family. Look, I know it upset you when Sydney didn’t invite you to her birthday party, but don’t let it get to you. Give her some time and—”

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Joe picked up a glass frog from a nearby table and threw it against the wall shattering it to pieces. “What the fuck are you doing?” Skeller advanced on Joe, ready to tear him apart. “You know how Miriam loves her stupid frog collection.” Realizing his mistake, Joe bent to retrieve the pieces. “I’m sorry. But you need to listen to me.” “Forget cleaning up and get the hell out of my house.” As he rose to confront Skeller again, Joe pulled out his last chance to convince him. “I followed Sydney and Mickale to a club tonight.” “Yeah? So? I know Mickale took her to meet some of his loosy-goosy friends. So he took her to a gay bar. So what? Can you think of a safer place for a woman?” “He took her to a werewolf bar.” At the hard glint in Skeller’s eyes, Joe continued with more fervor. “That’s right. I know where there’s a whole bar full of shifters.” “If you’re certain, we need to get the group together for a major attack. I’m sure Sydney and Mickale didn’t know about the bar’s patrons. It had to be an accident.” “It was no accident. But right now we need to focus on Sydney. She needs both of us. We’ll raid the bar later.” He saw Skeller’s indecision and pounced on it. “Listen to me. I saw them kiss and it wasn’t any old friendly kiss, either. And I smelled him, man. I smelled his shifter smell and one of his buddies smelled the same way.” Skeller’s eyes narrowed on Joe. “You’re wrong. Besides, who can smell anything over all the cologne he pours on?” “Have you ever thought that maybe he pours it on for a reason? Like trying to hide another smell.” “I can’t believe this.” A calm coursed through Joe as he recognized the slow dawning of acceptance in Skeller’s eyes. “They’ve played us, man. Hell, they played the whole hunter group. And what’s more, I overheard them talking about Sydney shifting tonight. She’s gone over to the beasts. She’s Mickale’s mate and—” Skeller’s hand was around his neck before he finished speaking. “You lie. I know you want Sydney to marry you, but I never thought you’d tell this kind of filthy lie. Take it back.” “No. I can’t.” Joe croaked out the words with what little air he could force through the chokehold on his throat. “It’s true.” As he continued to struggle with the shorter, stronger man, he watched Skeller’s face for any sign of letting him go. At last, the man tossed him away to land with a thud against the wall. Skeller’s features twisted into a mask of torment. “I need proof. I can’t and I won’t believe my daughter’s one of those without proof.” Coughing, Joe sputtered out his plan. “Then we’ll get proof. Leave it to me.”

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Chapter Eight “I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.” Syd wiggled in the seat between the two men and glanced at Mickale who sat staring out the window of her father’s truck with a hang dog expression. She chuckled at the term but doubted he’d appreciate the comparison. “Where is this place anyway and why didn’t I get this birthday surprise, you know, like on my birthday?” “Because I didn’t get it in time. Besides, can’t a father give his daughter another present? Who cares if it’s after her birthday?” Something’s not right. Syd could sense it in her bones and the quick, furtive glance her father sent Mickale didn’t help calm her jangled nerves. “I don’t understand why you insisted I come along. Isn’t this a thing between father and daughter?” Syd heard the growl in Mickale’s tone and shot him a warning glare. Even if her father was a hunter, he didn’t have to act so grouchy around him. “At the risk of sounding like a little kid, can I ask…are we there yet?” Normally her father would have laughed at her corny joke. But this time, he kept his gaze on the road and nodded. Now I know something’s off. “We’re almost there.” Skeller wiped one of his palms on his khaki slacks, lending more support to the troops blowing bugles to sound the alarm inside her brain. Syd was about to ask more questions when her father pulled his truck in front of an unfamiliar aluminum-sided building with a military barrack’s air about it. Oh, this is so not good. “Okay, we’re here.” Skeller opened his door and waited for them to pile out. Since when had her father ever waited for anyone? He always steamed ahead, letting anyone with him trail behind. “What is this place, Dad?” Syd’s heart thumped an irregular rhythm as she caught Mickale’s concerned expression. “This looks like a place where your hunter friends would meet.” All the signs came together to hit her squarely in the chest then; the khaki slacks her father wore to hunter meetings, his insistence to drive the truck he drove to meetings and hunts, and the presence of rifles behind the seat. Her father was ready to hunt shifters. Would Skeller try to trick them into going on another hunt? She laced her arm through Mickale’s and held on. “Uh, Dad, I’m not feeling well. I think maybe we should postpone, uh, whatever it is you have planned.” Her father’s hard stare twisted her heart as much as her gut. “I wouldn’t doubt you’re sick what with you hanging around Mr. Fragrance Factory so much. No, Sydney. Other people are waiting inside and they’ve put a lot of effort into this surprise. You’re not going to disappoint them.” Wow. Can you bark an order any louder, Skeller? “Sheesh, is this a present or an order, Dad?” Mickale studied them a moment and Syd was sure she could see the wheels whirring in his mind. “I think Syd’s right. Her health comes first. Let’s do this another day.”

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Her father’s hand on her other arm left room for no argument. Still, she could tell he tried to keep his voice level and light. Too bad he failed. “Sydney Skeller, you will not be rude. Let’s go.” Skeller’s rough tug on her arm made her lose her grip on Mickale as he dragged her toward the door. She looked back, wondering what Mickale would do. He watched her, his stare speaking volumes even as he began to follow them. “I’m doing this for you, Sydney.” With those fateful words, her father pushed her ahead of him and into the great hall comprising most of the building. A dozen or so men and women turned like one big human welcoming committee as they entered. Without hesitating to offer a greeting, Skeller pulled her toward the center of the room and the group formed a circle around them. Although she could hear and smell Mickale near her, she could also sense the silent warning signals he sent her. “Mr. Skeller, what’s going on?” Mickale spoke his words softly, yet with a deadly edge to them. She wondered if her father would pick up on the warning. “Hey, Sydney. How’s everything with your new lover-toy?” Syd twirled in a circle, seeking out the man she dreaded seeing. Joe, dressed all in brown fatigues, sneered at her. “What’s going on, Joe? Did you set this…this meeting up?” Joe’s laughter sounded mean and cruel in her ears. “We’re here to take you back into the daylight, Sydney. Back into the human race.” Panic dried her mouth, yet she wouldn’t give Joe the satisfaction of knowing she knew what he meant. “I didn’t know I’d ever left it.” She chanced a peek at Mickale who’d planted his feet wide, readying himself for action. “My daughter’s not a shifter.” Her father rotated so he could look everyone in the eye once. “That’s what this is all about. We’re going to prove she’s not. Even if he is.” He pointed at Mickale; the accusation diverting the crowd’s attention away from her. Fear dried Syd’s mouth as she darted her gaze from her father to Mickale and back. How could any father do this to his daughter? “Dad, don’t be crazy. Mickale’s no more a shifter than I am.” She held her breath and hoped the lie wouldn’t show on her face. “I saw you, Sydney. I saw you and this beast outside the shifter club. And you had a trophy. What was it for again? Oh, yeah. For being voted the Best Howler.” Joe raised his voice, letting his words flow over the people. The group responded, talking among themselves as they scrutinized Syd and Mickale. But it was the underlying mean rumble that scared Syd the most. Joe stepped closer to Mickale. “You still stink to high heaven. But at least the cologne stench is better than shifter stink.” Mickale threw Syd a meaningful look and answered, “Maybe so, but this way I don’t have to smell you.” Several men near Joe chuckled, only to have Joe glare them into silence. “You think you’re funny? I wonder how funny you’ll be when your hide is hanging on my wall.” Mickale’s lips twitched up at the corners. “Not as funny as you’ll be when I pick my teeth with your bones.” A muffled shout caused everyone to turn and glance at the door, but when they didn’t see anything, they turned back around.

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“See? His true colors are showing. He’s talking like a werewolf.” Joe crowed, waving his arms at his hunter buddies. “Didn’t I tell you he was one of them?” Syd’s heart skipped a beat only to start performing hip-hop in her chest. Somehow she had to get Mickale out of here. And herself, too. “No, no, Joe. You misheard him. He said he’d like to use a toothpick on your sexy bones. You know you have a problem with dental hygiene.” “Huh? What the hell are you talking about?” Since her joke didn’t pan out, Syd went into Plan B. Without thinking about how she might appear, she uttered a shrill hysterical titter. “Mickale a shifter? Oh, Joe, you always were a funny guy but, come on. Mickale? A shifter? A nasty, vile, disgusting creature like a werewolf?” She took Mickale’s chin in her hand and shook his face. “Now I ask you, ladies, can you see this handsome, sweet-faced man changing into a big, bad wolf?” She checked out the women hoping to see them agreeing with her. Instead, the women ogled Mickale like he was the new centerfold for a pinup magazine. Shit, wrong question for the wrong group of girls. She stopped, gaped at the women hunters, and knew without a doubt that every one of them would hightail it into a cave with Mickale if he so much as wiggled a paw at them. Of course, they’d never admit it. Damn, not only did she have to keep the men from skinning him alive, she’d have to keep the women from eating him alive. ***** Hell, you’d think I was part cat. Blech! Blair tiptoed up to the odd military-style building to peek in the tiny window in the front door. Curiosity killed the cat and this cute puppy doesn’t have nine lives to lose. “I cannot believe Mickale walked in there on his own two feet. Couldn’t he smell the hunter odor? Then again, he probably couldn’t smell anything with all the cologne surrounding him in a fog of stink.” Blair wiped the grime from the glass and pressed his nose to the pane. Shifting enough to enhance his eyesight and hearing, he watched as Syd’s father pulled Mickale and Syd into the middle of the organization of hunters. The crowd swallowed them up, obscuring Blair’s view. “Oh, piddle-poop, how am I supposed to know what’s going on with all those bodies in the way? Move, people, move.” Yet instead of dispersing, the group moved closer together as if penning his friends in the middle. Oh, for the love of a good man, what is going on in there? Blair frowned, caught his reflection in the clean spot of glass, gasped, and consciously smoothed his features. After all, his getting wrinkles wouldn’t help Mickale or Syd. “Hey, Sydney. How’s everything with your new lover-toy?” Ooh, what a nice, strong voice. I wonder who it belongs to. And most important of all, how do I meet him? Blair stretched up higher, darting his gaze around the throng. “Shoot, Mr. Deep Throat must be in the center along with Syd and Mickale. Please Oh, Powers of the Universe, tell me such a sexy voice does not belong to a hunter. I don’t think I could bear the disappointment.” “What’s going on, Joe? Did you set this…this meeting up?”

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Blair’s ears twitched as he heard Syd’s voice. She didn’t sound happy. Could this Joe creature have planned a trap? As if answering his question, a low cruel laugh floated back to him. “We’re here to take you back into the daylight, Sydney. Back into the human race.” Oh, sheesh, Mr. Honey Mouth is a hunter. I have all the bad luck. Blair puffed out a breath of air and pranced on his tiptoes to relieve the stress building up in his calves. Thank goodness for all those hours of ballet! “I didn’t know I’d ever left it.” Thata girl, Syd! Let ‘em know you’re one of the good guys. Blair pumped his fist in the air in triumph. He didn’t know her well, but Mickale’s Syd sounded like a good woman. Perhaps deciding to trail them to find out more about her was a good idea, after all. Wait a sec. Syd’s dad is a hunter? How did Mickale get mixed up with a hunter’s daughter? Talk about the odd couple! “My daughter’s not a shifter. That’s what this is all about. We’re going to prove she’s not. Even if he is.” Blair rolled his eyes. Denial, thy name is Daddy. But then, the parents of the converted always had a difficult time accepting their child’s new “lifestyle.” A flash of memory reminded Blair of the night he’d told his parents that he was both gay and a shifter. He’d given them a double whammy. Could he help it if his first excursion into gay love had involved a homosexual werewolf? “Dad, don’t be crazy. Mickale’s no more a shifter than I am.” Blair tsked at Syd’s lie. Just when I thought she was a standup kind of gal. “I saw you, Sydney. I saw you and this beast outside the shifter club. And you had a trophy. What was it for again? Oh, yeah. For being voted the Best Howler?” “There’s Mr. Sexy Mouth again. Oh, goody, he gets into spying. I wonder what other games he likes to play?” Blair fingered his lower lip remembering the smell Mickale had mentioned noticing outside the club. One small mystery solved. “You still stink to high heaven. But at least the cologne stench is better than shifter stink.” Blair choked on a laugh as his hand slapped over his mouth. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. At least Mickale’s stink washes off. He paused and waited for the retort he knew had to come. “Maybe so, but this way I don’t have to smell you.” Good one, Mickale! Blair spun around in a circle, delighting in the barb. “You think you’re funny? I wonder how funny you’ll be when your hide is hanging on my wall.” Blair jumped back to the glass, afraid of missing a single word. He knew Mickale wouldn’t let Mr. Big Mouth—forget I ever called you Mr. Honey Mouth—get away with anything. “Not as funny as you’ll be when I pick my teeth with your bones.” “You tell ‘em, Mickey!” Blair ducked as several hunters swung around to stare at the door. Shut your trap, Blair Boo, or they’ll be out here to string you up by your fluffy, gorgeous tail. “See? His true colors are showing. He’s talking like werewolf. Didn’t I tell you he was one of them?”

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Blair dared to pop up and take a quick peek. When he noticed that the hunters had turned back to Syd and Mickale, he exhaled the breath he’d held in check and resumed his position at the window. Oh, crap, they do know. Mickale’s ass is in big trouble. Blair stepped away from the door, started to scurry away from the building, and then stopped. Could he leave Mickale and Syd in there? If he ran and got help, would they arrive in time? But what could one frail, albeit fascinating, wolf do? “I have to help them.” Taking two purposeful strides forward, Blair paused as anxiety slammed him in the gut. “I do, don’t I?” Did he? No one knew where he was. He could leave and no one would know. He thinned his lips and concentrated. No one would know…except him. “My balls are used for lovin’, not killin’. This is no time for bravery, Blair.” Yet he knew he couldn’t leave. “Damn, Blair Boy, you’ve hung around with Mickale way too long.” Taking a resolute stand, Blair marched to the door, checked inside to make sure the hunters still had their attention on the poor souls in their midst, and pushed through the door. Luck was with him—finally!—when not one of the hunters bothered checking out the sound of the door opening. Taking advantage of their attention on the sight before them, Blair scooted his body through the crowd. For added protection, he lowered his voice and murmured just loud enough to be heard. “’Scuse me, buddy. Uh, sorry, ma’am. Coming through.” Please, don’t let them smell me! After several agonizing moments, Blair made his way to the center of the crowd and a ringside seat to the show. Mickale stood tall, his brilliant eyes blazing away, as he confronted a handsome, shorter hunter. Was this Joe? Well, I can’t say much for his hairstylist, but he does have some kind of a “takeme-I’m-yours” aura about him. Blair studied the familiar-looking, squarely-built man glaring at Mickale So this was Mr. Honey Mouth? A smile lifted the corners of his mouth as recognition swept through him. If he took away the military drab drag and put him in a nice mesh shirt and tushy-tight yellow shorts, then this was no mere hunter. This hunter was also the lead dancer at the hottest gay bar in town, Boy Toys. He should know since he’d stuck enough dollar bills in his waistband to buy the Italian shoe boutique he’d always dreamed of owning. Yet Blair didn’t have time to reflect on Joe’s alternate identity as the argument continued, stirring the tension in the room to a fever pitch. “Mickale a shifter? Oh, Joe, you always were a funny guy but, come on. Mickale? A shifter? A nasty, vile, disgusting creature like a werewolf?” Blair grinned as Syd took Mickale’s chin in her hand and shook his face. “Now I ask you, ladies, can you see this handsome, sweet-faced man changing into a big, bad wolf?” Syd paused, waiting for a reaction from the women. “I’ll bet my new rifle once you get the cologne washed off him, he’ll smell even nastier with shifter shit on him.” Joe raised his arm and waved toward the other side of the room. “To the showers!” To Blair’s horror, the hunters around him closed in and surged toward Mickale and Syd. Carried along with the crowd, Blair managed to push away, driving his body off to the side of his friends. Instead, he ended up standing close to Joe.

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Cries filled with hate as the hunters grabbed a struggling Mickale and carried him toward another room. Blair watched, terrified, as Syd’s father clutched her, holding her to him. They followed the mob taking Mickale away, but stayed right outside the door to the shower room. I’ve got to do something. Blair bit off a fingernail as he tried to force his brain to work. Think, Blair, think. What would Mickale do if the situation was reversed? He shook his head as the answer came to him. Mickale would tear the place apart to keep Blair safe. He lifted his eyes and dared to glance at Joe. He might not be the biggest hunter Blair had ever faced, but he wasn’t willing to find out if he was the strongest. No, he needed to use his mind and not his brawn. Fortunately for Mickale and Syd, Blair did have a lot of brain power and more body power in wolf form. Taking Joe by the arm, he shifted enough to give him the added strength he needed. Although Joe protested, Blair managed to drag him toward the shower room’s entrance. But he wasn’t ready for the push Blair gave him as he shoved him into the nearby coat closet. Blair closed the slatted door as quietly as he could considering his other hand was clutching the shirt of a very irate hunter. “Shush, Josephine Boner or I’ll scream rape.” Joe froze and Blair almost giggled at the frightened expression on Joe’s face as the light filtered in through the slats of the wooden door. “That’s right, sweetie. I know who you are.” Blair tripped his eyes up and down Joe’s body. “That is your stage name at Boy Toys, isn’t it?” Joe’s mouth fell open in shock at the mention of his role at the gay strip club. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Shush. Keep your voice down. I wouldn’t want the other hunter folk to know we’re in here.” He batted his eyelids at Joe and was rewarded to see the man cringe. “Would you?” Joe shook his head so hard Blair thought it might fall off. “No!” Lowering his voice, Joe answered again. “No. Please.” Blair paused to listen to the ruckus from the next room. Splashing sounds mixed with curses and shouts as Mickale fought against his attackers. “Josephine Boner, I am so not happy with you. First you don’t recognize one of your best customers…” Blair leveled his gaze on Joe’s crotch. “and then your buddies take my best friend, shove him in the shower, and are probably an inch away from skinning him alive.” “I can’t help you.” Joe pushed his back against the wall of the closet as if he could force his way through the cement blocks when Blair blocked his exit. “Oh, I think you can, honey bunny. Either that or I’m going out there and shine some light on your deep, dark secret. First as a transsexual go-go dancer and then as a wolf lover.” He leaned toward Joe, blew him a kiss, and laughed as the hunter squealed. Syd’s cries for help as she struggled with her father intensified the anger in Blair as he shifted to bare his fangs. “I’m not much on outing fellow alternative lifestyle enthusiasts, but I’ll do it to save my friends. Besides, as cute as you are, I still don’t like hunters. So, unless you want your macho man image crushed, you’d better get your sweet ass out there and help them.” Joe almost broke the door as he tore it open and flung his body toward the shower room. Syd and her father gaped as Joe rushed past them with Blair waving as he scampered toward the front door and threw them a kiss. “Never fear, Syd dear. Blair was here.”

