
This is an explicit and erotic novel intended for the enjoyment of adult readers. Please keep out of the hands of children.
The Werewolf Whisperer copyright 2007-8 by Ericka Scott
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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The sky darkened; only a few minutes of daylight remained. He prayed for enough time to end, with one silver bullet, the terror stalking this night. The steel barrel of the revolver was cold against his forehead and he shivered. It was now or never.
A woman's scream; sweeter than any siren's call. He paused and sniffed, savoring the moment; the scent of her terror strong in the air. Unnoticed, the revolver clattered to his feet.
Above him, the tattered remnants of a cloud parted to reveal the full moon. He threw back his head and howled. My Werewolf Lover by Michael O'Toole
The animals had been restless all day. The chickens weren't scratching around in the dirt looking for seeds and bugs. They just sat in a tight huddle, shivering. The old Labrador retriever, Tucker, stormed back and forth in the yard. When he wasn't pacing, he was pawing at the door to be let in. Then, as soon as he was inside, he'd look out the window and whine to be let back outside. Since morning, Mike O'Toole had been plagued with an uneasy feeling that just wouldn't go away.
Could a storm be brewing? The dry desert heat had given way to a cool evening. A frigid wind whipped the tumbleweeds across the land and high into the air.
Mike California mewling.
Is that a dog's whimper? Tucker sat upright and alert, staring out the window. Mike glanced out into the yard but saw nothing. Then he heard it again. He turned down the radio and listened. It was a dog, he was sure of it.
chopped vegetables for soup, off-key to the radio when he whistling Hotel heard something
He retrieved his shotgun from the gun rack and loaded it with ammunition he kept stored in the hall closet. He wasn't afraid of dogs. On the contrary, he loved them. But wild dogs were another story. Roaming the desert in marauding packs, wild dogs were fearless and fearsome. They'd been known to kill house pets and attack anyone who crossed their paths. A wounded wild dog, separated from its pack, could be vicious and unpredictable. No, he'd shoot first and ask questions later. In the half-light of the porch, he couldn't see a thing. He flicked the light switch on, and jumped when the bulb blew out with a snap. The wind whistled and moaned around the eves. Was that what he'd heard? No, there it was again.
It was sounding less and less like a wounded dog. He shivered as cold tendrils of fear crept down his spine. Why in the world was he so afraid? He was the one with the gun. Gun up, ready to shoot, he crept along the side of the house. There it was again. This time it sounded like it was over near the barn. Perhaps it was after the chickens. He held his breath as he listened. Although the chickens were now clucking with vigor, they weren't panicked like they would be if a coyote or dog had gotten into the pen. He was going to feel pretty stupid if there wasn't anything there. Perhaps it was just the wind howling through the eves. However, when he heard it again, the whimpering sounded louder and desperate.
He swung the gun around the corner first, then stuck his neck out to look. Still nothing. Wait, no, there was something lying against the house. He crab-stepped over and looked down.
What the hell? It wasn't the wounded dog he'd expected to see. It was a woman. Her breathing was coming in tiny gasps in between whimpers. He knelt and turned her over.
Well, he'd had one fact right. Dogs. The woman's clothing hung in tatters and she was covered in blood. She'd probably been savaged by dogs, very large dogs by the looks of it.
Damn. His cell phone was in the house, sitting on the kitchen counter.
"I'm going to leave you here for a minute so I can call an ambulance."
"No." The woman's voice was strong and vibrant, not at all like he expected for a woman in pain. "Please, no. I don't want a doctor. I just need some food and water, maybe a little sleep."
"Lady," Mike said, shaking his head. "You're all torn up. You need stitches and a rabies shot, at the very least."
"No. Please, you can take care of me. I'll be fine." The woman grabbed his arm and clung to him as if her very life depended on it. Mike was surprised at her strength. She must not be hurt as seriously as he first thought.
The sun was setting and the temperature was expected to plunge below freezing. He had to get her inside and fast. "Okay, I'll do what I can."
Leaning the shotgun against the side of the house, he bent to lift the woman. She weighed more than he'd expected for someone so small. He carried her into the house. Tucker greeted him at the door with a low growl.
"Tucker, quiet!" Mike commanded. Tucker backed away, baring his teeth. His dog never acted like this, even with strangers. Mike was puzzled but too busy to think about it.
Laying the woman on his bed, he pulled his scattered thoughts together and took stock of what he needed to do. First off, he'd have to clean her wounds and perhaps he could stitch up the worst of the tears in her flesh. But if she'd been attacked by a rabid dog...
Refusing to think about that possibility, he rummaged through cupboards and his medicine cabinet, gathering up gauze, iodine, rubbing alcohol, a needle and thread, and some leftover pain medication from when he'd hurt his knee. Then he gathered up his nerves for what he was about to do. All the while, he was calling himself an idiot. He should just call an ambulance.
He walked back into his bedroom and stood stock still. When he'd left, the woman had been curled up in a ball moaning with pain. Now? Yet, as he took in the sight that greeted him, his heart began to hammer and he felt an uncomfortable tightening of his jeans. She was on her back, one arm tucked under her head, a smile and a come hither look in her eyes.