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***** “Blair?” Syd struggled against the iron lock her father had on her arm. “What the hell is he doing here?” Her father gathered his wits long enough to gawk after Blair. “Another one? You know another shifter?” He took her other arm to twist her to him. “How many of those animals do you know?” His friends were about to hurt her lover and her father had the nerve to call them animals? “Skeller, let me go!” Throwing her arms up and outward in a spiral, she heaved off her father’s grip and dashed into the shower room. Mickale stood in the middle of the hunters, dripping wet from the shower spray behind him. Yet she knew from the bodies of the three hunters sprawled at his feet, they hadn’t taken him under the water without a fight. “Mickale!” His murderous gaze diverted from the hunter in front of him to her and she saw the transformation taking place. Fangs protruded from his mouth as his hair grew longer and coarser. Unable to take the time to remove his clothes, his shirt started shredding as his torso began the shift. “Sydney, you don’t want to see this.” Her father was beside her again, yet this time he didn’t bother trying to hold her. When had everything gone so wrong? How had her father found out? She refused to believe her mother told him. She had a good hunch that Joe was responsible for this. Syd heard Mickale’s growl, sending her adrenaline pumping into high gear. “You have to stop them.” She confronted her father, pleading and demanding at the same time. “Stop them for me.” Skeller stared at her and, in a split second, Syd knew she couldn’t be related to this man. No one that heartless could have created her. “I’m letting them do this for you, Sydney. After he’s gone, we’ll figure out the rest.” What did he mean? Yet another growl had her whirling around to find Joe standing at the other end of the room, his face an anguished mask. “Joe!” Why wasn’t Joe jumping into the mix? Wasn’t this his idea? Joe shook his head at her and motioned for her to stay back. Yeah, like I’ll do anything you tell me to do. She clenched her fists, gritted her teeth and got ready to fling her body at the nearest female hunter. If Mickale went down, she’d damn well go with him. Syd screamed—wow, that sounded more like a howl—and threw her body at the stout woman in front of her. The women hit the floor together and rolled against the legs of another hunter, bringing him down on top of them. She humphed as his weight hit her ribcage, amazing her when she didn’t feel any of her bones breaking. In fact, if she didn’t know better, she’d swear her ribcage had expanded. An answering growl and yell resounded around the room as Syd fought with the two hunters on top of her. She saw the woman’s expression change from anger to fear, and assumed Mickale’s howl had frightened her. But she hadn’t expected the male hunter to gape at her as if her head had split open, letting three-headed aliens crawl out of her forehead. A

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power, unlike any zap of adrenaline she’d ever experienced before, surged through her. Talk about a rush! If this is what happens in a fight, I want more! Syd grinned, keeping her struggle with the two hunters going even as she crooked her head to get a glimpse of Mickale. But what she saw surprised her more than anything she’d ever seen. Joe stood between the mob of hunters and Mickale. It looks like Joe’s defending Mickale. Nah, I must’ve gotten hit in the head too hard. Syd blinked a couple of times, punched the woman in the mouth, and checked her vision again. Yep, that’s what it looks like. Joe stood with his feet planted apart in true “come and get me” style and held up the leg from a broken chair as a weapon. Behind him, a confused and stunned Mickale changed back into human form. Run, Mickale! Run while you have the chance! Syd opened her mouth to call to Mickale. Instead of the words she’d meant to say, a long, high-pitched snarl escaped her throat. She stopped, darting her gaze to the hunters on top of her who had stopped scrapping with her. The woman fell off Syd, letting the man pull her away. Both showed expressions of revulsion. Who did they think they were, anyway? Sure, her hair must be a mess and her clothes were torn and dirtied. But what’d they expect in a fight? But for them to look at her with such repugnance was more than she thought necessary. “Hey, you two don’t look so hot, either, you know. Don’t throw stones until you take a gander at yourself in a mirror. Or however the saying goes.” She rose and tried to adjust her ill-fitting clothing. A cold numbing trepidation spread over her as she straightened up and pivoted in a clockwise circle. Now the hunters surrounded her. She looked past the hunters standing in front of her and saw Joe pulling a struggling, but obviously exhausted, Mickale through another door. Yay! Mickale’s getting away! She smiled as the relief woke up her body. But the relief was short-lived as the realization of her situation flowed into her brain. Oh, crap. Now I’m their intended victim. Alarm blasted another course of power through her and she wheeled around to find her father. He stood, just inside the circle of hunters, shaking his head. With the lethargic movements of an old man, he pointed at her. “Oh, dear God, Sydney. You are one.” She glared at him, unwilling to try and interpret his meaning. “I’m one what? Spit if out, Skeller. And, if you haven’t noticed, I’m in a bit of trouble here. A little help would be nice.” Why did he act as if he didn’t understand her? His glazed-over eyes cleared as he took in the hunters advancing on his daughter. “You changed.” She growled—growled?—at the angry people inching closer to her. “What’re you talking about? I don’t have time for guessing games. Could you lend me some support, please?” Her father again studied the group and shook his head again. However, this time the head shaking made his eyes even clearer and a new determination took over. “Back off, everyone.” He strode toward her with pain evident in his jerky body movements, and placed his back to her. “Sydney’s my daughter and I’ll take care of her.” “A shifter’s a shifter. Doesn’t matter whose kid she is.” The man with a couple of teeth missing spat his words at her father and leered at Syd. “We came here for a kill and we’re going to get one.”

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“How do you know I’m a shifter, huh?” Syd fisted her hands on her hips and challenged them. “You can’t prove anything. What is this? Guilt by association?” “Uh, Sydney, be quiet. We can’t understand half of what you’re saying. Your words are all garbled.” Her father stepped back to stand beside her, taking her hand in his, as he directed his statement to Mr. Toothless. “You don’t know.” The woman she’d fought laughed, pulled a mirror out of her pocket, and tossed it to Syd. “Are you guys trying to be funny? Her face is all the proof we need.” Syd caught the mirror and checked out her reflection. She gasped as she studied her face. Tufts of red hair ran along her jaw and brought her gaze to the fangs sticking out over her lips. Yet it was the amber twinkling in her blue eyes that caused her heart to skip a beat. “I shifted.” Grinning like a kid in a toy store, Syd looked at her reflection as if truly seeing herself for the first time in her life. “I really did it. I shifted. Er, at least part of the way.” “So now you’re going to tell us we don’t know what a shifter looks like?” The woman moved a step closer and sniffed. “Damn, you’re even starting to smell like a shifter.” Okay, maybe this wasn’t the best time to celebrate her new-found identity. Syd made a face at the woman and tossed back her mirror. “Uh, I guess it’s too late for me to tell you about my unwanted hair problem? And my overbite?” She blew out a puff of air as the hunter female ignored her joke and motioned for the others to move in. “Okay then, would ya believe I’m in costume?” The yank on her arm had her spinning around and she stumbled as her father pummeled his way through the ranks of the hunters. Even though he was only one man—one human man—he fought with the strength of ten as he made a path through the circle. Once outside the group of shouting hunters, he pushed her ahead of him toward the same door Joe and Mickale had used for their escape. Syd broke through the door and ran outside to the parking lot. ***** “Oh, bless my cute, furry butt, what have I done?” Blair fidgeted, biting his nails as he kept watch on the building. “Why did I trust a hunter to save Mickale?” He wrung his hands, caught sight of a chewed fingernail, and sighed, diverted for a moment from the disaster happening to his friends. “Just look what all this drama is doing to my nails.” A loud crash from inside the building brought his attention back to the more critical problem. “That bitch Joe is probably in there helping them rip Mickale’s heart out. Then he’ll sic those bastards on me before I have a chance to spill my guts.” He blanched and pressed his fingers to his mouth. “Ooh, Blair Boo, what a poor choice of words.” Wrapping his arms around his body, he waited and tried to ignore the shouts he heard, but couldn’t. “I’m going to have to go back in.” He grimaced and whined like a young pup. “But I don’t wanna go back in.” Joe and Mickale burst through the side door, skidded as they checked the area around them, saw Blair, and changed direction toward him. Blair wiped a tear away as relief flooded through him. “Oh, thank the lucky stars above me! You’re all right!”

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Although looking as though he’d gone through a gigantic blender, Mickale sprinted in front of Joe to take Blair’s shirt in his fist. “Come on, Blair. Syd’s still in there.” He almost yanked Blair off his feet in his haste to return to the building. Blair stumbled along as Mickale dragged him toward the side door. “Mickey, don’t you think we’d better take care of Joe first?” Mickale stopped, glanced between the building and Joe, and reversed direction. Tearing off what little remained of his clothing, he shifted as a terrified Joe ran for his pickup truck. Blair hopped back and forth, trying to figure out which direction he should take. He bit his lip, envisioning himself marching into a group of hunters alone. “Uh, uh. No way am I going back inside without Mickale.” But that left him with only one alternative. “I’m right behind you, Mickey!” Joe’s scream drowned out the shouting from inside as the large wolf landed on his back, throwing him to the ground. Saliva from Mickale’s fang-filled jaws landed on Joe’s neck as Mickale bent his head to Joe’s. Blair slid to a stop next to the pair. “Yuck, Mickale. How crass.” Yet having Mickale take charge was a relief. “You lousy scumbag. You set this up.” Mickale slashed Joe’s back, eliciting more cries of fear from the hunter who was too frightened to struggle. Blair almost felt sorry for him. Almost. “But you know what? I don’t mind you setting me up. I’d expect a hunter to do that. But to put your ex-girlfriend in danger—someone you say you care about—is low, man. Even lower than being a hunter.” Blair giggled. “How low can you go, Joe?” “Get off of me! I swear I won’t come near you or Sydney ever again.” Mickale lifted his prey by the back of the neck and shook him like a rag doll. “You bet you won’t. Setting people up is going to get real difficult from your new home in the ground. Six feet under with no cable television. What a drag.” “Mickey, don’t you think you need to go back for Syd now?” Mickale looked up at Blair as if suddenly remembering he was there. The amber in his eyes dimmed a little at the mention of Syd’s name, but then the hate, the anger, intensified again. “You’re right.” Snarling, he turned back to Joe. “You stay here with Blair. You move. You die. Get it?” Without waiting for Joe to answer, Mickale hopped off his back and motioned for Blair to take his place. He did so, enjoying the sensation of his bottom resting on Joe’s hard, muscular torso. Unable to resist the temptation, Blair started stripping off his clothes to morph. “Oh, Joey, sweetie. I knew we’d end up like this before the night was over. I just knew it. Here’s a little taste of what’s to come.” Pressing two fingers to his lips, he kissed the tips, and placed them on Joe’s cheeks. Joe squirmed, but Blair held him fast. “Hold on, big boy, you’re going to love Blair Wolf. Trust me.” Mickale laughed, whirled, and bolted toward the building. “Don’t let him get away, Blair.” “As you say, my lovey leader.” Bending over as Mickale had done, Blair put his mouth close to Joe’s ear and whispered, “Tell me the truth. You’ve always wanted to try wolf meat,

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haven’t you? How about I convert you so we can romp together under the moon for the rest of our long, long lives?” Joe tried to push up but the stronger Blair wolf held him down with one paw as he wagged a claw at his captive. “Uh, uh, uh. You heard what my Boss Dog said. Get it? Dukes of Hazzard’s Boss Hog? Only he’s my Boss Dog. Get it? Oh, sure, he’s really a wolf, but we’re all canines under the fur. Sheesh, you hunters have no sense of humor.” “Mickale! I shifted!” Blair turned at the sound of Syd’s voice. She and her father met Mickale as they slammed the side door closed. Blair watched as Mickale shifted to human and took a swing at Skeller. He knocked the older man to the ground and was about to jump on him when Syd stepped between them. “No time, Mickale. They’re coming after us and I don’t think the stuff we threw in their way will slow them down for long.” Nonetheless, she stayed long enough to hug him to her. “And I shifted. At least part of the way. Isn’t that cool?” Skeller scrambled to his feet and took Syd by the arm. “I’m taking her home with me and you’re not going to stop me.” A banging against the door jolted everyone, reminding them of the hunters trying to get out. Deciding he’d better help Mickale, Blair shouted to them and waved them over. “Let him, Mickale. He’ll take care of her and we’ll meet up with her later. But for right now, our pretty little butts better hightail it out of here.” He giggled and shrugged. “Get it? High tail? I don’t know how I keep coming up with these winners.” Without waiting for Mickale to agree, Skeller wrapped both hands around his daughter’s arm, tugged her along to his truck, and pushed her into the passenger side. Mickale glanced at the door where the pounding had grown stronger and louder. He morphed back into wolf form and dashed back to Blair and Joe. He glared at Joe. “He’d better not hurt her or I’m holding you responsible.” The door burst open, slamming against the wall with a thunderous bang. Hunters poured out of the building and split into two groups. Group one headed for Skeller’s truck, but he’d already turned on the motor and thrown the truck into gear. Skeller’s truck sprayed dirt and gravel at them as it peeled out of the parking lot. The second group wasted no time turning toward Blair, Mickale, and Joe. Mickale crouched as the first shot rang out, howled, and ran toward the surrounding trees. Blair, however, couldn’t resist one final jab at Joe. Widening his jaws so his teeth would shine from the light of a nearby lamplight—thank you, Crest Whitestrips!—he inclined his head as if he was going to bite the hunter. A scream and curse rose from Joe as he drew near his neck. Yet, instead of biting him, Blair readjusted his head so he could see the hunters. Grinning his best wolfish grin, Blair grabbed the hunter’s head in his paws, and laid the loudest smack he could on the stunned man’s lips. “Love ya, baby. Call me, okay?” Howling in triumph, Blair bolted up and rushed after Mickale. He smiled as he listened to the hunters descend on Joe and the pitiful protests he gave them. “Sure, Joe. Try and tell them you weren’t turned on by my toned body sitting on top of yours. After all, it wasn’t my

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hard pole propping up the tent in your pants.” He loped into the night, proud to have done his part to save his friends.

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Chapter Nine “Skeller, I swear to God—” His quick swerve around the curb threw Sydney against the truck door. “Don’t! Don’t even say a word while you’re in that condition. And stop calling me Skeller. I’m your dad.” She cringed as she recognized the hurt in his tone. Yet it felt more natural to call him Skeller than Dad. Once again, she wondered at how they could be so different. Sometimes, she couldn’t help but think of him, not as her father, but as someone else. As Skeller, the hunter. “Ow! Slow down before you get us and some other innocent person killed.” She shouldn’t have let him drag her into his car. But old habits were hard to break. Father calls; daughter comes. Skeller coughed out a sarcastic laugh. “Other innocent? Are you saying you consider yourself innocent?” So much for her father’s support. “No one is innocent or guilty, Dad. We’re all who we are; nothing more, nothing less. You sound like I’m pregnant instead of—” She almost knocked her head on the dashboard as Skeller slammed on the brakes in front of his house. “Instead of what, Sydney? Instead of being one of those things?” Pulling the visor down to look in the mirror, Syd glanced at her reflection for the thousandth time since getting in the truck. She couldn’t get over the fact that she’d partially shifted. She considered the tufts of hair along her jaw looked like furry badges of honor. Although Skeller would never agree. “Those things? I’m sorry to hurt you this way, but I’m proud of being a shifter. And as far as being pregnant, if I had my way, Mickale and I’d start making little fur balls tonight.” The stricken expression on her father’s face sliced through her slicker than any machete could have. Aw, hell, I’ve gone too far. Yet can’t he see how inevitable my situation is? Morphing into a werewolf wasn’t something she could just flip on and off like a light switch. Lycanthropy was her new existence, not just a trendy new lifestyle choice. He recovered, muttered a few choice words under his breath, and piled out of the car. Racing to her side of the vehicle, he had her by the hand, making her follow behind him before she could protest. She followed as she always had as a little girl, letting Daddy lead her. The front door nearly came off its hinges from the force he put behind his entrance, but he didn’t slow down when he reached the basement door. Forcing her along, he had her taking the basement stairs two at a time. Once they’d reached the bottom, she at last managed to catch her breath. “Griswold? Is that you?” Her mother’s voice floated down to them and Syd opened her mouth to answer. Skeller, however, slapped a hand over her mouth and shook his head as he sent her an unmistakable “shut your trap” warning. “Yeah, Miriam. I’m downstairs.” “Is someone with you? Is Sydney here?” They heard her footsteps as she crossed the floor above them until she stood near the door leading to the basement.

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Knowing her father would never lie to her mother, Syd arched an eyebrow and waited for him to answer. “Our daughter isn’t down here, Miriam.” Syd’s mouth fell wide before she found her voice to hiss at her father. “I don’t know which is worse, lying to Mom or inferring that I’m no longer your daughter.” If she didn’t know better, she’d swear she’d heard a crack break her heart in half. He blinked, a sign his determination was weakening, but the stone-hard expression returned quickly enough to dispel any hope he was letting her go anytime soon. “You change back, Sydney Skeller, right now. I’m giving you an order.” She laughed and he shushed her again. “Oh, sure, Pops. No problem. Let’s see.” She patted her pockets and came up empty. “Shoot, I think I left the werewolf remote at home. I’ll have to switch there.” At her angry glare, he pivoted and stalked to the other side of the room. “I can’t have my daughter be a shifter.” He looked at her as if hoping he’d find her five-years-old again and playing with Barbie. “I won’t let you stay this way. You didn’t transform all the way yet so there’s still hope.” The man’s grasping for a lifeline. Yet she couldn’t let him deny her any longer. “What’re you talking about? Once a person’s changed, she’s changed.” He paced back and forth with his head down, running his hand across his neck as if trying to knock the weight of the world from his shoulders. “I remember a rumor about a cure. An antidote.” Wow, he’s gone over the deep end. “It’s only a rumor. A fairy tale. A joke. You know no one’s ever found such a thing.” He stopped and raised his agonized face to hers. “I can’t give up. I can’t…” His words strangled together as he lost his voice. Coughing, he straightened up, resumed at least part of his normal bravado, and tried again. “If a cure is real, we’ll find it. I won’t let you down, honey.” The ache in his voice rid her of any animosity she had in her. “Daddy, it’s all right. I’ll always be your little girl. Nothing’s changed. Except maybe for a change in grooming habits. But I’m still me, down deep in my soul where it counts.” She started toward him and knew the pain of rejection as he backed away. “Dad?” “I can’t, honey. I can’t let you touch me when you’re like you are right now. And I won’t let your poor mother see you this way. It’ll break her heart.” Like you broke mine? Would he do the unthinkable and keep her from her own mother? Even though she’d never felt very close to either of her parents, she loved them and wanted them in her life. The tiny stab of doubt, the one she’d had off and on all her life, zipped through her and, as she always did, she sloughed it off. “So what are you saying? I’m barred from family get-togethers? No more Thanksgivings with the Skeller clan? Are you afraid I’ll howl at the fireworks on Independence Day? Or pee on the Christmas tree?” His stricken expression was back in full force. “I don’t know. I’ll think about those things later. But I can’t let Miriam see you. At least not until you change back into human form. All the way back.” “Sorry, but I’m not playing this game.” She waited for his response and, when she didn’t get one, she started toward the stairs.