Chills danced down Mike's spine. Had Tucker had been right to be leery of bringing her into the house? But then he made eye contact with her and his fearfaded away. Hell, she was just a tiny woman and almost naked. She was only wearing a pair of black lace panties so it was obvious she had no weapons. She didn't look like she was a threat.
Mike held up the items in his hands. "I'm just going to clean you off a bit and take a look at your wounds. You look like you're feeling better." Now, that was an understatement.
Mike perched on the side of the bed and tried to make idle conversation as he wet a pad of gauze with rubbing alcohol. The woman just stared at him, making gooseflesh crawl up his arms and back. He wished he hadn't left his gun leaning against the outside of the house.
Her neck and left shoulder looked as if they had sustained the most damage as they were thickly coated with blood. He dabbed at her shoulder. "Let me know if this hurts." To his surprise, the blood came off and left smooth white skin in its wake.
A sudden thought assailed him. Perhaps this woman isn't the injured one; perhaps the blood is from her victim. Just when he was about to ask her if it was her blood, she spoke.
"It is my blood." The woman's voice was a soft, seductive caress.
"I don't understand," Mike murmured, more to himself than to her. He swiped at a bloody spot on the woman's thigh. The blood came off, again revealing no injury. "With this much blood, you have to be cut somewhere." "I was, but now I'm not." "Why are you here?" Mike put down the gauze. His interest
in the woman waned momentarily. "You care for sick animals. I knew I'd be safe here." "Safe from what?" The woman didn't answer his question. Instead, she averted
her eyes and looked out the window. "It's getting dark." "Yeah, but it'll be bright as day out there once the moon
rises." "Exactly." "Well, since you say you aren't injured..." Mike put down the gauze. He wanted to look everywhere except at her nearly naked body and the luscious mounds of her breasts. His cock had been uncomfortably hard since he'd started cleaning her wounds and he was now starting to have crazy thoughts of how to get his hands on her breasts. Her nipples were large and soft, but as if she could feel his thoughts, the peaks tightened and he had an almost irresistible urge to take one in his mouth, to taste her while he---
Whoa, put the brakes on that thought. He didn't even know this woman's name. As much blood as she was wearing, she could be related to the Borgias.
He reigned in his imagination and tried to grin. "I'm new in town, but I assume you live around here. I can run you home. Maybe you should shower and clean up here so you don't scare your family."
Without meaning to, his eyes took in the rest of her form. She wore an unusual navel ring, some sort of stone amulet, and his gaze fell lower, down her flat stomach to the thatch of curly dark hair peeking through the sheer lace of her thong. Thinking about exploring her sweet secrets made Mike's cock twitch.
"Yes, I will shower here." The woman smiled up at him and Mike shivered, the look in her eye reminded him of a predator sizing up its prey.
A shower had seemed like such an innocent suggestion at the time, but now, thinking of her, naked and wet, took his breath away. "I'm Michael O'Toole, by the way." "Jazmin Carmichael." "The Postmistress?" Mike croaked. He had seen her name on the form he'd filled out to request mail service at his house. He'd noticed the name because of its unusual spelling. With her silver blond hair, grey eyes and toned body, he would have pegged her for an aerobics instructor or model. He could not envision someone this beautiful delivering mail or selling stamps behind a counter. "The one and only," she replied with a smile and a wink. Where is the injured, desperate woman from a few minutes ago? However, he no longer seemed to be able to think rationally, all he could think about was touching her, tasting her, fucking her.
"So, where is the shower?" She rolled onto her hands and knees and slowly crawled off the bed. Her hips swayed and her nipples trailed a path on the bedspread. He suppressed a moan, almost feeling the hardened peaks dragging across his chest. What had this woman done to him? She hadn't drugged him, but he felt like he was in a waking dream. Mike leaned against the wall, his eyes closed, while he envisioned himself kneeling behind her, his hands parting the soft round cheeks of her buttocks while he plunged---with a conscious effort he pulled his thoughts back to the present. He had to stop thinking like that!
Trying to walk normally despite the hard-on pressed against his zipper, he hoped she didn't notice his erection. He opened the bathroom door with a flourish. "Let me get---"
She slid her arms around his neck, pulled him close, then kissed him. Her lips grazed over his, softly at first, then, she sucked his bottom one into her mouth. She ran her tongue around his lips, letting it slide deeper and deeper into his mouth until he wrapped his arms around her. She might have been a stranger, but he couldn't say no to the invitation her body was sending him.
Mike stared into her eyes as if hypnotized. He barely noticed she was undressing him with frenzied movements until the chill air hit his skin causing gooseflesh to dance up his arms and back. This can't be happening, shouldn't be happening. Her mouth trailed wet kisses down his torso, stopping to suck his nipples erect. Her hands held his arms tight against his sides and she continued her exploration past his stomach to the length of his penis. Her warm wet mouth enveloped him and her tongue explored his shaft. He knew he was oh-so-close to release with his balls pulled up tight against him. A few more wet pulls from her mouth and he would be there.
Jazmin abruptly stood up, her body trembling against him. She let go of his hands and tangled her fingers in his hair. His disappointment faded when her tongue plunged into his mouth and his cock pressed into the heat of her belly.