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If anyone had asked her if her father would ever hurt her, she’d have laughed and told them they were crazy. Yet when he jumped in front of her, blocking her path up the steps, she sidestepped to put some distance between them. “You’re not going anywhere, Sydney.” He crossed his arms to emphasize his declaration. “Not until you get rid of any sign of werewolf on you.” So he did think she could turn if off and on. “You don’t understand. I can’t just say, ‘Wolf, wolf, go away. Come again another day.’ I think my body’s morphing more and more each second and making me mad isn’t going to make me stop its progress. Besides, she can smell shifter as well as you can.” The angst on his face was replaced with determination. “I’ve seen too many shifters change from human to wolf and return to human within seconds to believe you can’t do it, too. You’re staying down here until you change to human. And we’ll deal with the smell when we need to. Discussion over.” “Wow, talk about déjà vu. Isn’t this the same argument we had over curfew?” She grinned at him and hoped her levity would make him relent. “But Dad, all the wolf kids are doing it.” He grumbled something under his breath, making her wish she’d kept her mouth shut. Griswold Skeller grumbling was never a good thing. He wasn’t budging. “You know what you have to do, Sydney.” With one last grumble, he turned and started up the stairs. “Where’re you going?” Syd hopped onto the first step yet, by that time, he’d hurried up and gotten to the top. “Are you serious?” Without saying another word, he crossed the threshold, took one last look at her, and shut the door. She heard the click of the lock. ***** “Griswold, what do you think you’re doing?” Miriam stood behind her husband as he flipped through the pages in the phone book. “Nothing, Miriam.” When she tried to peek over his shoulder, he adjusted his bulk to obscure her view. The less she knew about Sydney, the better. But how could he keep what’s happened from her? “Don’t treat me like some mindless twit. I can see something terrible’s got you all worked up. Is it Sydney? Is she all right?” He wanted to tell her. Wanted someone to share his pain, the loss he felt. Wanted her to help him through this. At last, he saw the number he needed, picked up the phone and dialed. He turned to face his wife and motioned for her to stay quiet. The phone rang five, six times, each unanswered ring tightening his grip on the receiver. He gritted his teeth while trying to appear in control, but knew he failed by the way her features hardened as she studied him. When the person on the other end finally picked up, his knees nearly buckled from the relief pouring through him. “Welcome, caller. You are most fortunate tonight. You have reached Madame Medusala. I am home and I am alone. So if you’re a handsome fella, speak up.”

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Skeller opened his mouth to talk, closed it, and then opened it again. This was a worldclass medium? This flirty talker was the one who could help his daughter? “Uh, is this Madame Medusala? The medium?” “Well, sugar, isn’t that what I just said? And I’m the best medium you’re ever going to meet. We are going to meet, aren’t we?” At his pause, she continued, “Of course, we are. Madame Medusala knows all, sees all and, for the right price, tells all.” “I was told you could help people get better.” He shook his head at Miriam’s frightened expression. “Get better what, sugar?” The titters on the other end lifted the hairs on his neck. How could he think this flake would be able to help his daughter? But he didn’t have anyone else to call. “Uh, I need you to exorcise a, er, an evil from my daughter.” He held up one finger as Miriam’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle her cry. “She’s in trouble. Can you come over and help her?” The silence on the other side intensified the willies crawling up his spine. But he didn’t care who or what he had to deal with to straighten out this nightmare. He had to help Sydney. “Is she violent?” Another wave of relief sent a quiver through him. How had it come to this? I’m calling a medium to save my Sydney’s soul. Can this be real? “No, she’s not. She’s the sweetest human being who’d ever want to know. Can you come over to my home right now?” Another silent pause. “Um, I don’t make house calls.” Yet something in Madame Medusala’s tone gave him encouragement. “I’d make it worth your while. Say, double your normal fee?” Skeller held his breath and waited. “Say triple and see what I say.” He’d have gone ten times the normal price. “Agreed. So, you’ll come right now?” “On the wings of a dove. Get your checkbook ready, sugar.” The call disconnected, yet Skeller held the phone a little longer, giving him a moment before he had to confront Miriam. As much as he wanted to protect her, he couldn’t keep this from her. Like a man about to embark on the longest walk of his life, he met his wife’s gaze dead on. “Griswold, you’d better tell me what’s going on right now.” Her level tone was a lot scarier than the expression on her face. Normally a calm and collected person in any situation, Miriam grew even calmer when she was upset. Right now she was deadly calm and out for bear. “Don’t worry, Miriam, I’ve got help on the way. I’m handling this.” Her tone lowered and grew almost monotone. “Help for Sydney? What kind of help are we talking about?” “She needs help to return to the way she’s supposed to be. Back to the way she was born.” He tried to step past her, but she blocked his way. With no way around her—he’d never touch his wife in an aggressive or abusive way—he stayed in his place and wished for a miracle. He figured he’d wish for several miracles before the night was over. “You lied to me, didn’t you? She’s in the basement right now, isn’t she?” She wheeled around and he lunged to take her arm.

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“Miriam, don’t. I don’t want you to see her the way she is right now.” He saw the alarm etched on her face although she retained her outward calm. “See her in what way?” She took his hand and pulled it off her arm. “You’re keeping something from me and I won’t have it. Speak up or I’m going to see for myself.” All he’d learned and experienced ripped through him, draining him of the little strength he had left. He leaned against the counter to keep his body upright and dropped his gaze to the floor. “She’s been converted, Miriam. Our sweet, little girl got bitten and changed into one of those animals.” Her silence was almost as bad as her composed voice. “What’re you saying? Are you trying to tell me Sydney’s a shifter?” He glanced up at her, confused by her lack of emotion. Sure, she’d always handled a crisis well, but it was almost as if she’d known the truth before he’d said anything. But that was impossible. He nodded, unable to verbally answer her questions. “And this Madame Medusala? You think she’s going to help Sydney revert to human form?” Again, he nodded, amazed and more than a little proud of his wife’s personal fortitude. “Why would you believe such nonsense?” Did she mean about Sydney’s transformation? Or about the medium? “Which nonsense? I mean, neither one is nonsense.” She scoffed at him, turned and paced to the other side of the kitchen. “One, your daughter will always be your daughter. No matter what shape or form she’s in. And two, why would you think a medium could turn her back?” Hadn’t she understood him about the werewolf situation? Didn’t she care about her only daughter turning into a shifter? “Did you hear me, Miriam? She’s gone over. She’s one of them. That Mickale animal changed her.” “I understood you. You don’t need to yell at me. But you didn’t explain the medium.” The flame of embarrassment traveled up his neck and into his face. “I, uh, remembered one of the guys telling a story about this woman. How she’d removed the evil from someone. He said she could perform wonders.” He saw the skeptical eyebrow hike up. “We have to try something. Anything.” “You could try acceptance.” He choked on nothing, or possibly the sound of her words moving through his ears and down his throat. She wasn’t serious, was she? Accept his daughter as a shifter? Was she insane? “Acceptance? You mean, like welcoming her and her new werewolf lover into my home? Forget they’re a couple of night creatures?” She approached him and took his hands in hers. “Griswold, I’m talking about loving your daughter no matter what she is, no matter who she’s with. Isn’t it like the unconditional love we gave her when she came into our lives?” How could she compare the day he’d first held Sydney in his arms to this dreadful day? Maybe she was in denial? It’d taken him long enough to accept the truth. Maybe if she saw Sydney she’d comprehend. “You go down there and see your daughter in the basement. Then talk to me about acceptance.”

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He stepped aside as she swept past him. Following her, he made it to the basement door, unlocked it and waved her inside. He pivoted and headed down the hallway when he heard a knock at the front door, leaving Miriam to go into the basement without him. Daring to believe in the impossible, Skeller swung the door open, praying the help he sought was on the other side. The smile he’d plastered on his face froze as a large woman threw out her arms in a flamboyant gesture and cried, “I’m here, sugar. Your call forwarded to my cell and I was right around the corner. So here I am! Ready, willing, and able to vanquish the evil inside your baby girl!” ***** Why can’t I get the rest of me to change? Syd held up the child’s cracked mirror she’d found lying on a group of boxes and examined the ninety-five percent of her that was smooth, unblemished, unfurred skin. Frowning, she scrunched up her features, squeezed her eyes shut, caught her breath, and pushed for the hundredth time since her father had left her in the basement. Perhaps “pushed” was the wrong word because the harder she willed her body to shift, the more it seemed like all she accomplished was to make her face red. Or make her feel like she was sitting on a toilet trying to do a constipated number two. Not the type to give up, she shut her eyes and concentrated. She was determined to make something happen. And she did. What’s that on my forehead? Is it more fur poking through my skin? Exhilarated, she popped open her eyes and checked her reflection. Where is it? She held her breath as she felt something move just under the curls on her forehead. Reaching up as though afraid to disturb the fledgling process, she ran her fingertips under her bangs and…found sweat. A drop of sweat trickled down to her nose leaving no doubt she’d mistaken sweat for more fur poking through her skin. “Great. Other werewolves can shift in seconds, growing wonderful fur, but not me. Oh, no, not me. All I produce is perspiration.” She glared at her reflection and patted the two little tufts of fur lingering along her chin. “I bet it’s the hunter blood in me.” “No, it’s not hunter blood that’s keeping you from changing.” Syd fumbled with the mirror, almost dropping it before she managed to set it on the boxes. “Shit, Mom, you startled me.” Her mother crossed over to her to take her face in her hands. “Language, young lady.” “Yes, ma’am.” Syd tried to cover the tufts of fur, but her mother slapped her hands away. Just like she’d done the time Syd had tried to hide the hickies Bobby Miller had left on her neck. “Sydney Skeller, you know you shouldn’t try to hide anything from your mother.” Cool, lake blue eyes hunted her darting ones until they trapped them. “I’ll always find out, you know.” “I’m not hiding anything. You already know what Mickale is.” “And you’re his mate.” She nodded and sighed at the same time. “I guess I hoped he hadn’t bitten you yet. I’d hoped your saying you’d mated with him was a euphemism for having sex and a relationship.”

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“I love him, Mom. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. We talked about this, remember? In my apartment when you found us together?” Her mother glanced up the stairs and whispered, “Yes, I know. But things have gotten out of hand. I wanted to talk to both of you before you took the next step into his world.” Again, she checked the stairs. “But it’s too late. Now your father knows.” “Yeah, and he’s gone into his Father Knows Best routine, too, except his is more like Father Knows Best and Locks Daughter in the Basement Until She Obeys routine.” Syd sat down on one of the sturdier boxes. “Well, I’ve got news for him, he’s just going to have to learn to accept it. Accept me and Mickale.” At least, she hoped he would. The alternative was too sad to think about, but she had to voice it anyway. “If not, I’ll have to leave and never come back.” Her mother’s hurt expression ripped a pain through Syd, yet she knew she couldn’t back down on her threat. She’d meant every word she’d said. “I knew this day would come.” “What day? The day I stood up to my father? I’m a grown woman, Mom. Don’t you think it’s about time?” “The day when I’d have to tell you the truth.” “Mom, you’re scaring me. What truth?” Syd moved to take her mother’s hands. “Miriam? Are you down there? Is Sydney all right? The help I called is here.” Her question to her mother was left unanswered as the two women turned to watch her father leading a large woman down the steps into the basement. The woman wore a hideous flowery dress covering her from head to toe and emphasizing her gigantic bosom. Syd gaped at the medium. “What the hell are you doing here?” Madame Medusala stopped and did a double-take at Sydney. “Do I know you, sweetie?” “Uh, ye-ah. Don’t you remember me?” Medusala glanced from Syd to her father and wrung her hands. “I-I’m not sure. Should I, honey?” “Again. Uh, ye-ah.” Was she trying to pull a scam on her parents? But how did her parents know Medusala? She hadn’t told them anything about the séance or her fainting spell. “I’m the girl who visited you with her friends? You know, the group reading? Maybe you’ll remember me this way.” Kneeling down, Syd stretched out on the cold, cement floor, closed her eyes and flung her arms wide. “Ring a bell?” Recognition lit up the medium’s face as she planted a big hand over her mouth and pointed with her other hand. “Oh, holy frog legs with mustard on top, I know you. How’ve you been, sweetie?” “Wait a minute. You two know each other?” “Forget that, Griswold, I want to know what the group reading was for.” Syd jumped up and nodded at her father before addressing her mother. “I was going to tell you, Mom. But other things started happening and I forgot.” “Your daughter and her friends came to me for a reading. Of sorts.” Medusala narrowed mascara-coated brown eyes at her. Hadn’t her eyes been turquoise? And she’d swear she’d had black hair instead of the bright green hair flipping up at her broad shoulders. Of course, the color changes were nothing compared to the fact that Medusala wasn’t a woman. “And nothing happened. Right,

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Madame Medusala?” She crossed her fingers and waited for Medusala to catch her “I won’t tell if you won’t tell” hint. But the medium missed her throw and rattled on. “Nothing happened? Surely you jest. You passed out. Conked right out. If your friend hadn’t grabbed you, you’d have knocked a knot in your curly-topped head. I know you remember or you wouldn’t have gotten down on the floor to help me recall who you are.” As expected, her mom’s reaction was swift and predictable. “You passed out? Sydney, why didn’t you mention this to me? Do you know why you passed out?” Damn, I should’ve thought about it before I got down on the floor. Now she had only one course of action left to her. She’d have to tell them everything. “Calm down, Mom. I was fine. I was fine then and I’m fine now.” Her mother’s whisper held an odd mix of worry and delight. “You’re not pregnant, are you?” “Uh, nooo. Not pregnant.” At least not then. Maybe soon, though, if she got her way. The concept of having Mickale’s baby—er, pups? As in litter?—gave her a pleasant tingle in her abdomen. Note to self. Talk to Mickale about children. Medusala’s fingers-on-the-blackboard giggle tightened Syd’s already screwed up spine. “Oh, no, sugar. She and her friends wanted me to help them find men. She passed out while summoning her man.” Great. Keep on blabbing my secrets, Medusala. Syd crossed her arms and glared at the medium. Medusala expanded her explanation. “Not just any old men, either. Oh, no. These fine ladies wanted immortal men. You know. Like Mount Olympus Herculean-type gods. Or vampires. And werewolves.” She tittered again. “Can you imagine? Vampires and werewolves? Too funny.” If I could reach over and throttle the big mouth, I would. “I don’t remember you laughing when we talked about money.” “And I did my best to accommodate you. However, I never charged you or your friends. Did you ever find your wolf man, honey?” Syd swallowed as she saw the blood drain from her father’s face. “Sydney? You wanted a werewolf? He didn’t find you by accident? You wanted to find a shifter?” His eyes widened. “Oh, my God. It was that damned book, wasn’t it? The book about summoning an immortal.” Damn, where’s a commercial break when you need one? “Dad, I’m sorry if this hurts you, but I’ve never hated shifters like you do.” She paused to silently beseech her mother for help. “In fact, I’ve always had a thing for them. At first I thought it was part of rebelling against my parents, but as I got older, I realized I really was attracted to werewolves. Especially the one I’ve dreamed of for years. And that one is Mickale.” Her mother moved to slip an arm around her father as if she was afraid he’d collapse. She whispered something to him Syd couldn’t hear and he managed to gain a little of his strength. Yet a hard coldness settled on his features. A coldness Sydney was afraid would remain there forever. Skeller pointed at her. “So you weren’t already infected when you went to her?”

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“Infected?” Medusala backpedaled a few feet as fright made her homely face even less attractive. “Do you have some kind of disease? You should have told me about any infections. I could have worn a mask or something.” Wearing a mask would have been a vast improvement. Syd studied Medusala, noting the strong, calloused hands, the way she held her body as if she were about to dart and dodge like a linebacker on the offensive team, and the square cut of her jaw above the ugly, paisley scarf wrapped around her neck. Should I tell them your secret now, Mr. Medusala? But Syd didn’t have time to consider the possibility. “I’m not infected.” “Look, I don’t care whether or not you two know each other.” Skeller jabbed a finger at Medusala. “Although I’m holding you responsible for this mess. Eh! Don’t say a word.” His flat palm in front of Medusala’s face halted her protest. “All I care is that my buddy said you could rid a person of evil in their body.” His voice quivered as he glanced from Medusala to Syd and back. “My daughter has an evil in her blood and it’s changing her. It's turning her into a werewolf.” He coughed, straightened up and confronted Medusala. “Can you cure her or not? If you can, then I’ve got a check for three thousand dollars with your name on it.” Up until he’d mentioned the money, Medusala had started to shake her head. But at the exact moment he’d mentioned the money, she stopped, grinned, and began nodding like a bobble-head doll. “Get your check ready, Mr. Skeller, because I’m about to wipe the old evil out of your darlin’ daughter’s body. Or my name isn’t Madame Medusala.”

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Chapter Ten “Will you hurry up your skinny butt?” Blair twisted around in a circle to look at his bottom. “Hey, I may have a skinny butt, but it’s a sexy, skinny butt.” After giving his bottom an affectionate pat, he put his back to Mickale again, his attention on the object in his hand. “What’re you doing? What’s in your hand?” Or do I really want to know? “I’m sending a text message. Do you mind? A little privacy, please.” “This is no time to be calling your love stud, Blair.” “Love stud sounds like something I would say. Sheesh, Mickey, I do believe I’m rubbing off on you.” Blair’s laughter rankled his nerves even further. “Don’t call me Mickey.” Mickale paced while he tugged on his clothes. After escaping from the hunters’ clutches, he was in no mood for Blair’s primping or dalliances. Skeller had taken Sydney away from him and, although Mickale didn’t think her father would hurt her, he wasn’t willing to bet her life on it. “Whatever, but make it short. And get moving.” Blair pushed his head through the opening of a sunny yellow polo shirt. “Oh, you do not want to go there. The world must be ending when I get a ‘whatever’ from Mickale Morgan. Puleeze. What are you? Some pimply-faced teen with attitude? If you want attitude, baby, I can give you attitude.” Blair swished his finger at Mickale as he stuck up his chin and tossed his head. “Knock it off. I don’t need your attitude. I have one of my own. An attitude that says if we don’t get out of here and over to Syd’s father’s place in a hurry, I’m going to have your gay hide for dinner.” Mickale was already heading for the door when he heard Blair’s retort. “Mmm, and what a yummy treat I would be, too. ‘Cause you know gay meat is the sweetest meat.” Growling, Mickale set the speed as he sprinted out the door and down the street. He didn’t care if Blair was behind him or not. All he cared about was getting to Syd before something terrible happened to her. “Blair, pick up the pace or I’m leaving you behind.” Cars passed, honking at him as he pushed himself to the limit on his two legs. Why’d he bother getting dressed when he could go faster running on all fours? For that matter, why hadn’t he thought to take the car? Instinct had kicked in and he’d just taken off running. He needed to get his thinking clear before he made it to Skeller’s. Faulty thinking like this could cost Syd her life. Skidding to a stop, he leaned against the light pole illuminating the two-lane road. Was Syd okay? If so, why hadn’t she called him? He panted and looked longingly at the nearby bushes. Time to shift and get there faster. The blast of a horn, closer than any of the earlier ones, brought him out of his reverie and he jumped to put the pole between him and the car skidding to a stop mere inches from impact. If he’d moved slower, he’d have been crushed between the car and the pole.

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Check that. Not just any car squishing him like a bug. His own company car hitting the pole. Trying to regain his composure, he glared at the familiar face behind the steering wheel. “Blair, what the hell?” An ashen Blair peeked over the wheel. “Y-yeah. It’s me.” Shock morphed into anger in split seconds and he repeated his question. “What the hell are you doing behind a wheel?” “I figured driving is faster. Especially since we’d already gotten dressed. Don’t you think?” “Is that your real reason or are you trying to kill me? And when did you learn to drive, anyway?” Blair fell out of the driver’s side and stumbled over to the other side of the car. “I’m sort of a work in progress as far as the driving goes. Of course, I don’t want to kill you. Besides, I’m not stupid. I wouldn’t dare try even if I did want to.” “Good to know.” “Besides, if I really did want you gone, I’d use something requiring skill and not something so barbaric. Or messy. Eck.” Mickale slid behind the wheel at the same time Blair plopped onto the passenger’s seat. “Also good to know.” He strapped the seat belt on before turning his attention to his friend. “So are you talking poison? Hiring a hit man? What? Just so I’ll know.” Blair buckled his belt as Mickale steered the car back onto the road. “Don’t be a silly willy. There’s a fine line between torture and pleasure, and I know the line very well.” Mickale concentrated on the traffic and half-listened to Blair’s idle chatter. “Yeah?” “You bet. If I wanted to eliminate you, I’d make you suffer. I’d take you to a gay bar and let all the boys have their way with you. You’d either die a long, lingering death. Or a very happy one.” “Oh, man. You do know how to torture a guy.” “You speak the truth, Oh, Wise Leader. Besides, one man’s torture is another man’s pleasure.” Even as the tension wired his body into high gear, Mickale couldn’t help but snicker. “So make yourself useful and start planning some payback for Skeller. I know he’s Syd’s father and all, but he set us up big time. And if he’s hurt her in any way, I’ll—” “Easy, boy, you’re starting to shift and I don’t think anyone’s ready for a fast and furious werewolf on the highway.” Mickale took in a couple of big breaths to calm down. Not that it really helped. “So tell me, Mickey. How do you think your dear daddy’s going to react when you tell him your mate is a hunter?” Mickale swerved into the oncoming lane at the thought of telling his family about Syd’s family background and yanked the vehicle back on the right side. “She’s not a hunter. And don’t call me Mickey.” “Oh, my, my. I do believe someone’s sticking his head in the ground. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Although I’m sure that’s not the only place you’ve stuck your head lately. No wonder I couldn’t get a straight answer out of either of you at the club. Straight talk from straights, get it?” “Blair, you’re nowhere near ready for a standup gig.”

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“Humph. Then answer me this, sugar buns. Did she or did she not go on at least two hunts?” “How did you know?” “I have my sources and I keep secrets. When I want to.” Mickale shifted, letting his eyes and fangs grow. Snarling, he fumed at Blair. “She didn’t go on those hunts of her own accord. Besides, I went on a hunt, too.” He snarled again, lower and meaner. “Are you calling me a hunter, too?” Blair sported a shit-eating grin. “Hmm, I hadn’t thought of that. Wow, think of what your father would say to that.” “My father won’t find out about those hunts, will he?” He tried, but he couldn’t keep the worry out of his tone. “Not from me. But there’s no hiding who her father is. That kind of juicy tidbit always gets out of the gossip bag. Like when you introduce her to him.” “I’ll explain it to him and the rest of them. Besides, she’s changing. She has shifter blood in her now.” He’d make his father and the pack understand. He had to. Hadn’t destiny brought them together? She’d called and he’d answered. “Well, I have only one thing to say.” Mickale took his view off the road long enough to glance at Blair. What was he up to now? “Yeah? What?” “I want to be there when you do tell your father.” Mickale could see the punch line coming, but couldn’t resist hearing it. “Okay, I’ll bite. Aside from the obvious reason, why would you want to?” Blair kissed two of his fingertips and patted them against his cheek. “Because once Daddy Morgan gets a load of your new hunter mate, he’ll wish he had me for a daughter-inlaw instead.” ***** They arrived at Skeller’s house minutes later. Mickale punched the brake pedal to the floor sending them lurching forward toward the dash. “Damn, Sam, are you trying to wipe me out? I was kidding about killing you earlier, you know.” “Relax, Blair. If you die tonight, it won’t be me who kills you. Between Skeller and the rest of the hunters we keep running into, we’ll both be lucky to keep our skins attached to our bones. Come on. Let’s find Syd.” Mickale scrambled out of the car and stealthily made his way toward the darkened house. He kept down and headed toward the side of the dwelling.. “I think there’s a large basement window over here.” “Are you kidding me?” Mickale whirled toward Blair and bared his fangs. “Keep your voice down.” Although Blair complied and whispered, annoyance still laced his tone. “I bought this outfit two days ago and I’m not sneaking around on wet grass and slipping through a filthy window into a dirty, stinking basement. Why can’t we knock on the door like civilized people?”

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Mickale resumed his crouched-down walk toward the window and hissed his words behind him. “Do you think Skeller’s going to let us walk up to the front door and ask for Syd?” “Okay, point taken. But you don’t have to be such a bee-atch about it.” If he hadn’t reached the window at the same moment Blair started complaining, he might have whacked his friend on the head. Sometimes Blair didn’t know when to shut up and needed a little reminding. Instead, he forced Blair to his hands and knees, and pushed him to the other side of the window. “There.” Mickale nodded at the sight inside the basement. “She looks okay. But who’s the other woman?” “Oh, my word. I have no clue, but she is the ugliest woman I have ever seen. Add bad taste in clothes on her sorry ass and you’ve got a bitch no dog in heat would touch.” He pursed his lips and squinted his eyes to get a better look at her. “Although…she does seem familiar to me.” “Leave it to you to do a fashion commentary.” “Well, I’m sorry, but there’s no excuse for such blatant wardrobe abuse. The fashion police should lock her away and swallow the key.” Mickale ran his fingers along the outside of the window. “I swear, Blair, you are one of a kind.” “Ain’t that the truth? As they say, masterpieces are one of a kind.” Yet his grin softened as he furrowed his brow. “You know what? I’m sure I’ve seen her somewhere. Hmm, now where did I see her and how in the world did I forget her ugly mug and her bargain basement wardrobe?” Mickale found what he’d hoped for. The window wasn’t locked. If he could get something wedged under the warped frame, he could push it up and gain entry. “Familiar, huh? You sure you didn’t take a walk on the heterosexual side one night, Blair? Hell, she might be carrying your love child.” Blair made a retching sound and flicked Mickale’s arm. “Now, now. There’s no need for jealousy, sweetie.” “As if. Shit, I wish I had a screwdriver.” “Well, I’d offer you my iron-like dick to pry it open, but I doubt you’d blow me to get it hard. Or would you?” Mickale heard the invitation in Blair’s voice, and took the most logical course of action. Nothing. Yet he should have known Blair wouldn’t drop it so easily. “Are you thinking about it? You know, for Syd’s sake.” His deep growl answered Blair who responded with a big sigh of resignation. “I didn’t think so. Okay then, how about my knitting needle?” Leave it to Blair to come up with a knitting needle in the middle of a rescue attempt. “What’re you doing with a knitting needle? And where did it come from? On second thought, don’t answer either of those questions.” He took the shiny pink needle from Blair and shoved it between the window sill and the frame. “I’m really starting to worry about you, you know.”

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“Ah, see? You do care.” He raised his hands, palms out, at Mickale’s glare. “Easy, boy. Concentrate on helping your girly-girl. We can work out our relationship later. I’m not opposed to threesomes.” Why couldn’t one of the brawnier members of his pack hang around with him? But no, his sidekick was an “out for all the world to see” homosexual shifter who’d have to bulk up to reach the ninety-eight pound weakling status. But he had to hand it to Blair. He did have his own way of getting things done. Case in point: a knitting needle just when he needed a sharp, metal object. “I hope this thing doesn’t break.” “Don’t worry. It won’t. I had it designed and made out of very special material to withstand all kinds of pressure on it.” “You must like knitting a lot to go to the trouble and expense of a custom made needle.” “Who said I use it for knitting?” Mickale almost dropped the needle thinking about Blair’s creative uses for the long, slick object. “Oh, crap.” “Shush! Keep quiet and calm down, Mickey. It’s clean.” He held the stick out in front of him, surveyed it carefully, and then took a firmer grasp on the end. “It better be. And don’t call me Mickey.” “Hey! What’s the ugly woman doing?” The people in the group had stopped arguing as the strange woman whirled around Syd, waving her arms and chanting. Skeller and his wife moved, placing their backs to the window as they linked arms. “Good grief. She looks like an experimental bird hopped up on some secret governmental hallucinogenic. Talk about flying over the cuckoo nest. I think the cuckoo bird flew over here, laid an egg, and she popped out. Someone, please, in the name of all dance aficionados, make her cease and desist.” Mickale tore his gaze away from the strange sight. “Where do you come up with this stuff?” “What? You don’t agree? Don’t you think she looks like she’s doing some kind of ceremonial dance? But I can’t hear her well enough to know what she’s saying. What’s that? Did she say something about ‘the evil within’?” “I don’t know, but I don’t like it. Not one bit.” Mickale ripped the clothes from his body, letting buttons fly. When the last garment was removed, Mickale shifted into full wolf form, forced the window open and flung his body forward, landing inside the basement. “Wait for me!” Changing in mid-air, Blair followed Mickale’s action and rolled to the right of him. The startled group jumped back from the two intruders. The ugly woman, however, stopped her gyrations and chanting, threw up her arms, and started running for the stairs. “Wild animals! Call Jeff Corwin! Call the dog pound! Call the Dog Whisperer!” “Hold on, Medusala. These aren’t wild animals. At least, not like you mean.” Skeller’s fierce command stopped her cold and she timidly pivoted around to the group. “Excuse me, but I can get pretty darn wild when I want to. Especially when I have a partner to play with.” Blair rose up on his hind legs and waved his front paws in the air. “I’m

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not called Blair, the Body Shots Queen down at the club for nothing, you know.” Rotating his furry abdomen at them, he added, “What’cha say we give it a go right here, right now?” A collective “Yuck” brought him down on all paws. “Well, you don’t have to be rude about it. A simple ‘no thank you’ would have done the job very nicely.” He is such a diva dog. Mickale shook his head at his furry friend before addressing the others. “For future reference, you don’t put werewolves in the dog pound. Wolfs are canines, but they aren’t dogs.” Syd started to move closer to Mickale, but her father blocked her way. He took her arms as he yelled at Medusala. “Finish the job! Rid my daughter of the evil possessing her or you’ll get no money.” Medusala, who’d watched the chaos around her in stunned silence, broke out of her daze at the word “money.” “Are you friggin’ kidding me, man? Those suckers are real. And they talk!” Wouldn’t a medium have known that from the beginning? Or at least believed in supernatural beings? Syd gaped at Medusala as an inkling of a suspicion tickled her brain. “So you’re not a real medium, either?” “You said you could do this. Get the werewolf blood out of my Sydney.” Skeller’s face reddened with his fury. “Otherwise, I’ll have to lock her away for the rest of her life until I do find a cure.” “Dad, there’s no cure for a lycanthrope. It’s not a disease like alcoholism.” “And neither is homosexuality,” added Blair. “Just so you know.” Mickale swished his tail back and forth. “I am so tired of you ignorant hunters. We are what we are. And we’re no more evil than hunters or anyone else. But relax. Syd’s coming home with me and you’ll never have to see her again.” A panicked expression washed over Skeller’s face and he whirled toward the gun cabinet on the farthest wall. Yanking a rifle from the rack, he spun back to Mickale and aimed. “You aren’t taking my girl away from me! I’ll kill you first!” “Griswold, stop!” Miriam rushed toward her husband, but didn’t reach him in time. “No, Dad!” Sydney’s scream catapulted Mickale into the air. His power flew his body forward at the same instant Medusala let out an ear-piercing screech and fell to the floor in a faint. Distracted, Skeller’s aim dropped a few inches. Blair howled and ran to Medusala’s side. Mickale struck Skeller in the chest, knocking them backwards onto the floor with Mickale trying to get a grasp on the gun. Fighting for possession, werewolf and man rolled on the floor while Miriam and Syd shouted for them to stop. As Mickale struggled to get the gun, the conflict within him intensified. Would he have to kill Skeller to have Syd as his mate? If he did, would she ever forgive him? He grunted with the effort of controlling the full force of his power and gritted his fangs to keep from biting the man. “Let go of the gun, Skeller.” Veins popped out in Skeller’s neck as he battled Mickale for possession. “You won’t take Sydney away. I won’t let you.” “She wants to come with me.” “Only because you’ve changed her. But I can bring her back. Let go—”

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The shot rang out, freezing everyone’s movements. Yet the silence didn’t last long as Miriam’s scream filled the room. Mickale kept a grip on the rifle as he jerked toward the sound. A stunned cold swept through him as he saw Syd crumpled on the floor with blood oozing from the wound in her stomach. “Syd!” As fear and rage surged through him, Mickale released his full strength and tore the rifle from Skeller’s hands. Standing over the weapon, he returned to human form, picked up the gun, and jammed the barrel against the bridge of Skeller’s nose.

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Chapter Eleven “No, Mickale. You can’t.” “Give me one good reason why I can’t.” Mickale remained unmoving and kept the rifle steady in his hands. “Because he’s my father.” His dark eyes met hers and in an instant Syd knew he’d never refuse her. “He’s my father,” she whispered again. He nodded at her and moved away from her father. “I should kill him just for hurting you.” Emptying the gun of its remaining shells, he strode over to the cement wall of the basement where the gun cabinet was, reared his arms back as if getting ready to strike at a fast pitch, and swung. The rifle shattered against the wall and Mickale tossed the broken weapon to the floor. Taking each of the guns from the cabinet, he destroyed one after the other as Skeller watched from his place on the floor. Finished, Mickale spun on his heel, and headed for Syd, passing by the prone Medusala. He waved his hand at her. “Is she hurt?” Blair squatted beside the medium and checked her breathing. At once Medusala opened her eyes, took one look at the wolf leaning over her, screamed and fainted again. Blair shrugged. “Don’t worry, she’ll come around again.” Her mother knelt over Syd, resting her head in her lap. “Oh, my God. You two animals shot my girl.” Mickale stooped beside Syd and took her hand. “Don’t worry. I know it hurts like hell, but you’ll be okay.” Blair, returning to human form, snapped a retort. “What are you talking about? We didn’t shoot her. Your dickhead husband did.” “I’m not talking about you.” Her mom’s voice thickened with emotion. “I’m talking about Mickale and Griswold. You’re both a couple of animals who deserve to wring the life out of each other. Someone call an ambulance.” Her father headed for the stairs, but Syd didn’t let him get far. Somehow she knew she wouldn’t need the help. “No, Dad. Don’t. I’ll be okay. I know it. I can feel—” His relief at her declaration mixed with disbelief on his features. “But how? You’re shot. I think we’d better call them. I can’t—” His final words choked off as emotion overtook him. Mickale enclosed her hand in both of his. “If the shifter in you has grown strong enough, then you’ll be able to heal yourself.” “I think it has.” She chuckled and then winced at the pain it caused. “Take it easy, Syd.” He winked at her making her feel better. “It’s your first time.” Coming closer, her father peered at the wound and grimaced with anguish. “Her first time?” Mickale ground his teeth together and she watched as he tried to contain his anger. “Her first time to get shot.” Twisting his head up to glower at her father, he added, “Shifters have a tendency to get shot a lot. You know, by idiots with guns.”

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Syd held her breath at the pain rippling through her stomach, but she knew her father’s pain was greater than hers. Remorse, guilt, and worry made him appear twenty years older. Hoping to relieve a little of her parents’ distress, Syd tried to sit up and failed. Yet, strangely, the pain wasn’t too bad. In fact, after the initial burst of agony when the bullet entered her body, she hadn’t hurt much at all. Instead, she’d experienced a strange, tingling sensation. With the question in her eyes, she sought an answer from Mickale. He squeezed her hand while keeping his gaze fixed on her, and asked her father the question for confirmation. “The bullet wasn’t silver, was it?” Her father, who’d at last managed to move over and stand beside her, shook his head. “No, thank God. I didn’t have any silver bullets left.” “Then you’d better hope she has enough shifter blood in her to save her.” Mickale motioned to the place on her shirt where blood had been oozing minutes before. Now only a dark red stain was left. Syd glanced down, gasped, and struggled to comprehend. “Wow, I’m already getting better.” She looked to Mickale again wanting him to support her hope. “Does this mean I’m changing? I can heal myself?” Her mother’s quick intake of breath matched her father’s muttered words of forgiveness. He knelt beside his wife and caressed Syd’s cheek. “I couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d killed you.” “Trust me. You wouldn’t have lived long.” She smiled at her father and squeezed Mickale’s hand in a weak attempt to calm him. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, Dad. And I’m going to be okay.” Craning her head, she checked on the medium. “How is, uh, Medusala, Blair?” “I don’t know.” Winking at Syd, he inched closer to the medium’s mouth. “I may have to give her mouth-to-mouth—.” Before he’d finished saying the sentence, Medusala sat up and started fanning him away. “Oh, no you won’t. Get away from me, you pervert.” “—resuscitation. Pervert? Ha! If you want to see a pervert, I suggest you look in the mirror. Seriously, did you think I’d want to put my luscious, kissable lips on your thinnedout, lipstick-lacquered ones? Puleeze, get real.” Blair and Medusala stood up and squared away toe to toe, ready for their next confrontation. “Will you two knock it off? I’m taking Syd home with me as soon as she can walk.” Her father shot to his feet, hands on his hips, and glanced toward the empty gun rack. “No shifter’s going to take my little girl anywhere. I don’t care if I have to stop you with my bare hands.” “They’re at it again. I have to stop this.” Syd tried to sit up, but her mother forced her back down. “No, you don’t. I will.” After gently resting Syd on the floor, her mother rose, commanding everyone’s attention with the determination flowing from her. “Listen up! No more fighting, do you understand? Neither one of you will have anything to do with my daughter until you learn to accept each other.” “Miriam, are you crazy? Accept a shifter?”