He slid his hands up to touch her breasts, brushing his fingers over her nipples and wanting to tease the tight buds with his fingers, mouth, and teeth, but she impatiently pushed his hands away. "No, I need you. Now," she moaned.
She turned in his arms and wiggled her ass against his throbbing cock before kneeling in front of him. She threw a sizzling look over her shoulder and Mike was convinced she'd read his mind. He fell to his knees behind her. He stroked her soft rounded bottom, and as he squeezed and parted her ass cheeks he could feel taut muscles beneath the skin. Finally, he trailed his hand lower to spread her folds. He delved his fingers into her hot wetness, spreading her fluids and savoring the anticipation of what was to come. "Now," she growled. He didn't have to be told twice. He drove into her. Wet and ready, her pussy gripped him tighter than he'd expected. As he moved in and out, she struggled against him, trying to keep from slipping across the slick bathroom floor. He grabbed her hips and held her tightly against him while he pounded her with frenzied urgency. She slid forward a few inches and braced herself against the shower stall. The rattle of the glass door sounded like it was about to shake off its track. He reached forward and cradled her breasts in his hands. He tugged on her nipples and she bucked against him, mewling and panting. Her back arched up into him, causing him to let go of her breasts, but he'd gotten what he needed. Her new position allowed her to take him deeper inside her and he spread her thighs so he could watch himself, slick and wet, sliding in and out of her. With a cry, he held her against him while she fought his restraint. Waves of pleasure washed over him.
As his orgasm ebbed and he became aware of his surroundings, he noticed something odd. Her skin didn't feel smooth anymore. It felt rough, like it was covered with hair. With a growing sense of horror, he opened his eyes.
The bathroom was bathed in moonlight from the one high window above the shower stall. Everything looked normal, gleaming porcelain and stainless steel. Everything, except for the woman. Her skin, if it was indeed skin, had turned to silver gray. And her head was the wrong shape. She no longer looked quite...human.
Repulsed, Mike tried to disengage. Backing desperately, he felt like he was stuck in a vise. What is happening? Then, with a Herculean effort, he pulled free of her and fell over backward. He hoped his penis was still intact, but damn it, he was too afraid to look. Jazmin looked over her shoulder at him, her tongue lolled out of her mouth and he couldn't tear his gaze away from her long white fangs.
Gasping, he tried to breath. His chest, oh God, his chest hurt. He felt like he was dying. Maybe he was dying. Maybe he was having a heart attack. Maybe he was dead already, the chemicals in his brain causing neurons to misfire and dreams to seem real. For he knew, without a doubt, that women didn't turn into wolves. It had to be a hallucination. But, hallucination or not, he continued to back away.
With a low growl, the Jazmin-wolf turned to face him. Before she could attack, Mike slid out into the hall and slammed the bathroom door shut behind him. Shit. The lock was on the inside. Could a wolf turn the knob to open the door?
Pulling the door closed with all his weight, he struggled to stay calm and think. He braced himself against the door frame as his feet slipped and he was pulled forward. The door was opening. There had to be a way to get to his gun before the wolf got to him.
At the sound of a low growl behind him, he turned in terror and his instincts took over. He let go of the knob and dodged around the dark shadow in the hall like a quarterback going for the goal and then he ran as if his life depended on it.
It would be a terrier. Serena O'Toole would have known if she'd been listening as Mr. Kyle, her producer, went over the script for the show. Instead, to her embarrassment, she nodded off. She had tossed and turned most of the night before, falling asleep just minutes before the alarm went off. At the rough rasp of his throat she jerked awake. But, instead of finishing his briefing, he'd walked off in a huff.
She tried not to worry about what she'd missed. What was there to worry about? She knew a lot about dogs and so she should. As the hostess of the popular television program, "Woof," she had perfected ways to train even the most difficult dogs. Too bad her first grasp at commercial success and a possible national network spot would be ruined by lack of sleep and a wire-haired terrier.
Serena rolled her shoulders, trying to relieve some of the pressure. She hadn't slept well for a couple of weeks now, and woke up this morning with a distinct sense of unease. She tried to write it off as just a case of nerves over this audition. This could be her big break. But... There was always a but. She loved "Woof," and taking the show from a concept to reality had been a blast. However, the last couple of shows had the owners of the dogs taking the spotlight. They were celebrities with a capital C. Fan letters used to be addressed to favorite dogs, now they were addressed to the celebrity of the day. It was spoiling the whole focus of the show. And if "Woof" went national...
She sighed. Perhaps today would be different. Hell, a terrier was definitely a challenge with a personality. Not the breed she'd pick for the national network audition. Terriers were stubborn and territorial as all get out. No, give her a Labrador or golden retriever, heck, better yet, a mutt. But, the network called the shots, not her. So, here she was.
Looking around the studio, decorated to resemble her small cluttered living room, she shot an uncertain smile at her assistant, James. In return, he flashed a thumbs-up and a bright smile. After her debacle with the producer, James had followed him and probably spent his energy defusing Mr. Kyle's explosive temper. Oh, why did she always do the wrong thing at the right time? Serena hoped the thumbs-up signal meant James had been able to rectify some of the damage she'd done by falling asleep. The man was a gem; either that or he was psychic. Knowing James, it was a little of both.