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“I’m sorry, Mrs. Skeller, but you’re asking too much. Syd’s like me now and she needs to live among her own kind.” Her father bumped his chest against Mickale. In true alpha male style, Mickale bumped back. “She is with her own kind. I’ll find a way to rid her body of every drop of shifter blood if it’s the last thing I ever do.” “As I said.” Her mother’s strong voice halted the men’s argument before it could get any worse. “As I said, I’ll take care of Sydney and you two will leave her alone until I say you’re ready to see her.” “But, Miriam, honey, she’s a hunter. She’s a Skeller.” The silence after his statement intensified until Syd couldn’t stand it any longer. “Mom, I’m okay. And I’m sorry, but you won’t keep me away from Mickale.” Her mother’s shoulders slumped as she turned to face Sydney. Had her mother ever appeared so bedraggled or worn down before? In her whole life she’d never seen her mother look absolutely exhausted. Even when she’d come down with pneumonia. A shiver of premonition shuddered through her at the expression on her mother’s face. “On second thought, Mom, say what you have to say. I can see something else is bothering you.” The tears springing to her mother’s eyes told Syd she’d struck a nerve. “I need to tell you—all of you—something I’ve kept hidden inside me for years. I can’t keep the secret any longer.” My mother has a secret? My “straight forward, speak your mind and tell the truth” mom has a secret? “Griswold, she’s not a Skeller. You know that as well as I do. She doesn’t have Skeller blood in her.” Her mother walked over to her father and stood before him, hands folded in front of her, acting as though she was ready to receive the worst kind of punishment. “She isn’t a hunter. Not by birth or anything else.” I’m not a Skeller? Syd’s mind reeled with the implication. But if I don’t have hunter blood in me, then I’m not a hunter. All the years of feeling different, out of place suddenly made sense. “But how? Who am I if I’m not a Skeller?” Skeller laughed a short, surprised sort of laugh. “Of course, she is. She’s our daughter. Her birth parents don’t matter. I’ve raised her as a hunter, so she’s a hunter. Discussion closed.” “Yes, she’s our daughter. We raised her, bathed her, clothed her, and educated her. And you tried to turn her into the hunter daughter you always wanted.” She gave Syd a weak smile. “And I hope she’ll always be our daughter. But we can’t keep the truth from her any longer any more than you can force her to be something she isn’t.” With the help of Mickale, Syd stood up although her legs felt as wobbly as her grasp on reality. Yet her renewed strength surged through her with every passing second. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Was this why she could never get close to her father? All she needed was to hear her mother validate the suspicions she’d had all her life. “Griswold, we’ve tried to block out the truth for years. Pretend I gave birth to her and you were her natural father. Pretending was easier than telling her, so we let it slide all these years.”

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The more her mother said, the more Syd’s thoughts jumbled together. She’d known the truth long before today. Somehow, deep inside, she’d always known. “Mom, tell me the rest. Who are my parents?” Her mother smiled at her, a weak, “please forgive me” smile that sent another shiver through Syd. Instead of answering her, however, she left her husband and turned to Mickale. “So you see, you shouldn’t begrudge Sydney her family. She doesn’t have any hunter blood in her, so I’m praying your kind, your family can accept her when they learn about her real heritage.” No hunter blood in me. As hard as she tried, her mind couldn’t adjust to the information. She’d never known any other life. Mickale studied her mother, started to say something, and changed his mind. In the end, he merely nodded. In awed silence, she watched her mother take Mickale into her arms and hug him to her. “Welcome to our family, Mickale. If you’ll have us.” Syd’s tears welled up as she saw Mickale’s body loosen up under her mother’s affection. “You’re always welcome in our home, Mrs. Skeller.” Cocking his head to the side, he amended, “Miriam.” She gave him a quick hug and faced her fuming husband. “Griswold, don’t be mad at me for telling her. It was time Sydney knew the truth. We always promised we’d tell her, but we kept putting it off. For selfish reasons, I’m afraid.” “You could have discussed this with me first, Miriam.” Her father’s body was ramrod straight. “Oh, my, my. We’ve got a real life soap opera going on here.” Blair clapped his hands together in excitement. “You know what this means, don’t you?” Medusala lifted her hand above her head and waved. “I do!” “Shut up, you two. And stay out of this.” The growling words Mickale sent the two shut them up fast. Syd crossed her arms over her chest to ward off the cold surrounding her. “So you’re saying I’m adopted.” She glanced from her father to her mother. “And that Dad isn’t really my dad.” “He’s your father in all the important ways.” Everyone gawked at Mickale, more than a little surprised to hear those words coming from him. “What? Hey, macho guys watch Dr. Phil, too, you know.” Mickale thrust out a finger at Blair as the smaller shifter giggled and started to speak. “Not a single word, Blair. Go on, Syd.” Syd’s heart pounded, almost cracking through her ribcage. “And you aren’t my real mother?” Her father shook his head vehemently. “She’s your mother. No matter how you came to us.” “In other words, no. Neither one of you is my biological parent.” Part of her wanted to accept her new found reality, while another part of her screamed at her to forget everything she’d heard.

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She pivoted around to place her back to the group, giving her a minute to let everything sink in. In a short few days her world had changed forever. Not only was she turning into a werewolf, she’d now learned she was adopted. “I’m sorry, Syd. I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” Her mother’s soft words couldn’t provide the comfort she wanted. Not this time. “But I’m afraid there’s more. I have to tell you something that even your father doesn’t know.” “You’ve kept a secret from me?” Her father turned away, trying to deny what he didn’t want to hear. Syd reached out for Mickale, for the one person she needed most and found him waiting to catch her. With his support, she shuffled to her mother. “What is it? Tell me everything. Is my whole life a lie? I have to know.” Her mother wiped a tear away from her cheeks. “It’s all my fault. I should never have put you two—” she motioned toward her father before returning her gaze to Syd. “in this position. I knew nothing but trouble would come from it. But I couldn’t help myself. From the first second I saw you, I knew you were my little girl.” Her father, more subdued than she’d ever seen him, took his wife’s arm in a loving embrace. Gone was his anger and denial. “Go ahead, Miriam. Whatever it is, I’m here.” “Is this better than All My Children or what?” As a group, they whirled on Blair. “Shut up, Blair!” “Well, sheesh, you don’t all have to gang up on me. Pick on the little gay dude, why don’t you? I’d hate to think how you’d treat me if I were gay and black.” The group ignored him and turned their attention to her mother. Syd took a deep breath and waited for her to continue. “Griswold, I’m sorry. I did something I knew you’d never have allowed. But I had to choose Sydney. She was so alone and so small.” “I know, honey. I remember.” The atmosphere, charged with anger and hostility before, changed as her mother seemed to forget about Syd and concentrated on her father. “But I hid a secret from you, Griswold. I didn’t tell you everything.” Drawing her body up, she adopted a determined expression and stared him in the eye. “No, I take it back. I’m not sorry I did. Otherwise, we’d never have kept Sydney.” “I understand. I fell in love with Sydney right from the start. Nothing you could have said would have changed my mind to adopt her.” What secret had my mother kept all these years? And how would telling the secret change her life? What more could there be? Had these secrets contributed to the distance between her and her father? “I know you believe what you say. But at the time, I knew if I’d told you the truth, you’d have sent her away. Or worse.” Syd could see her father tense up again and fight the urge to demand more. She recognized the struggle within him for patience because the same fight raged on within her. “I just have to say this flat out.” As if remembering the rest of them, her mother turned to them and blurted out the hard fact. “Sydney’s real parents—Sydney’s real mother and father were—shifters.”

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Her father staggered backwards, grappling for something to hold on to. Medusala took his arm and steadied him before he jerked away from her. “No! Why would you say that, Miriam? It’s not true.” He shook his head, waving his hands in front of him as if trying to flag down a speeding car. “I’d have sensed it. I’d have smelled her. You’re lying, Miriam. You’re lying to get me to accept him.” He jabbed a finger at Mickale as if accusing him of all the trouble. Her mother pulled her sagging shoulders straight again and glared at him. “But you didn’t. You never sensed anything wrong with her.” “Whoa, lady. Being a shifter is not ‘wrong.’” As they wheeled on Blair yet another time, he shushed them and said what he knew they’d say. “Yeah, yeah. I know. ‘Shut up, Blair.’ Damn, I don’t get any respect at all.” Miriam continued, ignoring the small shifter’s outburst. “Maybe you didn’t sense the shifter part of her because you’d accepted her as your own. I don’t know. She’s a shifter, Griswold, but she’s our daughter, too. That’s why you have to accept her changing now. That’s why you have to accept Mickale. Don’t you see, Griswold? She belongs with him more than she ever belonged with us.” His jaw fell slack as he considered what his wife had said. “I don’t know if I can.” A cold chill swept over Syd as she imagined a life without her father. They’d never had a very close relationship, but she loved the man. And nothing would change that. But would his feelings toward her change? “But why haven’t I ever shifted before? Hell, I can’t even manage to change all the way now. If I had shifter blood in me before Mickale marked me, why haven’t I ever shifted?” She checked Mickale and saw an answer written in his face. “Why, Mickale?” “The time when you’ll start transforming will depend on how much shifter blood you have in you. Your parents may have come from an impure line. A line that had been diluted with pure human blood for years. Maybe even decades or more. Although pure humans can summon a shifter mate, your ancestry explains why you were able to call me to you with your first try.” Her father’s mouth moved as he tried to work out everything in his mind. Much like the way she’d fought to comprehend her mother’s story. But one thing mattered the most to her. “Dad?” His dull eyes met hers, yet he couldn’t speak. “Dad? Do you hate me?” He drew closer to her and raised his hands to place them around her neck. She heard Mickale’s warning snarl and lifted her hand to keep him at bay. If her father wanted her dead, then let him kill her. She didn’t think she could bear the thought of having him hate her. Staring into his eyes, she waited. Waited and knew in her heart he’d never hurt her. He blinked once then ran his hands along her neck, his thumb passing over the scar where Mickale had marked her, to rest on top of her shoulders. “I could never hate you. I’m so relieved to see you better I don’t care how it happened, Sweet Pea.” She smiled through her tears at the pet name he used to call her when she was younger. She hadn’t heard him use the term in years. “I love you, too, Dad. I always will.” A gigantic sniff swiveled her attention to Blair and Medusala who stood arm and arm, leaning against one another for support. With their heads touching, Blair tugged one side of a

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large hankie to his eyes while the medium wiped her nose with the other end. “This is just so beautiful. I’m so happy for my Mickey.” A sob racked Medusala, making her flippy green hair bounce around her shoulders. “You are so right, Blair, baby. It is beautiful.” “So, I guess we’re all one big happy family, huh?” Mickale grinned as he slipped one arm around Syd’s waist and one over her father’s shoulders. “If you can let bygones be bygones, I guess I can try, too. How about it…Dad?” She punched Mickale with her elbow as the color drained from her father’s face. Typical Mickale. Make a joke when things get too serious. Griswold growled at Mickale who, of course, couldn’t let such an action pass without some kind of snarky comment. “Not bad, Pops. This time try growling with a little more feeling. Let me know you mean it, Daddy Skeller.” Her father choked as the pink color flowed into him and he screwed up tighter than a nut in a bolt. “Do. Not. Call. Me. Pops. Or Dad. Ever.” “But, Dad.” Her father’s fist hit Mickale in the side of the head before Mickale could duck out of the way. Mickale took the punch without losing his balance and began to shift again. “No!” Her mother’s roar startled them with Mickale’s shift fading as quickly as it had started. “Haven’t you two learned anything? This feud will stop right this instant. No more fighting in my home. Do you understand?” The two men, one naked, the other so red Syd was afraid he’d pop a blood vessel, stared at her mother. “Way to go, Mom.” Syd shot a fist in the air, making her mother fight to stay angry. “Now.” Her mother sauntered around the two men as if they were little boys caught with their hands in the cookie jar. “From now on, you two will behave like civilized creatures. Griswold, you will treat Mickale with civility even if you can’t find any kindness for him.” Mickale thumbed his nose at Griswold and put on an innocent face until her mother caught him. “And you! You will not shift in my home again without permission. And…” She ran her gaze up and down Mickale’s nude body. “You’ll put some clothes on, pronto.” Whipping around, she pointed at Blair who Medusala had pushed away from her. “And the same goes for you, skinny boy.” Mickale saluted her and made a face at Sydney. “We really do need to figure out how to make clothes disappear and reappear at will.” He pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers. Yet just as their lips met, a loud crash reverberated through the wall and in the floor above them. Syd pulled back from Mickale, caught the startled expressions of the others, and whistled. “Wow. Your kisses always give me a bang, but I never thought they were audible to others. Way to go, my big, strong wolfie.”

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Chapter Twelve “As much as I’d like to, I can’t take credit for the sonic boom.” Mickale winked at her and grinned. “I think someone crashed through the front door.” Syd’s elation from the kiss dropped forty levels. “Damn. I thought all I had to worry about now was a bad case of fur rash.” “Fur rash?” “You know, like whisker rash? Except with you, it’s fur.” Mickale got a weird look on his face and then turned to Blair. “She’s starting to sound like you and your bad jokes.” Of course, Blair being Blair had to get the last word in. “What bad jokes? You people don’t know subtle humor when you hear it, is all. Syd, however, shows promise.” More crashes drew their attention to the floor above them again. Skeller moved closer to Miriam, while Blair grabbed onto Medusala, hugging the large medium close. “I think we’ve got company.” Mickale let go of Syd and moved to stand under the steps. “Are you expecting some playmates, Skeller?” “No. But I have a bad feeling the hunters finally got their shit together and decided to come after Sydney. And me for protecting her.” “I am not going to tolerate any more of this insanity.” At the deep tone of the new voice, everyone pivoted to stare at Medusala as she—he— whipped off the green wig and tossed it on top of a box. Syd stared at the medium as sheslash-he hiked up the tail of the skirt she-slash-he wore and stuffed it into her-slash-his belt. Bulky, hairy legs protruded from the bottom of the skirt as he-slash-she dug into his-slash-her bosom to pull out the padding. Before long, Medusala had changed from a meek-mannered female medium into a pissed-off-looking, buzz-cut male. “Heavens, you’re a man!” Miriam’s shocked declaration spurred everyone to action. “A man who pretends to be a woman? What kind of a man is that?” Skeller’s question went unanswered as Mickale walked over and pulled Medusala’s shirt away from her body so he could check out her deflated chest. “Nothing up top. Definitely a man.” Mickale shuffled away and jerked his head upwards as yet another crash reverberated above them. “You can’t tell by that, Mickey.” Blair bent over and lifted Medusala’s skirt to examine his nether regions. “A lot of bitches have no chest. The answer’s all in the balls, my friend.” “Get your paws off me, you naked letch.” Medusala slapped at Blair’s head and pushed him to the floor. “Okay, let’s get this party rolling. A guy can only take so much, you know. And if there’s going to be a fight, then I’m getting ready.” With a sneer at Blair, Medusala started pulling knives of various sizes out from inside his clothing. “I don’t have claws and fangs, but I think these will do the job.” “Is this another one of your freak friends?”

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Mickale bared his fangs as he snarled at Skeller. “Not all ‘freaks’ as you call us are shifters. In fact, most freaks I’ve seen are more of your kind than ours.” “I’m not a freak, damn it.” By this time Medusala had four knives ready for use; two in his hands and two stuck in the side of his belt. “I’m a struggling medical student trying to make enough money to pay for school and living expenses. Being a fake medium and, yes, a female impersonator at a gay bar pays better than any regular job, so screw you if you don’t like it. But having odd jobs don’t make me a freak.” Blair jumped up and down, his features lit up with excitement. “Oh, shut up! You’re kidding us. I knew you looked familiar. You perform at Boy Toys, don’t you? Although I must say you dress better when you’re performing.” He touched Medusala’s arm several times in rapid succession as if trying to convince himself Medusala was real. “You’re just fabulous! I saw the show where you sang a medley of Streisand songs and you were so good I cried a river. Hell, no, an ocean. Miss Barbra herself couldn’t have sung them better. I mean I simply bawled my head off. Get it? Balled. Head. Get off?” Medusala stared at Blair for a full minute without saying a word before turning to Skeller. “You never told me about all this. And now there’s more coming?” “Quiet!” Skeller’s whisper brought instant silence. “I can hear them on the other side of the door. They’re trying to break in.” “Get ready, Blair.” “Oh, my, my. Do I still have to get dressed, Miriam?” Blair cupped his privates in a coquettish gesture. “Or do I have permission to shift again?” “Under the circumstances, you both have my permission.” She waved her hands as if performing a magic act. “Wolf out, boys, and let ‘em have it.” Mickale grinned as he and Blair transformed. “I knew I liked you, Miriam, from the first minute I saw you in bed.” Skeller gagged and gaped at his wife. “In bed?” “No, Griswold, I saw him in bed. With Sydney.” Skeller choked again, clearly not soothed by her explanation. “Oh, get over it, Griswold.” Miriam puffed out an exasperated sigh. “Did you think she was a virgin?” When he couldn’t answer, she dismissed him altogether. “I’ll explain later, dear.” Almost in exact imitation, the two shifters’ heads elongated, sprouting a muzzle where their jaws had been. Fangs, long and fiercely sharp, protruded from their mouths while the first layer of fur spread like a forest fire from the top of their heads to their toes in less time than Syd took to swallow the saliva bursting into her mouth. The second, longer fur followed the same course as the first, layering over the undercoat that kept wolves warm. Hands morphed, losing fingernails and gaining claws. Yet it was their eyes Syd watched in fascination and envy as they grew thinner, narrower, sliding from dark brown to the flashing amber she’d seen in her dreams. “You’re still grinning.” Syd reached out to touch Mickale as he rubbed up against her. “I think I like your wolf grin the best.” A very human-like chuckle rumbled in his throat. He woofed, rose up on his hind legs and placed his paws on her shoulders. With another human chuckle, he licked her face,

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sliding his tongue down her cheek. Syd giggled as the rough surface scraped over her collarbone, but her laughter stopped immediately when she saw her father’s expression. I’m sorry, Dad. You’ll have to get used to them. To me and what I’ve become. No, nix that. To what I’ve always been. Pushing Mickale away, she closed her eyes and gathered the power surging through her. The heat, the burn as her bones lengthened and altered hurt her, but she kept allowing the force free rein. Tearing sounds echoed in her mind as if from a distant location and she knew her clothes ripped away from her body. But she didn’t care. She could sense her skin tingling as fur flowed over the surface and, when her teeth started aching, she knew the finish was near. She opened her eyes and saw the world in a different way. The room around her was clearer, more distinct, and brighter than she’d ever imagined. Textures she’d never noticed before burst to life before her, demanding her attention. The brown of the boxes was richer, pulsing with color and she could see into the dark corners of the basement as clearly as if she’d shown a spotlight on them. “Oh, wow. I never knew. I thought shifters only saw things in black and white like dogs. This is so cool.” She dropped down to all fours, surprised at the sound of her garbled words. Why couldn’t she speak as clearly as Mickale? Whining, she tried to ask Mickale. “Don’t you remember? I told you earlier. You’ll learn to adapt your wolf tongue to your wolf mouth. Give it time. And, of course, practice.” Mickale growled a soft, comforting sound. “Take a look at yourself.” Her eyes widened as she did what he suggested. Leaping onto the box where she’d placed the mirror, she twisted her head and stared at the image before her. A red wolf with golden highlights streaked through the fur stared back at her with lips curved in a slight smile. She’d shifted! And not just a partial shift. She was grade-A canine and all wolfed out. As pure pleasure wafted through her, she jumped to the floor, glanced at her stunned parents, lifted her head, and howled with pure joy. The door splintered as an axe sliced through the center panel. Wood flew down the steps and the humans leapt away from the falling debris. Mickale, Blair and Syd held their ground, shielding their heads as the debris peppered them with small wooden spikes until the rain from the destroyed door stopped. “They’re coming. Get ready.” Syd scooted closer to Mickale as she caught his warning. Footsteps played a rhythm behind his curses as a hunter barreled down the stairs toward the wolves. “Watch out for her, Blair. That’s an order.” “Okie-dokie, Mickey. Will do.” “Will you guys stop talking as if I’m not standing right here?” Syd snarled at them in case they hadn’t understood her mangled words. Mickale stepped in front of her as the first hunter stomped down the stairs. “Figures it’d be your ex-boyfriend,” grumbled Mickale. Why did Joe have to come? Syd bumped between the two other wolves as Blair tried to cut her away from Mickale’s side. “Knock it off, Blair, or I’ll make you sit through an entire Sunday of football games.” “Fine with me. I like boys in tight pants, Ms. Mush Mouth.”