The owner of the terrier was Margaret Moran, an actress on the daytime soap opera, "Secrets and Sins." The show had excellent viewer ratings and the network selected the pert brunette star for the auditions. It also helped that Margaret had an out-of-control dog.
Murphy, the terrier in question, raised his head from his new scotch-plaid dog bed sitting on the table in front of his mistress. Despite his sedation and injuries, he still tried to snap at James, who was over six feet tall and weighed over three hundred pounds. Yep, the dog was definitely territorial. Serena appraised the small dog with a grim expression.
Murphy looked nothing like a purebred Yorkshire terrier and more like a washed up prizefighter with scarred and torn ears. In his four short years, he had picked fights with every four-legged beast he'd encountered, not to mention trying to dominate everyone on two legs. His coat was a patchwork of bald spots received from battles he'd fought and lost.
Serena ran a comb through her short dark hair and examined her makeup in the mirror. There was a tiny speck of mascara on her cheek, so she flicked it off with a well-bitten fingernail. Then, she checked to make sure her eye shadow was even above both her hazel eyes. To finish, she flashed herself a big smile to make sure there was no lipstick on her teeth. There, she was now ready.
"I don't know what to do with him." Margaret's large blue eyes brimmed with tears and Serena could understand her appeal to the audience. "I can't even take him for a walk anymore." Murphy looked up at her and his stubby tail wagged enthusiastically, he looked ready and willing to go for a walk, no matter how he felt right now. "He attacks every other dog and cat we meet." She ran her hand over the dog's coat. "Murphy dug under the fence to get at my neighbor's husky, Kong. By the time we got the dogs separated, it was almost too late." Margaret paused and looked at her dog with a fond expression. "Do you think he'll learn his lesson from this? I don't think I could lose Murphy after everything else I've lost." Leaning forward, Margaret buried her head in Murphy's side and sobbed.
Serena tried to not look aghast, but could see from James's frantic hand movements that her face had betrayed her feelings. She blinked rapidly as she thought. Should I try to comfort Margaret or just carry on with the audition? Is this in the script?
She took a deep breath and prepared to give her lines. She hoped they hadn't been changed at the last minute and that her voice would sound compassionate and warm as she delivered her lines. Mentally she rehearsed them. Dogs didn't learn lessons like children, they understood rewards. Here was her only opportunity to tout her knowledge and impress the network CEO. She absently patted Margaret's back to both comfort the woman and get her attention, when the starlet suddenly lurched up, pulled away from her, and screamed.
"No one touches Miss Moran!" a horrified assistant shouted. Serena looked up, the red light on the camera telling her they were still filming.Now what do I do?
"Get your germ-laden hands off me!" Margaret screeched. Then, she began moaning and carrying on. The assistant, dressed in a blue power suit and red power tie and standing on the sidelines, dashed over and began spraying the starlet with disinfectant spray.
What the hell? She didn't have bubonic plague and it's not like the germs would be able to penetrate the starlet's crisp linen suit. The starch in it alone would be a deterrent. Unfortunately, Serena pictured her germs, dressed in battle gear, preparing to invade the fortress of the suit. Despite her best efforts, Serena began to giggle and then to snort with laughter. She covered her mouth and tried to rein in her mirth. The assistant just glared at her and James looked more than a little stricken. "Cut!" the director called. "Let's try this again from the
beginning of the lesson." Serena gulped back a giggle and tried to compose her face
into some semblance of sobriety. "Please remember. No one touches Miss Moran," the
assistant scolded. Nodding, Serena took a deep breath and hoped her voice didn't crack as she addressed the camera. "Unfortunately, dogs don't learn lessons like humans do." Focusing back on Margaret, she continued, "I know this isn't what you want to hear, but it's what you need to hear. Murphy needs your help to control his behavior. He's territorial. Everything he sees is his, even you. Especially you." Serena paused for the emphasis to sink in and once again addressed the camera. "Owners must set proper boundaries for their dogs." She turned to Margaret with a smile and hoped it didn't look like a smirk. "Let me ask you a simple question. Does Murphy sleep on your bed?"
Margaret didn't answer the question. Instead she averted her eyes and her voice dropped to an almost whisper. "Is that so wrong?" She flicked her hair back and gave Serena a pitiful look, her large eyes swimming in tears. "He'll get cold and lonely. He cries at night if I don't put him up on the bed with me. I can't believe that having him sleep on the floor would make a difference."
"He's a dog, Margaret," Serena snapped, her tone more harsh than she had intended. "Letting him sleep on the bed with you elevates him to where he feels he's your equal. It's important for you to be his pack leader. Either that or he's just going to keep getting into trouble."
Margaret's face hardened. "Well, that's just your opinion, isn't it? My dogs sleep on the bed with me. It's not a problem."
Serena resisted the urge to gape at the woman. This was not in the script. Well, if she could do it, so could Serena.
"You could lose your dog. One of these days you might not be able to save him. Or, what happens if he bites a child?"
"And who would make me give him up? Animal control, the city, you?" Margaret's voice held a tone of challenge. "Please, I'd be on the front page of every scandal sheet for weeks. People would be outraged. Look how harmless he looks." Margaret smiled down at the terrier and Serena felt a sudden wave of pity for the dog.
What in the world could she say now? Looking over at the sidelines for guidance, she made eye contact with James. He made forward rolling movements with his hands, indicating she should get back to the script. But nothing like this had been covered in the script. She was going to have to wing it.
"All I'm saying is you have to learn to be his pack leader, not his friend. My staff and I can teach you how, but you're going to have to work at it and take the lessons to heart. And it's going to take time. There are months of work ahead of you. Murphy's behavior won't change overnight. So, first things first, no more sleeping on the bed."
"No," Margaret disagreed. She ran her manicured hands down Murphy's back, her long, fake blood-red nails looking like claws.
"The training won't work if you don't put the effort into it." Serena made a valiant effort to pull the conversation back to the script.
"Training? Depriving my beloved puppy of my love and affection is training? You don't know the first thing about it. Manny! Emmanual!" Margaret shrieked and the assistant came back across the studio floor at a run. "I've had enough. Take Murphy home. I have real work to do!"
Serena watched Margaret order her staff around and then waltz out the door. It took a few seconds for the reality to sink in. Her one chance at a network slot was gone, shattered by tiny terrier feet.
Damn it all anyway . She began to unhook her microphone when she saw James dancing in place and pointing at the camera. Shit!They were still filming, waiting for her signoff.
Turning to address the camera, Serena tried to smile. "Training dogs takes hard work and persistence, but it pays off in a well-trained companion you'll be proud to take for a walk down the street. Until next time, woof."
She knew her voice held a lack of enthusiasm, but who could blame her? When she'd first started the show on public television, it had been so exciting. She'd felt like she was making a difference in the lives of both dogs and owners. But, with this audition, she could see the writing on the network wall. It would just be the same old problems, just different dogs with rich, spoiled owners. Serena tried to shrug off her feeling of failure. She knew she'd lost the network slot, and after her poor performance today, she thought she might lose her job as well.
She walked away from the set, her hands jammed in her pockets. James gave her a sympathetic look and a light punch in the arm. In silence, they walked off the set together.
They strolled through several corridors lined with photos from televisions shows dating back thirty years. Some of the shows were obscure, some famous. And after today, she knew exactly what category "Woof" would fall into.
James finally broke the silence. "Well, that didn't go so bad."
Serena fought the urge to burst into hysterical laughter. If that hadn't been so bad, she didn't know how it could have been worse. "You're quiet today. Are you okay?" James persisted. "Yes," Serena replied automatically and caught James's sharp glance. "Actually, no. You know that feeling you get when something is wrong, but you just don't know what it is? I thought it was just nerves over the show. But now I'm wondering if it's something else. Something just feels off."
"Could be a lot of things," he replied. "Something with your family, perhaps. A couple of years ago, I had an odd feeling. I went home and called everyone in the family, all nine of us kids and my mom. When I couldn't get hold of her, I drove over to her place. I'm sure glad I did. She'd fallen in the shower and broken her hip. She'd been there for two days!"
"Perhaps I'd better make a few phone calls today," she mused. She didn't think there was anything wrong in her family, but it was better to be safe than sorry. James's next words made her wonder if he could read minds as well as being the world's greatest assistant.
"Won't do you any harm and it'll make your mind rest easy." He tapped his temple and grinned.
"Thanks. Maybe I'll sleep a little better tonight after I talk to everyone. Thanks for the advice. I don't know what I'd do without you." She patted him on the arm. "You'd do just fine," he said with a smile. At the door to his
office, he paused for a second to add. "Take care, okay?" "Sure, and thanks." Although she still had several more hours of work to do, Serena couldn't concentrate, so she kept on walking. Then, as she passed her office, a voice hailed her. "Miss O'Toole." Serena turned. "Yes?" The actress looked different than she had a few minutes ago. Her face was more open and the smile she shot at Serena looked sincere.
"I really do need your advice on what to do for Murphy." The actress pulled a notebook and pen out of her enormous purse. "So, I shouldn't let him sleep on the bed. What else do I need to do to be his pack leader?"
Serena tried not to gape at the woman. "Wait a minute, if you really wanted my advice, what was all that attitude a few minutes ago?"
"Oh, heavens dear. I have a reputation to protect. All that drama was just for the cameras."
My goodness, actors were just like dogs, they needed a stern director to keep them in line. "So, can we talk?" Serena pasted on her most pleasant expression. "No, but
you can go to hell; oh, and take your little dog, too." With that she stalked past her office, past the front foyer, and marched into the parking lot. For all she cared, the entire studio could go to hell. Once at home, the feelings of disquiet didn't subside. In fact, her discomfort seemed to grow as she looked at the row of family pictures on the mantle. Serena sank into the comfort of her overstuffed recliner and dialed the phone.
An hour later, her ear felt like cauliflower and she still didn't feel a modicum of comfort. She'd been able to contact three of her four brothers and her mother. They had all been surprised to hear from her, but, despite her careful probing, she could find nothing to worry about. The only one she hadn't been able to reach was her little brother, Mike. She'd left a message on his answering machine but, looking at the clock, decided he should be home by now. Before Serena could dial the phone, the doorbell trilled. Then it chimed again.