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Joe jumped, skipping over the last step to land in front of them. “Holy shit, Skeller. Three? You’ve got three shifters in your basement?” He glanced around the room and studied Medusala. “And what the hell is that? Some kind of homo? What’s happened to you, Skeller? When did you go over to the dark side?” “I am not a homo. Got it?” Medusala brandished the largest knife at him. “And I’m not with them. At least, not yet. However, if you’re out to cause trouble, I may have to take sides.” “Woo-hoo! Good for you, er, uh…What’s your name, sweetheart? Your real name.” Blair tipped his head and batted his eyes at Medusala. Medusala cringed, his macho image fading a little as he straightened his bra. “I am not your sweetheart. My name’s William Forst. Medusala’s my stage name.” Wow, the people I’ve met since Mickale came into my life. Syd tried to wave with one of her paws, but ended up swiping Blair in the head. “Watch it, sugar. You’ll mess up my hairdo. Or should I say furdo?” Joe scowled at Blair. “Did he say something?” “Yes, I did. I said, ‘Come any closer and I’ll lift my leg and piss on you.” Blair hiked up his hind leg to emphasize his threat. Skeller crossed over to where several yard tools hung on hooks. Taking the hoe down, he returned to stand beside the wolves again. “I have never and will never go over to evil. You’re pushing me, Joe, and you’re lucky I don’t have a gun.” He gestured toward the broken guns on the floor. “Or I’d shoot you full of lead for trespassing.” “I’m pushing you? You’re hanging out with shifters and weirdoes, and you say I’m pushing you? To think I admired you, wanted to be exactly like you. Once Sydney and I got married, I’d have taken your place as a leader of the hunters. But now I see you for what you really are. A wolf-loving pussy.” He spat on the floor in front of Skeller. “Eeww! How crass can your ass get?” Blair shuffled backwards a bit, shaking his head in disgust. “I know hunters are uneducated morons, but really. Didn’t your mamma ever teach you better than to spit on the floor?” “Holy shit! That wolf did talk! They are the Devil’s spawn!” Joe waved his gun in the air before thinking to point it at Blair. “He’s got to die.” “No! Don’t!” Miriam’s outburst brought Joe’s attention to her. “Don’t, Joe. Not in my house.” Incredulous, Blair, Mickale and Syd turned to confront her. “Not in your house? So, it’s okay if he shoots us somewhere else?” Mickale’s words echoed Syd’s own stunned feelings. Miriam reached out for them but let her arms drop when they didn’t respond. “I didn’t mean it like it sounded. Of course, I don’t want you harmed at any time, in any place.” “Oh, my God.” The three wolves whirled to face Joe again. “This is amazing. I knew shifters could talk while they’re in human form, but I didn’t know they could talk in their wolf body.” “So I’m thinking now that you know we’re cognizant beings in both forms, you don’t have the compulsion to fill us with bullets?” Mickale grinned at Joe and shot Syd a wink.

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Joe pointed his gun directly at Mickale’s head. “Shifters talking? It’s worse than I thought. We have to exterminate these evil minions from Hell.” “Well, that idea sure flopped.” “Shut up, Blair.” Joe’s hard gaze never left Mickale. “I figure Sydney’s boyfriend, Mickale, is one of them and his pansy friend is the other vermin, right? But who’s the third one?” “Pansy friend? You wish. How’d you talk your way out of getting creamed by the hunters, big boy? Or did you want someone special to do the job? Hint. Hint.” Joe gaped at Blair, as if seeing him for the first time. With a deliberate slowness, he reached behind him and pulled a pistol from his back waistband. “You’re gonna die, you God-forsaken scum.” Blair sat on his hunches. “Really? I do believe you’re getting much too personal. Religion is not a matter I choose to discuss with you, but maybe you’ve heard of religious freedom?” How had she ever liked this guy? Syd tilted her head back and forth to study the man before him. He and Mickale are light years away from each other. And to think I grew up thinking werewolves were the animals. Four more hunters carrying guns thundered down the steps and slid into place behind Joe. Waiting for a cue from their leader, they stood with their feet apart and readied their weapons. One gigantic bear of a man coughed and asked, “We going to do this, Joe, or what? What’re we waiting for?” Joe snapped out of the stunned funk he’d fallen into. “What took you guys so long? I said check the upstairs, not go take naps.” “Oh, shoot. Are we playing Goldilocks and the Three Bears now?” Blair whirled in a circle as if checking with the others. “What happened to our game of Little Red Riding Hood and the Werewolves?” The other hunters mumbled something to Joe, but Syd couldn’t make out anything they said. “Never mind. Let’s take care of business.” Joe licked his lips as if a banquet was spread out before him. Syd felt Mickale and Blair tense up as they used their bodies as a barrier for her. She knew they’d protect her with their lives and she fought to hold her tears in check. “Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell are you doing barging into my home like this?” Skeller marched over to confront the group, putting him in close proximity to Blair. “You don’t have the right to break into a man’s home and threaten him with weapons. Get the hell outta here before I throw you out.” Joe laughed and pushed back the baseball cap he wore. He flexed his muscles, tightening his already skin-tight t-shirt and sneered. “We have every right in the world, Skeller, and you know it. We’ve sworn to rid the world of these creatures and we’re going to do our job even if you’ve decided to turn on us. Hell, you’ve done this a time or two, haven’t you?” Pointing his gun at her father, he added, “Try and stop us and we’ll take you down with them, you damn shifter-lover.”

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Boy, what I wouldn’t give to tear out his throat and shove it down his big mouth. Syd checked Mickale and waited for him to say something. But he remained quiet aside from the occasional warning growl at the hunters. What’s the holdup? The three of us, along with my Dad, can take these guys. So why’s Mickale waiting? She pranced on her four feet, trying to relay her impatience to Mickale, but he kept his gaze riveted on the men. “I’m warning you, Joe. You do anything to harm my daughter and you won’t live long enough to regret it.” The expression on Joe’s face was priceless—and hilarious in its stupidity. “Your daughter?” His eyes fell on Syd, yet still nothing registered. He always was a bit slow. Syd swished her tail at him. Come on, Joe. You aren’t that dumb, are you? Can’t you see it’s me? As if her thoughts had cracked a pathway into his thick skull, realization punched him, almost knocking him off his feet. “Oh, my God. This is Sydney? No way.” He leaned nearer, moving his face within an inch of her muzzle. “No fuckin’ way.” Okay, what are my options here? Syd narrowed her eyes at him and deliberated. I could bite off his nose. Or I could lick him. Eew, no, bad choice. What else? Hmm, I think I’ve got it. She grinned knowing Joe wouldn’t see the wolf grin for what it was, lifted her head, and snorted. The gunk inside her nose sprayed on his face making him jerk upward, stumble, and fall into the arms of his friends. “Urgh! Shit!” Frantically, he wiped his face and regained control enough to stand up. “You blew snot on me!” Syd snarled and then remembered he wouldn’t understand her. Yet Mickale wasn’t willing to let it pass. He shifted in an instant to stand between her and Blair, his glorious naked body sending shivers of lust racing through her. As a wolf or as a man, he is one hot hunk. Syd wagged her tail at him and gave a little bark. “Are you sure, Joe? Maybe she’s just glad to see you.” Joe wiped his hand on his pants, raised his gun, and placed the business end against Mickale’s forehead. “Playtime is up, asshole. Get ready to die.” “Shoot me, Joe. I’m the one you’re really mad at, right?” Even though she’d rather have stayed in wolf form, Syd shifted to stand next to Mickale. Taking his arm, she added, “Can you kill me, Joe? After all we meant to each other?” At least in his mind. But she wasn’t too proud to use his affection for her if it would save her hide. Or Mickale’s. Why isn’t he answering me? Syd’s skin crawled as she realized the reason none of the hunters had said anything. Their hot, hungry eyes seared into her, making her more uncomfortable than before. Uh, oh. I forgot. “Uh, babe. Maybe you want to change to wolf again? Or put some clothes on?” She gulped in fresh air as the embarrassing truth sent a warm flow of pink coloring her cheeks. “My clothes are shredded and I’m basically naked, aren’t I?” “You sure are.” Her mother’s soft voice agreed with her. Please, oh, please. Let my father go blind before he sees me. Pivoting just enough to see him, she knew her prayer came too late. Their eyes met before he jerked his away and turned his head away from her. Yet the hunters and Medusala continued to enjoy the view. Glancing around her, she saw her clothes strewn across the floor in piles of shredded fabric. “Wow. Did I make a mess or what? I guess I only have the one choice.” Without another second’s hesitation, she closed her eyes and shifted. “Mickale, let’s work on the clothes reappearing thing first thing in the morning,

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okay?” As the fur covered her body, she lowered her upper torso and landed on her front paws. “Damn. Why’d she have to go and change?” The hunter who’d made the remark lowered his eyes as Joe spun around and smacked him on the arm. “Watch your mouth, Hank.” “Really, Joe? Do you care? Did you ever truly care or were you after my father’s position and prestige in the group?” If I can keep him yakking about our past relationship, maybe Mickale can come up with a way out of this trap. “Sydney, if you’re trying to talk to me, do it as a human and not as one of them.” Joe waved his gun at her in revulsion. She rose up on her hind legs and pranced around. Distraction. Gotta keep up the distractions. “Sorry. This is what I am. And, oh, hey, didn’t you hear the news? I’m adopted.” Sneaking a peek at Mickale, she shot him a “got any ideas, yet?” look, but he merely shrugged. Great. Just great. “Are you saying you don’t have hunter blood in you at all?” Hey, he understood me! “Nope. And it gets better. My mom got me from a shifter family.” Sounds of disbelief rumbled through the hunter group as the men altered their attention to her mother. But Skeller wasn’t about to let them blame his wife. “Don’t go judging Miriam. She wanted a child and I-I couldn’t give one to her. So she found one on her own.” Joe’s sarcastic tone made Syd want to throw up. “You, the big leader of the hunters, raised a shifter. All these years of making speeches about the evils of werewolves and you were feeding and clothing one of them in your home. And you let me date the bitch, too.” Joe confronted her father who sneered in return. “You make me sick.” “He didn’t know.” The plea in her mother’s voice was unbearable. Syd moved to her mother and sat in front of her. “Neither did Sydney. It was my secret.” “Joe, did we come here to chat with these mutants or kill ‘em?” Hank stepped forward as he lifted his rifle to his shoulder. Again, Joe spat on the floor at her father’s feet and raised his gun in the air. “You’re right, Hank. Let’s—” “Tell them about your secret?” Blair changed into human form, wagging his finger at Joe. “Miriam’s not the only one who’s had a secret all these years, is she, Joey?” “What’s he talking about, Joe?” Hank’s massive forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Hell, I’m getting confused with these things changing back and forth. Either stay a human or stay a wolf. Make up your minds.” Fear flashed across Joe’s face as his gun arm faltered and lowered. “Nothing. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. Get ready to shoot, men, and aim for the head.” Renewing his aim, Joe braced his gun with his other forearm and shot. The shot reverberated around the small room as Hank yanked Joe’s arm up into the air. “Hang on, Joe. We’ve waited this long. We can wait a couple of minutes more. I want to hear what this skinny fella has to say. What secret are you talking about?”

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Blair, who’d hidden behind Medusala, peeked out from behind his broad frame. “Skinny? Why does everyone call me ‘skinny’? I’m lean and trim, and the perfect weight for my height and weight.” “Hank, I’m in charge here.” But Joe’s voice wavered. “Not anymore. After finding out about Skeller’s lies, I think we need to know what this animal’s talking about.” Hank leaned around the medium to poke Blair with his gun. “Talk.” “And get the hell out from behind me.” Medusala who’d remained quiet for most of the time, started to move toward the stairs. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll leave. I’m not a wolf or whatever you other guys are, and I don’t know what’s going on. I’ll leave and you won’t ever hear another peep out of me.” “Stay where you are, girly-man.” Syd stood up on all fours as Hank grabbed Blair’s arm and pulled him away from Medusala. Hank urged him to continue with a hard prod to his ribcage. “Go on with the secret-telling. Or get a bullet in your head.” “Well, if you put it that way.” Blair grinned as Joe nervously awaited his revelation. “Our sweet Joey has another life.” Guessing the assumption the hunters made by the expression on their faces, Blair hurriedly added, “No, he’s not one of us. Thank God for small mercies. No, he’s more like Medusala here.” “The name’s William. And I resent the association you’re making.” “Whatever.” Blair sashayed up to Joe and threw his arm around his neck. “Joe here is one of the best little hot footers at Boy Toys. Really, Medusala, er, William. I’d have thought you’d recognize each other.” William shrugged. “I did. But I thought it safer if I kept my mouth shut.” Syd, engrossed in the whole affair, looked to Hank to see his reaction. The boy has a whole lot of nothing in his head which is why this is taking awhile to sink in. At last, Hank’s eyes narrowed as he finally understood what Blair and William had said. “Shit. You’re a gay dancer?” “Now hold on, Hank.” “Don’t come near me, you, you pervert.” Hank fell in with the remaining three hunters. “Boys, I guess we’ve got a problem on our hands. We’re shifter killers, but not gay bashers. I ain’t sure what to do here.” “Hey, hey, now. Having an alternate lifestyle doesn’t make someone a pervert.” Blair bristled at Hank before pausing to realize what he’d done. “I cannot believe I’m defending a hunter.” He flourished a wave at Joe and sauntered back to take William’s hand. The medium shook him off and pushed him away. “It appears you folks are having a good time. If you don’t mind, we’d like to join the party, too. After all, Blair invited us.” Everyone in the basement looked up the stairs.

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Chapter Thirteen “Well, hallelujah, the cavalry’s here.” Blair wiggled his fingers at the group of nude men standing at the door of the basement. “Took you long enough. I text messaged you a long time ago.” “Ten naked men are in my father’s house. Twelve including Mickale and Blair.” Syd swiveled to her father. “Now there’s something I never imagined saying.” Skeller nodded his agreement. “You and me both.” Blair clapped his hands in delight. “Isn’t this wonderful? I feel like I’m at Boy Toys on Saturday night.” Mickale sauntered over to Blair and Hank. “Before I change form, I think I ought to explain something to you.” He gestured to the men at the top of the steps and continued, “These nice gentlemen are friends of mine. And unless you have silver bullets in those guns, you aren’t going to stop them for long. In fact, shooting them will probably just piss them off more. Isn’t that right, guys?” As one, the ten shifters began transforming even as they growled their agreement. In less than a minute, ten large werewolves padded down the stairs. Mickale and Blair morphed and threw their bodies at the hunters nearest them. The boom of a gunshot was almost lost in the deafening sound of the wolves’ growls as they descended on the hunters. Mickale jumped on two of the hunters before their slow-thinking minds could react to the change in power, knocking their guns harmlessly to the cement floor. Blair’s transformation left Hank holding his foreleg. The stunned hunter held on to his leg even as Blair tried pulling away, leaving Hank holding Blair’s paw. They gaped at each other until Blair reached over and swiped his tongue along Hank’s cheek. “Hankie, baby. If you wanted to dance, all you had to do was ask.” Blair’s smile changed into a snarl as he tore the gun from the hunter’s hand. “But you won’t need this nasty thing.” Hank, unarmed and vulnerable, spun around and tried to dash for the stairs. He released a high-pitched little girl’s scream as Blair’s claws raked down his back to latch onto his belt. With one tug, Blair threw the hunter to his butt. “Stick around, Hankie. You’re not going to leave me here without an escort, are you?” Mickale and the other shifters laughed and howled as they tossed the hunters around like sacks of flour. “Hey, Lucas, want a hunter for your kid?” He flung one of the smaller men toward the large, brown wolf who caught him with one paw. “You mean to play with?” Lucas shook the man and listened to him cry for help. “Naw, not to play with.” Mickale ran a claw down the face of another hunter and watched the man squirm to get away. “To eat.” He poked the hunter, making him yell with each prod, as if testing him. “This one seems tender enough. But if you want, I can gut him and marinate his meat for awhile.” The captured hunter writhed around so much that Mickale had to drop him. The hunter scurried off, bounding up the stairs. “Wow, watch him move!” A prickling sensation zipped along his spine as he looked for Syd. Where was she? Standing motionless in a swirl of human and wolf bodies, each trying to knock the other

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down, Mickale scanned the room for her. She wouldn’t have run off, would she? No, he knew she wouldn’t. Yet he didn’t see her anywhere in the basement. Even William and Miriam were doing their best to fight off the hunters by standing, shoulder to shoulder, behind a group of boxes and slashing with the knives whenever a hunter came too close. “Syd! Where are you?” Could she have gotten injured? Was she lying somewhere with a bullet in her? After her recovery earlier, he knew she’d still be weak and unable to defend herself against a serious attack. Mickale swallowed to keep the bile from rising to his throat. He wouldn’t let himself think the worst. He had to believe she was all right. Had she left? And if so, on her own power? He ducked as one of the hunters swung a bat at him and he retaliated by raking a claw across the man’s chest. The hunter screamed, hurting Mickale’s sensitive hearing, as he clutched the skin hanging from his gaping wound. Yet his mind was on Syd. Where could she be? “Syd!” “Mickale! I need you. Come quick!” The answering howl had Mickale whipping around the room. She was still in the basement. But where? He dropped to all fours and sniffed, but the dankness of the room, combined with the sweat and stench of hunters and shifters alike, blocked any chance he had of finding her by smell. “Mickale!” Her second howl was more urgent, propelling him toward the steps. Yet he was sure the sound came from downstairs. “Where are you, Syd? I can’t find you.” Another hunter reached for one of the guns scattered around and Mickale pounced on him, knocking the air from his body. Gripping the rifle barrel in his mouth, he squeezed as tightly as he could, letting all the frustration and worry for Syd flow into his crunch. The metal bent under his force and he hurled it away. “I’m under the stairs. Hurry!” Darting around the fighters, Mickale dove into the darkness under the steps. Syd sat, in human form, with a musty, old blanket wrapped around her like a makeshift dress, cradling her father’s head in her lap. “He’s hurt, Mickale. One of his so-called buddies whacked him in the head. I dragged him under here to get him out of the way.” Her eyes, so full of terror and pain, pleaded with him. “We have to get him help.” Help a hunter? Mickale froze both in refusal and to deny the possibility of a shifter ever helping a hunter. “No way. He’s the one who started this fight. He’s the one who set up us, along with Joe, and led us into a trap.” Fire deepened the blue pools staring at him, but it was nothing compared to the scorch of her words. “He’s also the one who saved me from the hunters at the lodge. And brought me home to take care of me. He’s my father.” Mickale growled his displeasure. “In one way. But since you know who and what you are, how can you expect me to help him?” “Because you love me as much as I love him.” Her words bulls-eyed the target in his heart, striking with a power he’d never believed could exist. How could he disagree? “I know I’m going to regret this as soon as he comes to, but sling him over my back and I’ll carry him out.”

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Another shot rang out and they instinctively bent lower for cover. “Let’s get going before this gets any worse.” Syd gave his neck a short hug and took her father’s head in hers. “Daddy, wake up. You have to help us.” Yet nothing happened. “Daddy, wake up. It’s Sydney. I need you. Mom needs you.” Skeller moaned and moved his head to the side before opening his eyes to stare up at Syd. “What happened?” He looked from Syd to Mickale and around the tiny space. “You got knocked unconscious by one of your hunting buddies.” Mickale shot Skeller an evil smile. “Looks like even your own kind isn’t too fond of you anymore. What a shame.” “Mickale, now isn’t the time.” Again, she hooked him with her sad eyes and he knew this battle was one he couldn’t win. “Fine, fine. But we need to get him out of here.” He turned to check on the mini-war raging around them. “Your friends are taking a beating out there and when our guys are finished mopping up, I don’t want to stick around and have to explain why I’m trying to save your sorry butt.” “Don’t worry about me. Take Sydney to a safe place. And Miriam, too.” Damn, I hate it when I have to admire an enemy. But the man does understand family loyalty. Mickale snarled his irritation at Skeller. “Your daughter,” he paused to let the word sink in, “doesn’t want to leave without you. She’s stubborn. Must be all those years of living with a hunter.” “Dad, help us get you on top of Mickale.” “What? You expect me to ride on top of a stinking—” “Watch it, bud. This ain’t no pleasure trip for me, either.” Mickale shot Syd a look to say “are you sure we have to do this?” and groaned as she answered with an “if you love me, you’ll help him” expression. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.” With Syd helping him, Skeller managed to sit up on his knees and slide onto Mickale’s back. “Shit, Skeller, ever thought about a diet?” “Just shut up and haul me out of here. Sydney, get your mother.” The three odd companions slipped out of the darkness under the stairs with Syd steadying her father’s hold on Mickale’s back. Waving at her mother, she gestured for her to follow. Miriam grabbed William’s arm to get his attention and together they fought their way over to Mickale, Syd, and Skeller at the first step. To the everyone’s surprise, William whirled around and headed back to help Blair. “Griswold, are you okay?” Miriam touched Mickale with a loving pat as she examined the wound on her husband’s head. “I’ll fine. Let’s get out of here.” “Hold him steady as we go up, Syd.” Mickale twisted his head around and howled a message to the other shifters. “We’re leaving. Don’t leave a mess.” “Don’t leave a mess?” Syd gripped her father as Mickale moved slowly up the first few stairs. “What do you mean?” Oh, I so do not want to answer her question. Instead, he kept his head low and tried to keep his body from rocking too much and throwing Skeller off. But Sydney, being the smart girl she was, figured it out on her own. “You don’t mean…”

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Again, he let her question go unanswered. Hearing the cock of the rifle, he warned the others and lowered his body as the shot echoed through the room. “That one ricocheted off metal.” Resuming his trek, he’d gone up a little farther when Joe shouted at him from below. “I’m going to blow you animals to Hell where you belong.” As if a giant had thrown ice water over the whole group, hunters and shifters alike stopped fighting and stared at the man holding several sticks of dynamite held together by duct tape. “What do you think you’re doing?” Blair jumped off the hunter he sat on to shift into human form again. “Are you crazy?” “I’m warning you.” Joe’s face scrunched up, his veins bulging at the side of his neck while a vibrant red color crept up his neck. “Leave Sydney here and all the rest of you can get out.” “I’m not leaving her with you.” Mickale’s fur stood on end as he twitched his ears in warning. “Not on your life. Or mine.” Joe giggled a strangled, high-pitched sound and Mickale saw the insanity in his eyes. “Have it your way, wolf man.” Without another warning, he pinched a lighter from his pocket and lit the wick. “Everyone move! Get out of here.” Mickale didn’t wait to see if his order was obeyed. Instead, he jumped through the open doorway and bolted through the house. “They destroyed my parents’ home. Just look at what—” “Syd, this is no time to worry about furnishings. Run!” Mickale, with Syd keeping her father on his back, loped from the home as Miriam ran before them. As they crossed the yard and made it to the other side of the street, hunters and shifters poured out of the house and ran in different directions. Skeller flopped off Mickale as Miriam pulled him to her. Syd, her face flushed with excitement, hugged Mickale and planted a kiss on his furry forehead. “We made it!” She grinned as she watched the combatants flee. “Yes, we did.” But where’s Blair? Mickale shifted to human form and took a few paces toward the house. “Mickale, what do you think you’re doing?” Syd’s fingernails scratched his arm as she gripped him and held him with her. “You’re not thinking of going back in there, are you?” “I don’t see Blair. Do you?” Syd scanned the neighborhood. “No. But he got out. He had to. He’s probably running as far away as he can.” Her sad attempt at a laugh fell short. “No. He’d try to meet up with me.” Mickale met Syd’s eyes as his hand fell on hers and pulled it away from him. “I’m going back in for him.” Without giving her time to grab him again, he dashed toward the house. “No! Mickale, come back!” The explosion threw Mickale into the air as Syd and her parents fell backwards.

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Chapter Fourteen Mickale bolted upright and glanced at Syd. “Are you okay?” She nodded and he didn’t wait a second longer. A shout escaped him as he resumed running toward the house. Or what was left of the house. Flames flashed into the air from the middle of the destroyed home as debris from the explosion continued to rain down on them. “Mickale! No!” As he paused to find an opening in the wall of fire, Syd caught up with him and clutched his arm with both hands. “You can’t go in there. You’ll get killed if you do.” “I’m immortal, remember?” He tugged at her hands, trying to get her let go. But, using all her newfound strength, she held on to him. “You’re not totally immortal, you know, and I’m not stupid. Fire is one thing you can’t survive.” “I have to try.” “No, Mickale, he couldn’t have survived the blast.” Her torturous words drove the air from his lungs as he saw her recognize the pain he was in. He knew her heart ached as much as his did for the funny, skinny werewolf, yet she drew herself up, firm resolve etched on her features. Without saying the words, he knew she wouldn’t let him make a fatal mistake. They had too much to live for. “I’m sorry, Mickale. But if he was still in the house when the bomb exploded, then he’s already dead. I won’t let you throw your life, our future, away on a hopeless situation.” He yelled then, an agonized howl, grief mixing with anger at the bluntness and truth of her words. “You don’t know that. I have to check. I can’t leave him behind. He’s my friend.” Mickale’s voice cracked with emotion as guilt drove a knife into him. “Damn me! I did leave him. I left him down there and ran out.” She brought him to her, embracing him to share his grief. “You saved me and my family. Your family. And you warned all the others.” He pushed her away, putting her at arms’ length. “But Blair. He’s always been at my side. And I…” The rest of his words never made it out of his mouth. “Well, for the love of a good lay, you what? Finish what you were saying, Mickey.” Mickale and Syd whirled to see Blair, naked, bruised, bloodied, but alive and standing behind them. Mickale couldn’t help himself. He grabbed Blair to him and hugged him as tightly as he could. “You got out? How? You were standing behind Joe. You couldn’t have had time. So how?” “Sheesh, don’t put so much stress on the bones, will ya? I haven’t taken today’s calcium tablet yet.” Mickale let him go so he could check his body for injuries. “You’re bleeding. Are you all right? Where are you hurt? Talk, Blair.” “Has Hell frozen over? Are pigs flying high? Did a gay get elected President?” Blair laughed. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you ask so many questions in all the years we’ve

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known each other. Not to mention telling me to talk. You usually tell me to shut up.” He tilted his head to slant Mickale a sly look. “Could it be you care about your cutie-pie buddiebud?” “Don’t push it, Blair.” Mickale grinned. He didn’t think he’d stop grinning for a month. “Okay, okay. But ya can’t blame me for wanting to milk the moment, can you?” “Hey, Blair, what do you want me to do with this creep?” Again, the couple turned in the direction of a voice. “Medusala? Uh, I mean, William. You made it out. I’m so glad you—” Syd cut her words off as her gaze traveled from William’s ash-covered features to the crumpled heap of human flesh at his feet. Mickale snarled and stalked over to grab Joe by the hair and lift his face for inspection. Joe, unconscious, reminded him of a marionette a child had forgotten to pick up and put in the toy bin. “So the bastard got out, huh?” William let go of Joe’s shirt and let him slump to the street. “Not through any effort of his. Blair was absolutely brilliant.” William saluted the lithe shifter who bowed in return. “He knocked Joe on the back of the head with one of the broken guns and the jerk dropped like a sack of flour. I hauled him over my shoulder to the wall and Blair threw him out the same window you guys burst through to get inside the basement. Who knew a scrawny little dude like him was so strong? And thank goodness this creep had put a long wick on the bomb or we’d have gotten blown to smithereens.” Mickale laughed as an idea hit him. “Instead of going through the window, why didn’t you just snuff out the flame?” Blair looked at William who echoed the confused expression on Blair’s face. “Gee, why didn’t we think of that?” “Because that would’ve been too easy?” Blair took Mickale’s explanation and ran for it. “Uh, yeah, you’re right. Way too easy for a hero like me.” Slapping Blair on the back in a good-natured way, Mickale congratulated his good friend for his bravery before pointing at the crowd gathering in the streets. The hunters and shifters had disappeared, leaving their small group surrounded by concerned and curious neighbors. Police and ambulance sirens blared in the night air as Mickale took Syd’s hand. “Uh, we may have a problem.” His heart quickened its beat as the corners of her mouth lifted in a soft smile. “I don’t have any problems as long as you’re with me. But what problem are you thinking of?” Mickale darted his eyes at the people gawking at them. “How’re you going to explain your dad’s house blowing up, and you in a blanket standing next to two nude men, a crossdresser, and one unconscious man to your neighbors and the authorities?” ***** Not wanting to answer the inevitable questions, the small group hurriedly dumped the unconscious Joe with Skeller, Blair, and William into the bed of Skeller’s truck, while Mickale, Syd, and Miriam hopped into the cab. With Miriam driving, they headed for Syd’s apartment.

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“All I can say is thank goodness Skeller left his keys in the truck. Too bad he didn’t leave a change of clothing.” Mickale glanced over at Miriam. “Of course, you ladies are probably enjoying sitting next to a virile, young, naked man, huh?” Miriam chuckled and took a peek at his manhood. “Not so much.” “Huh?” Mickale’s bruised ego was hard to miss in the quality of his voice. “Oh, sure, you’re nicely endowed.” “Gee, thanks.” Miriam winked at Syd, reminding her of Mickale’s habit of winking. “But you boys don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.” Syd covered her laughter with a cough as Mickale’s jaw dropped to his chest. “Don’t worry about it, Mickale. I think you’re wonderful to look at. As well as touch, by the way.” Syd sucked in air as she realized what she’d said. “Oh, shit. Did I just say that in front of my mother?” “Don’t worry about it, honey. I know you’re a grown woman.” Her mother shot her a disapproving look as she pulled into Syd’s apartment parking space. “But watch your language.” “Yes, ma’am.” Sneaking from the car into the apartment didn’t go without a hitch as a couple necking in the car next to Syd’s parking spot came up for air as a naked Mickale and Blair jumped out of the truck. “Hi folks. No worries here. Just a little late night skinny dipping. My buddy and I kind of lost our swim trunks.” Mickale saluted the astonished couple. “Don’t you believe it.” Blair snaked his arm around Mickale’s waist and snared him closer. “We’re lovers and nudists. The rest of these folks are voyeurs. Want to come up and join the party?” Syd clamped a hand over her mouth as Mickale pushed Blair away and hurried their group to Syd’s apartment. “Quick thinking there, Mickey.” Blair shouted as Mickale pushed him into the bedroom with Syd following after them. “Hell, if you want to have sex with me all you have to do is ask. No need to get rough. Not unless you like it that way. Does he, Syd?” “Dream on, boney butt. And don’t call me, Mickey.” Blair caught the jeans and t-shirt Mickale threw at him. “Well, my fifteen minutes of fame didn’t last long. From hero to zero in less than an hour. Poo.” “Get dressed and come on.” Mickale pulled on a pair of jeans he’d left at the apartment and topped it off with his favorite Are YOU Wild? t-shirt. Mickale led the way into the living area where Joe was still lights out on the couch. William, however, wasn’t wasting any time taking off pieces of his outfit. “What’re you doing?” Mickale caught the scarf the medium tossed at him. “Leave the man alone. If he wants to go au natural, then I’m not stopping him.” Blair plopped down on the nearby armchair, leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, and gawked. “Don’t even think about it, man.” William snorted and ripped off his bra. “I’ve had it with this stuff. After what I’ve gone through and seen tonight, I don’t want to have anything to do with any kind of alternative lifestyle. Werewolves, gays, mediums, whatever. In fact,

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I’m checking into a good psychiatric hospital as soon as possible. Maybe after some nice, oldfashioned electric shock therapy, I’ll figure out this was all one crazy dream.” Blair rose and skipped over to William to bat his eyelashes at him. “Say it ain’t so, sweet cheeks. Can’t you feel the simpatico between us? Can’t you sense the attraction?” He stayed next to William as the former female impersonator tried to get out of his reach. “I need a big, strong man like you around like house. Or cave, as it is in my case. How about you join me for a romp on the lycan side of life?” Stripped down to the shorts he’d worn under his flower-covered dress, William brushed off Blair’s advances and headed for the door. “Uh, I’d like to say it’s been fun, but it hasn’t. And Mr. Skeller, you go ahead and keep your money. I don’t want anything—” He stopped and pointed at Blair, “or anyone to remind me of tonight.” “No, honey buns. You don’t mean what you’re saying!” Blair reached out for William, but had his hands slapped down. As William flew out the door, the forlorn werewolf cried out in one last attempt. “Come back, Willie, come back.” Poor Blair. Maybe I can help him find his mate. Syd wondered if the same way of howling for your mate would work with homosexual werewolves and decided she’d have to check the guidebook. Blair pouted as he flopped down on the sofa. “Well, shoot. I so wanted a boyfriend named Willie. You know why?” Syd checked with the others. “I think we’re all afraid to ask. But I’ll take the bait. Why?” “Because then I’d have three willies all for myself.” He pursed his lips as he pointed to his crotch. “Get it. My willie, his willie and his name is Willie. A Willie with a willie. What more can a gay shifter ask for?” Syd joined in the collective groan from the group and made a face. “Urgh. I didn’t think it was possible, but your jokes are getting worse.” “I think he’s coming to.” True to her maternal and loving instincts, her mother bent over Joe to study his face. “I’m sure I heard him moan.” “What are we going to do with him?” Skeller, appearing older than he had only a few short days before, looked to his daughter and then to Mickale. “Hey, don’t look at me. He’s your buddy.” “Yes, Mickale, but he’s in my apartment, so I guess he’s our problem, too.” What a difference a few days make. Not long ago I thought Joe was an all right guy and a possible lifetime partner; someone Skeller liked. Now, I don’t feel any emotion toward him at all. Not since finding Mickale. “Well, if you ask little ole me, I don’t think Mr. Joe’s going to give us any more trouble. I’ve let his secret out to his Neanderthal brothers, so they’re not going to welcome him back into their club any longer. He’s persona non grata with the hunters now.” Blair swiveled over to Joe, took his arm, and pulled Joe to a sitting position next to him. “Hey, sleeping beauty, time to wakey-wake.” Joe mumbled a few incomprehensible words and grabbed the back of his head. “Shit! What happened?” He took in the crowd standing around him and tried to make a break for it. Blair’s hand on his shoulder brought him down again. “Where ya going, sweet cheeks?”