The impatient double-ring could only mean one person. Cliff.
She wasn't expecting him, but the sight of him through the peephole still gave her a thrill. Cliff was handsome in a tall, rugged way. From the smudges on his face, he must have come straight from work. He probably still had his tool belt slung around his slim hips. There was nothing sexier than a man with tools---especially the one he kept hidden in his jeans. She relished the sight of him for a moment too long, for he pushed the doorbell yet again.
She hadn't seen him in over a month. Her calls were blocked from his cell phone and she didn't have a clue why. He was the one who had made her cry by teasing her about her job. She'd told him to leave and never come back. But she hadn't expected him to do it. After a week of not hearing from him, she'd tried calling to no avail. Now she was left to wonder what she should have done to make the relationship work. Well, she had an inkling. They should have had a relationship in the first place. Instead, all they had was sex.
Well, once Cliff watched a game on her big screen television. But, they'd never even had dinner together. Granted, it was her fault they didn't have a relationship. She didn't have the time or inclination to get to know a man on any other level but sating their mutual physical needs.
Her excuse was her four brothers. As the only girl, she'd endured a childhood of teasing and tormenting. Why in the world would she want to put herself through the same misery as an adult?
And now here he was on her doorstep like nothing had changed.
She opened the door and fixed him with a long look. Although she wanted to be angry, she couldn't summon the energy to pick a fight. Instead, she closed and locked the door before letting him draw her into his arms.
"Hey baby. What took you so long?" Cliff ran his finger down her nose to her chin to her chest, where he started unbuttoning her blouse. "I was making some phone calls." She slapped his hands
away from her shirt. "Please don't." "What?" Cliff grinned. "Don't tell me you still haven't
forgiven me for calling you Buffy, the doggy trainer." "It's not that." Serena turned away, not wanting him to see
the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "I'm sorry." Cliff's voice was soft and sincere. "So, where have you been?" "Around. I figured I needed to give you time to miss me. Did you?" Cliff's voice took on a wheedling tone and despite Serena's best intentions to resist his charms, she found herself smiling up into his blue eyes. "That's more like it. I love your smile." "I should make you beg for my forgiveness." "I'd like to beg for something else." "Now that can be arranged," Serena teased. "Good, 'cause my tool is charged up and ready to go." Cliff
pulled her into his arms and she lost herself in his kiss. She didn't resist when he pulled her toward the bedroom. But, for whatever reason, she just couldn't get into the sex. And she did try. Lying on the bed, watching him undress was usually enough to get her engines revving. Broad shouldered, his torso tapered down through a series of tight, well-defined abs to a narrow waist and hips. His cock was gorgeous, wide and long, and he definitely knew what to do with it. Any other time, she'd be anxious to get her hands and mouth on him. What in the world was wrong with her today? First she blew the audition. If she didn't watch it, she was going to spoil sex, too.
Well, not if she could help it. When Cliff knelt over her, resting his cock against her bottom lip, she smiled up at him and then licked the shiny drop of pre-cum from the tip. He pushed against her closed lips. No, it wasn't going to be that easy. She was going to make him work for it. She licked him a little while she foraged blindly in her nightstand drawer for the bottle of flavored oil. She knew he didn't care for chocolate, but if they were going to do this, she wanted a bit of a reward. His sac tightened against him as she spread the oil. Then she licked and sucked the oil off his balls, taking each one into her mouth. He pushed his cock against her lips, but she still didn't open
for him. "Do you need something more, baby?" he asked. "Eat me," she demanded. Serena sighed. It felt good as he licked down her stomach. She spread her legs and arched up as his tongue delved deep into her folds. She threw back her head and tried to immerse herself in the pleasure. Usually, just the rasp of his tongue over her clit was enough to send her right to the edge. But today, it just wasn't enough.
As he deepened the thrusts of his tongue and used his thumb to tease her clit, she moaned. She rocked her hips, hoping that the simulation of intercourse would jump start her juices and get her revving a little. To no avail. Oh, it felt good, just not good enough. Perhaps his hands and mouth were doing all the right things, and it was her body not cooperating? Or was it her mind?
Cliff was moaning and writhing as he licked her pussy, but she suspected it was all just an act. Then, bits and pieces of the stupid network audition started whirling around in her head and she had to concentrate to keep from giggling over the remembrance of that damn woman being sprayed down with antibacterial spray.
"You know, I'm really not into this." Serena pushed at Cliff's head and interrupted his assault on her clitoris with this tongue.
"Well, we'll just get the show on the road then." Cliff slid a condom on, then crawled up her body and paused, looking down at his erection. What is he doing, admiring himself?
With a grunt, he entered her. Serena suppressed a grimace. She was glad he'd left a little spit behind, for she was bone dry. After a few thrusts, her body began to respond, slicking his penis with her juices while he drove into her with increasing urgency. Staring up at the ceiling, she tried to conjure up some enthusiasm. "Oh, baby!" Cliff yelled. Finally. If he had been a woman, she would have suspected that his orgasm was fake, but she could feel his cock pulsing inside her. As for her, she wasn't even going to try to fake it. Let him wonder. With that thought, she felt guilty. Cliff was a nice guy despite his month-long absence, and lord knows he was a thorough and enthusiastic lover. But was this all she wanted? All she needed? Wasn't there more to a relationship than just sex?
Cliff rolled off her and began getting dressed. When the phone rang, she watched a surprising play of emotions chase across Cliff's handsome face. She answered it and then frowned. She could hear background noises but no voice.
"Hello? Hello? Is there someone there? If not, I'm hanging up now."
Cliff was looking at her with a panicked expression. He'd finished dressing and picked up his tool belt. Leaning over, he murmured in the ear she didn't have pressed against the receiver, "If that's someone for me, I'm not here."
"Someone for you?" Exasperation made her voice sharp. "Why would someone be calling here for you?" "Well, you know how it is?" Cliff shrugged. "No, I don't know how it is. Cliff, what are you saying?" Serena stared at Cliff with a dawning realization of what he was implying. "Oh my God! You're married." Cliff backed up, his hands held out in an exaggerated shrug. "Hello?" A male voice rumbled in her ear. She barely heard the soothing baritone voice as her thoughts
tumbled around this new development. "Get out!" she shrieked at Cliff. "Honey," he began. "I can explain." "Explain?" Why did men always feel there was a legitimate excuse for cheating? "No, you just get the hell out!" She dropped the phone receiver and dived across the bed toward the lamp. He'd better get moving and fast.
Cliff must have seen danger in her eyes. He didn't stick around to explain, but fled out the front door, slamming it behind him.
Serena watched Cliff leave the bedroom. How could men be such shits? She had been so careful this time, she had checked for a ring before she even invited him back to her place. When she'd called his home number, the one and only time she'd called his house, an electronic voice had picked up on the answering machine. Not that everyone had a wife or a family who recorded cute little answering machine messages, but still... How can this be happening again? Suddenly, she could hear someone speaking. If Cliff had come back... However, listening closely, she realized the voice resonated from somewhere around her left thigh. Shit, she'd forgotten about the man on the phone. Amazed the man hadn't hung up, she snatched the receiver. "Hello," she snarled. "I'm trying to reach Serena O'Toole." "Speaking." Ms. O'Toole, my name is Jackson Hardy; Sheriff Jackson
Hardy. I'm with the Ridgecrest County Sheriff's Department." "If you're soliciting, I'm not interested." Serena felt a
stabbing pain in her chest and her eyes filled up with tears. "No, I'm calling about your brother, Michael O'Toole. We found your name in his office listed as the person to contact in case of an emergency."
Oh, no. After the awful day she'd just had, now something had happened to Mike. Surely the police only called if there had been a serious accident, or if he were--- No, she wasn't going to finish that thought. Mike wasn't dead. He couldn't be. She snatched a tissue and blotted at her eyes, determined not to let any tears fall. Especially not for some cheating jerk. "Are you still there?" It took her a second to find her voice. "Yes, I'm still here. Is
Mike dead?" "No, I'm sorry if it sounded like that. Your brother was reported missing this morning by a neighbor. It seems his dog has been making a nuisance out of himself, knocking over trashcans and raiding a pig trough. The neighbor was concerned enough to go over to Mike's to warn him about how dangerous that can be. Hell, you'd think the dog would be smarter than to get between a pig and its dinner." The man chuckled.
Serena didn't see the humor in the situation. What was this man trying to tell her? Why was he trying to be funny at a time like this? She wanted to scream, shout, and throw things. Instead, she sat stone-faced, steeling herself for the bad news. "I'm sorry, so why are you calling me? Shouldn't you be taking this up with Mike?"
"Well, it seems the dog was starving. When the neighbor went to the house and found it open, it was obvious Mike hadn't been around for a while. I started asking questions, and no one had seen your brother for weeks. The mailbox contained several weeks' worth of mail. Now, we might think a man had just gone on vacation, but the car is in the garage although it doesn't run. Right now, we've got a search and rescue team out looking for him."
"Looking for his body, you mean?" Serena glanced over to her nightstand where several of her brother's books were piled, waiting to be read. From the back cover, Mike stared at her with a serious and menacing expression.
"Now that's the odd thing about the situation. Once we started looking, we found him right away. But he ran from the search team, and hid further out in the desert. So, we thought we'd change tactics and get someone familiar out into the field and convince him to turn himself in."
"Turn himself in? Wait a minute, what's he done wrong? Are you trying to arrest him? That almost sounds like he's under arrest." A cold finger of doubt ran up her spine. None of the O'Toole children had ever been in trouble, and Mike was the least likely to cross the law.
"No, but he may be sick with a rather nasty virus present in the desert around these parts. We want to make sure he doesn't try to hitchhike out and infect anyone."
"Oh, I see. Well, I can be there in about five hours." Grabbing tissues from the box on her nightstand, Serena swiped at her nose, resisting the urge to sniffle.
"There's no hurry to get here today," the sheriff said in a slow monotone. "Tomorrow is soon enough."
"My brother is hiding out somewhere in the desert and you want to risk his safety by letting him stay out there one more night?"
"Well, no, but it's a long drive down here and finding Eclipse is rather tricky. The last thing we need is for another city slicker to get lost at night. Besides, you sound a little too upset to drive."