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“Let me outta here.” “Oh, I don’t think so.” Blair leaned against the hunter as Joe tried to scoot to the opposite end of the couch. But Mickale thwarted his escape by flopping down on the other side of him. “Joe, buddy, Blair’s right. You need to stick around a bit.” “Why?” Syd could smell the fear radiating from Joe. Am I really smelling fear? Or am I imagining it? Maybe my werewolf senses are kicking in big time? She wanted to ask Mickale, but didn’t want to interrupt the fun. “Because we need to make sure you’re not going to repeat your Unabomber trick again. Or anything else harmful to me and my friends.” Eew! Joe’s sweating so much he’s going to leave a stain on my sofa. “Take it easy, Mickale. You’re scaring him.” Mickale cocked his head in question at her. “Huh? Your ex-boyfriend tries to make mince wolf meat out of us and you don’t want me to frighten him?” Did Mickale just turn green? Syd tried not to show how wonderful his jealousy made her feel. Better she show him later on. “I don’t care about him. I don’t want him sweating so much he’ll leave a stain where he’s sitting. That sofa is brand new.” Mickale’s guttural laugh reminded her of his chuckle in bed. Too much time has passed since he jumped my bones. So tonight’s the night. Syd licked her lips, sending Mickale an unmistakable message that he intercepted and received. He winked at her. “Will you two keep your pants on? We have to deal with this moron, first.” “You’re right, Blair. Sorry.” Not really. I’m not sorry at all. “Trust me, Syd. If I wanted to scare him big time, it wouldn’t be sweat staining your couch.” Eew. Gross. “Then do not terrify him, Mickale, or you’ll have to buy me another couch.” “Can we get back to the business at hand, kiddies?” Blair snuggled up next to a shuddering Joe. With nowhere to go, Joe had to endure his advances. “We know he can’t go back to the hunters after I outted him, so now he’s no threat to us.” “Sure he can. Granted, they didn’t like the idea of his being gay, but they won’t shun him because of his sexuality, will they? After all, they accepted me after Skeller told them I was gay.” A flash of annoyance skirted over Mickale’s features. “Which I’m not, of course.” “It’s not the gay thing they’ll hate him for.” “Why not…Dad?” “Mickale’s right. They’re not happy when a hunter is gay, but they won’t run him out because of it. They’re angry at him because he’s kept a secret from them all these years. Just like they hate me because they think I’ve kept your shifter blood a secret.” The pang of guilt poked her in the gut, almost making her cry for her father. Yet she knew she couldn’t help being what she was. A shifter. A werewolf. By Mickale’s bite and by birth. Still, she’d never meant to hurt him. “I’m sorry, Dad.” “Don’t, Sydney. Don’t ever apologize for what you are.” Her mother walked over and hugged her to her bosom. “You’re who you are because of what you are.”

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“Yes, but I’m also who I am because of the way you and Skeller—I mean, Dad—raised me.” Blair clapped his hands in a take-charge, diva-like manner. “People, stay focused. No more sentimental mush, hear me? What if Joey promised to leave town and never come back? Would we, could we trust him to stay away? What do you say, Mickale?” Mickale studied Joe and then the rest of them before answering. “I think we can.” He allowed his fangs to elongate. “Because if he doesn’t, he knows I’ll have the entire Morgan pack on him before the sun sets on his first day home.” Joe cringed at Mikale’s snarl. “So we’re agreed? Joe can leave town unharmed?” The group took a moment to think before responding to Syd’s question. Mickale frowned, retracted his teeth, and agreed. “I guess. But letting him go is going to ruin all the fun I had in mind for him.” One by one the others nodded their agreement. All except Blair. “What’s wrong? Why are you the odd man out?” Leave it to Blair to be contrary. “Blair’s always the odd man out. No one else is ever so odd or so out.” Mickale chuckled as Blair reached around Joe to push at Mickale’s arm. “Oh, Mickey, you are so funny.” “How many times do I have to say this? Do. Not. Call. Me. Mickey.” “Sorry, Boss Dog. But I’m getting some heavy duty attraction vibes from Joey. In fact, I think he and I are destined for each other.” What the hell? Syd glanced at Mickale and back to Blair, unable to fathom his words. “You two? Destined for each other? As in you howling for him?” “Exactly.” Blair scrunched even closer to Joe and puckered up to blow him a kiss. “Don’t you think so, Joey?” A strangled cry erupted from the hunter as he thrust his body off the couch, onto the floor, and then scrambled for the door. “No! Get him away from me.” Blair fell over onto the cushion as Joe’s supporting arm left him. But he wasn’t one to stay down long. Hopping up, he chased after his love interest. “But Joey! Can’t you feel our connection?” Joe bounded through the open apartment door and down the stairs as Blair rushed after him. “Joey-love! Please, we can make this work, I promise. Howl for me, baby!” At the door to her apartment, Mickale, Syd, and her parents watched the flamboyant shifter chase the frantic hunter across the parking lot and into a field across the street. “Do you think he’ll catch him?” Syd entwined her arm in Mickale’s. “For Joe’s sake, I hope not. The little guy’s really fast, but fear can make a human run like hell, too, so I don’t know. I do know no man, gay or straight, should have to deal with Blair when he’s in heat. ***** The four of them returned to the living room. When her parents took the couch, Syd motioned for Mickale to join her in her favorite oversized chair. Patting the cushion for him, she settled on the arm and took a much-needed breath.

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“Okay. Now that Joe is taken care of, we have one more piece of business to discuss before the police get around to tracking us down. Once they find us, we’ll be too busy answering their questions to sort out our problem.” Glancing at her father and Mickale, she sent her mother a plea in her soft smile. “Where do we go from here? I mean, as a family?” “We are not a family, Sydney.” Her father kept his head down, yet she knew the turmoil inside him from the ache in his voice. “Daddy.” At her use of the affectionate name, he raised his head to stare at her. “Daddy, whether you like it or not, we are. Or, at least, I hope so. But I guess it’s up to you.” Come on, Dad. Don’t make this so tough. Taking another deep breath, she forced out the words she found so hard to say. “I’m adopted. And I’m a shifter.” Sheesh, you’d think I was at a S.A. meeting. Hello, my name is Syd and I’m a shifter. Her father refused her suggestion, but didn’t lower his head as she’d feared he would, giving her a tiny spark of hope. “I’m both. Don’t you see, Dad? I’m both shifter and hunter.” As he opened his mouth to speak, she rushed on, “I’m shifter by blood and by Mickale’s marking, but I’m hunter since you raised me. Can’t we think of me as being the best of both worlds? You know, environment and heredity?” “My family—” His face took on a funny expression. “Our family’s been hunters for several generations. We’ve never had any ani—uh, shifters—in our family. I don’t know how to deal with this.” “Learn to deal with it, man. It is what it is and nothing you do can change it.” Mickale’s challenge elicited an equally stern reaction from her father. “No. I don’t have to accept this. We have a proud tradition of hunting your kind.” “As do we!” The two men hurled their bodies at each other. Nose to nose, they sneered at each other, neither one wanting to give in. “All right! We end it tonight!” Startled by Miriam’s outburst, both men stood their ground but let some of the steam in their stances evaporate. “Mom’s right. We have to come to an understanding.” Syd pushed her way between the two men she loved. She shoved her father back onto the couch. Pointing at the chair, she ordered Mickale to return to his seat. “Listen up, you two. This is how it’s going to happen.” “Sydney, you can’t talk to me like that.” “Yes, Dad, I can and I will.” At Mickale’s chuckle, she whirled on him. “And you, too.” His grin faltered and fell. “What has to happen before this feud, this war, comes to an end? I almost died today.” Balling her fists, she whirled on Skeller. “And what happens when Mickale and I have kids, huh?” Her father groaned, but she ignored it, too furious to stop. “Are you going to hunt your own grandchildren? Hunt us? Will you make them orphans?” She wondered at her father’s wince. What struck a chord with him? Killing his grandchildren? Or thinking about them as shifters?

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“I’m giving you both the same choice.” She waited to make sure she had their undivided attention. “Here’s the deal. You either accept each other—and I’m only asking you to act civilly toward each other and try not to kill the other or—I get out of both of your lives.” She watched as the men gaped at her and then glared at each other. Would they go for her proposition? If not, would she have the strength to leave them behind? She glanced at her mother who stood, unmoving and pale, as if waiting for a judge’s verdict. “You can’t mean what you’re saying.” As usual, her father tested her determination. He should know better than to think he could change her mind. But she knew he’d try anything to do just that. “Yeah, Syd. After all we’ve gone through, you have to come home with me.” Mickale’s dark eyes drew her in and she wanted with all her heart to tell him she’d go to the ends of the earth with him. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she held her resolve and shook her head. “I don’t have to go anywhere with anyone.” The hurt on his face almost brought her to her knees. Mickale, please. Believe in me. Believe in us. Give us a chance. She bit her lip to keep from pleading with him. Instead, she turned to her father and silently made the same plea. Come on, Dad. Do this for me. “You don’t understand, Syd. For centuries, they’ve hunted us, murdered us. First out of fear, then out of hatred. Sometimes for the sport of it.” Mickale raked his hand through the white streak in his hair. “To ask me to forgive hunters…” He gripped the back of his neck, frustration creasing his forehead. “Hell, you may as well ask me to turn into a pumpkin.” “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he’s right.” “So you won’t give it a try either, Dad?” Both of the men shook their heads and glowered at each other. Tears blurred her vision as she struggled to keep from letting them see the tears. Damn it. Why are the two men in my life so stubborn? You’d think they’d gotten together and decided her fate long ago. “Can’t you see how this hatred has caused heartache and pain on both sides? Maybe long ago werewolves were bad.” She raised her hand to silence Mickale. “But that’s ancient history. Now they’re just like us.” This time she lifted her hand to stop her father’s protest. “They live among humans. They work among humans. Damn it, they even mate with humans. And they’ve evolved like humans have. Just like hunters have.” “No, Sydney. They’re evil creatures.” Her father’s retort was filled with emotion. “Don’t you remember anything I’ve taught you?” “Why?” She dropped to her knees in front of him, taking his hands in hers. “Why are they evil?” Surprise registered on his face as he grasped for an explanation. “Yeah, Skeller. Tell us why you think shifters are evil? What did we do? Kill babies? Murder your wives? Beat up old men on the street?” Mickale scoffed at Skeller’s inability to answer and leaned forward. “Come on, tell us.” “You know what your kind has done. You kill innocents. And worse. If you don’t kill them, you turn them into one of you.” Syd pivoted on her heel as Mickale’s laughter filled the room. “Gee, I haven’t killed any babies in a long, long time. Guess I’m due, huh?” He snarled as her father tried to lunge at him. Syd, however, held her father back. “We don’t hurt anyone who doesn’t try to hurt one

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of us first. We aren’t the ones tracking and hunting prey. You’re the hunters. We’re the hunted.” “See, Dad. Who knows what went on in the past? But today is different.” “It’s true, Skeller. Have you ever seen a werewolf attack anyone without first being attacked? Without first being cornered by one of your people and having no other option except to fight for their lives?” Again, her father couldn’t find the words. Instead, he opted to take the conversation in another direction. “What about Sydney?” “What about her?” Mickale looked to Syd for an answer. She couldn’t, however, give him one. “You attacked her. You changed her into one of you.” Now it was Mickale’s turn to search for the right words. Until Syd decided to jump in for him. “No, Dad. He didn’t attack me. He marked me as his mate. I wanted him to. I called him to me using the instructions in the book.” Her dad stared at her as if she were a stranger. “How could you have wanted him to do something so awful?” “Awful?” Her voice cracked at the accusation. “Does it make me awful for wanting him to mark me? Does it make me awful for wanting to spend my life with him?” She waited for a reply and got none. “I guess I have my answer.” Standing, she reached out for Mickale. “Take me to your home.” “No, honey. Don’t go. I’ll help your father understand. He needs time, is all.” Her mother rushed to take her arm and tried to pull her away from Mickale. “Will you, Mom? Can you? Do you understand and accept Mickale?” The tears streamed down her face. “I’m a werewolf, Mom.” Her mother smiled through tears of her own. “I know, honey. I’ve always known, remember? I loved you then, and I love you now.” She took Mickale’s other hand. “Mickale and I are fine. Right?” Mickale stiffened as her mother placed a kiss on his cheek and then relaxed. A wide grin spread across his face as he grinned at her mother. “Hey, if it means getting kissed by a pretty lady, I’m more than fine.” A spurt of joy leapt through her as she watched her mother and her mate share a connection. At least I’ll have one parent on my side. But can I leave my father and let him hate me for the rest of his life? “Dad? Do you hate me?” Her father jolted as if knocked by an unseen force. “Hate you?” Syd held her breath and waited, hoped, and prayed. Standing to draw himself to his full height, Skeller studied each of them in turn until finally fixing his gaze on her. “I could never hate my little girl. No matter what.” A tiny spark of joy lit within her, but she steadied her nerves, ready for that spark to be snuffed out. “Then you’ll try and give us a chance? Will you stop hunting, Dad? For me?” “No. I can’t, Sydney. I don’t know how to do anything else besides hunt shifters.” At his pause, she could almost feel her heart slamming shut. I can’t let what he says hurt me. Whatever he says, I know where I belong. With one last look at her parents, she led Mickale into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

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Epilogue (A few months later) “Syd?” “Yeah?” She snuggled her backside closer to Mickale, enjoying the way her nude body fit with his. “Whatever happened to the book?” Her mind was a million miles away thinking about what she needed to tell him. “What book?” “You know. The guidebook about dating immortals. I haven’t seen it for awhile. Since you have your immortal, did you toss it?” She knew he was kidding, but decided to act as though she didn’t know. “Mickale! I’d never throw a book away. Especially a special book like the guide.” Although her back was to him, she could sense the smile tipping up the corners of his mouth. “Well then, what’d you do with it?” “I passed it on. When you find a good book you want to give it to someone who could benefit by reading it.” “So you gave it away? To anyone I know?” She laughed and wiggled her bottom against his growing front. “Nope. But it’s in good hands.” They grew quiet, enjoying the sounds of the night around them. “So? What’d you think?” Mickale nuzzled Syd’s ear in the exact spot he knew would drive her crazy. “Hmm? What’d I think about what?” She rested her weight on him. Sighing, she watched the pack of cubs play in the meadow below their vantage spot on the rocks. The view under the full moon was almost as nice as the company. “Are you sure they can’t see us up here?” “I’m positive.” A nip on her ear told him what he thought about her kidding him. “You know what I’m talking about. What’d you think about my family?” “Oh, your family.” She giggled as he continued nipping along her bare shoulder. “Well, let me see. Hmm, Brogan. Your father seems gruff, but I think he’s a pussy cat underneath his tough exterior.” “Let him hear you refer to him as a pussy cat and you’ll find out how tough he is.” Mickale’s tongue traced the same path as his teeth. “He’ll bite your head off.” I bet he would, too. Syd leaned her head to the side and craned her neck to place a peck on his cheek. “I like him. He reminds me of my father.” Mickale choked at the comparison. “You’re kidding, right?” “No. Seriously, think about it. They’re both leaders. They’re both rough. And they both love their kids.” Even though Skeller hasn’t accepted my new life yet. But one day he will. “Okay, maybe they’re a little alike. Shit. So far you’ve compared my old man to a cat and a hunter. Yep, you sure know how to win and influence your new family members.” His

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hands roamed to her full, bare breasts. His lust-filled moan sent a flood to the crevice between her legs. “Then there’s your brother, Devlin.” “Mmm? Yeah, my brother. And?” One hand slid over the small mound of her tummy, past the furry patch of hair to finger its way through the folds. “Mickale, do you want to hear my impressions or what?” She gasped as his index finger rubbed her clit, the nub swelling until she throbbed. “Go on. I’m listening.” His teeth scraped down her arm as he turned her to face him. How she loved his mouth on her! The way he played with one part of her body while his mouth caressed another made her pant with desire. “Uh, what was I saying?” “My brother, Devlin.” He dropped in front of her to kiss her. Not on her mouth. She moaned and fought to keep her mind on her words. “He’s great. So handsome. So much in charge. So—” “If you say ‘sexy’ I’m going to have to beat him and ugly up his face.” “Ah, the green head of jealousy strikes a—” Her sharp intake of air broke into her train of thought, silencing her. “You were saying?” Warm air mixed with the cool night air between her legs as he shoved her bottom up on the rock to give him freer access. “Oh, yes! Keep it up, Mickale. Oh, man, I like what you do with your tongue.” She stretched her body over the rock, letting the moonlight cascade over her breasts as she fondled them. “Syd, baby, keep your mind on the discussion. About Devlin?” “Devlin? Oh, yeah, I was going to say he’s so much in love with Tala. And he’s a great father to their children.” “Good answer.” Leaving her wanting for more, he stood up and thrust into her. Taking her face in his hands, he urged her on even as they clung to each other, rocking her body against the gritty texture of the stone under her. “And what did you think about Tala?” “She’s terrific. I’m amazed at how, uh, she handles the—oh, yes, Mickale—kids without any effort.” Entwining her legs around him, she matched his hard rhythm with one of her own. Squeezing, she wrapped her cave around his shaft, pulling him to his finish. “You know she wants you to stay and teach the children.” Sweet sweat ran down his toned chest and she lifted on her elbows to lick one of the rivulets beckoning to her. “I know.” “Well?” “I guess I’ll have to.” He laughed and then cried out as his climax swept over him. She arched against him, tugging him to her as she shuddered her own release. They lay unmoving for awhile, savoring the sensation of their skin and smells mixing together. “Someone once told me she didn’t have to go anywhere with anyone. Seems to me the same thing would hold true for staying anywhere with anyone. In other words, you don’t have to teach here if you don’t want to. We can always live in town so you could keep your job at the school.” He rose off her, tugging her back to her feet.

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“I want to. These children are so special, so free.” Taking him by the hand, she slid her other hand onto his shoulder. “Where else do kids get to run around at night like this? Besides…” “Tala will call them into the cave soon.” He questioned her with his eyes. She started to sway, moving him with her. “What are you doing? And besides what?” “I need to tell you something.” As they danced in a circle, molding their bodies to each other, she took his mouth with hers. He responded, drinking in her juices until she broke away. “So tell me.” He winked at her and grinned the special grin she knew he saved just for her. “What'cha got up your sleeve, woman?” “I’m not wearing any sleeves.” She giggled and grew serious as she dived into his deep brown depths. “I want to stay and run the school. After all, I love teaching children. And I’m sure teaching my own will be even better.” When he didn’t get her hint, she rolled her eyes and added, “I’m pregnant, you boob.” He blinked and did nothing more. No reaction at all. “Mickale?” Had she misjudged him? She’d thought he’d rejoice at the news but, as he stood staring at her, she wasn’t sure any longer. “Mickale, say something. You’re scaring me.” He blinked again and narrowed his eyes. “You’re going to have a baby?” “That’s what pregnant means.” “And it’s mine, right?” Her jaw dropped as she glared at him. “Tell me you didn’t just say what I think you said.” “Well, you did say my brother was handsome and a good father.” Mickale wiggled his eyebrows and winked at her again. “Oh, you dog, you!” Bringing back her arm, she prepared to swing at him, but he caught her arm halfway to his face. “I ought to—” Taking her other arm, he put both around his neck and drew her close. “You ought to know I’m ribbing you. But I know one thing I’ll never joke about.” Suspiciously, she gave him an “I’m not sure if I should trust you” expression. “Yeah? What?” Her pulse quickened as he touched her soul with one look. “My love for you.” She melted then, from the top of her head to the bottom on her feet. “Kiss me, wolfie.” Mickale’s laughter rang out over the meadow as he leaned in and kissed her in the moonlight.

The End