A red hot wave of embarrassment consumed her face and seemed to burn all the way to her toes. She tried to think back to how much of the conversation between her and Cliff happened after she answered the phone. What had the man heard? "Oh, I'm okay." The sheriff cleared his throat. "If you say so, ma'am." The
words were polite but the voice was edged with sarcasm. It was a toss-up, Should she stay on the phone and argue with this red-necked sheriff or get her butt in gear and pack a bag?
"Anyway, grab a pen and I'll give you the directions to get here." The sheriff's voice sounded a bit muffled and Serena could hear papers shuffling in the background. "Oh, and when you do come into town, do me a favor and come by the station and check in with me. I'd hate for one of the neighbors to think you were trespassing, you could end up shot."
"I wouldn't be pleased about that, either." Serena settled herself with a notebook and a pen. "I'm ready for the directions."
She wrote them down. The first part of the journey seemed straightforward. Then, as he began describing the twists and turns she'd have to take when she left the freeway for Eclipse, it looked daunting. She knew to try to find little dirt roads in the dark would be foolish. But, she was too proud to admit the man was right.
"So," the sheriff's voice continued, "what I would do is get a good night's sleep tonight and then drive down in the morning. We can hook up aroundnoon. Sound like a plan?"
It was a good suggestion, but Serena didn't plan on taking it. No, she'd drive down to Bakersfield and stay there for the night. Then drive into Eclipse first thing in the morning. "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow."
Serena hung up the phone and then threw jeans, sweatshirts, and one nice outfit into her overnight bag. She didn't have a clue how long this search would last, nor what she would find when she got there. Her hand hovered over the little black dress hanging in her closet. Would taking it mean she was resigned to finding Mike dead and having to attend his funeral? In the end, she left the dress hanging in her closet. Instead, she packed a luscious red silk skimpy number. If omens worked for the bad, perhaps having a dress to celebrate Mike's return would bring luck. Should she call Mom? In her mind, she could already picture her mother's overreaction. They didn't call their mother the Queen of Fuss for nothing. No, it'd be best to wait until she got to Eclipse and found out what was going on before worrying the family.
The car was loaded. She didn't have any pets to feed or plants to water. There was only the matter of notifying work of her absence. Cringing at the thought of speaking to Mr. Kyle, Serena decided to call James instead. He'd notify the boss for her. She was glad when James's voice mail picked up and she left a short message. She didn't feel up to dealing with anyone right now.
She wasn't familiar enough with Bakersfield to know what hotel to stay in. That's what computers were for. While she waited for the computer to boot, she read over the directions. Confusing was an understatement. Surely she could find a better route to Eclipse on the internet.
She typed in Eclipse, California, as the destination on a popular mapping website, entered her home address as the starting point, and hit the enter key. Error. What? Perhaps the site was down. She logged into a
different website and tried again. Error. This was getting ridiculous. She pulled up a search engine and tried again. After paging through hit after hit for automobiles, naturally occurring phenomena and song lyrics, she found one small mention of the town.
Eclipse was founded as a settlement---what an odd way to refer to a town---three years ago. The population was listed as forty, which had to be a misprint. For all the amenities listed in the article, it had to be closer to four hundred or even four thousand. There was a grocery store, a drugstore, a car dealership, an auto mechanic, a beauty shop, and six veterinarians. An odd statement at the end of the article caught her attention: For any inquiries regarding Eclipse, please contact the Centers for Disease Control inWashington D.C.
What? The CDC? What would the CDC have to do with a town? Perhaps the state government or the better business bureau. But the CDC? Didn't anyone proof these articles before they posted them for the world?
Deciding the directions the sheriff had given her would just have to do, she tucked the paper in her purse.
So, she'd needed to get to Bakersfield tonight. She'd driven that route many times, but had never noticed what hotels were along the interstate. Calling up the search engine again, she found a hotel along Highway 58 and booked a reservation. Then, she made a mental note to say a prayer for Mike's safety, and for herself, so she didn't get lost.
The phone had been ringing nonstop since the woman's car pulled onto County Highway E an hour ago. Sheriff Jackson Hardy ran a hand over his face. What had he gotten himself into? Perhaps it had been a mistake to summon the woman to Eclipse.
A mistake, maybe, but what else was he supposed to do? When old man Hyett died, his lands were supposed to be absorbed. What a sneaky old bastard! He wrote up a will deeding the farm to his distant cousin and favorite horror author, Michael O'Toole. No one was too worried---at first. O'Toole was a successful author living the high life in L.A. He wouldn't be tempted to move out to the middle of friggin' nowhere just because he'd inherited some land. Imagine their surprise when the moving truck appeared on the horizon one day.
Everyone in town was anxious. Authors noticed odd things---especially horror authors---as evidenced by their writings. And no one knew how much Mike had learned in the short time he'd lived in Eclipse. There were a few folks more than a little determined to find out. And now see what had happened. O'Toole was missing, hiding out in the hills. If he wasn't found today, he was as good as dead. The land would then pass to O'Toole's next of kin and the horror would be repeated,ad nauseam.
No, getting the woman out here to lure Mike out of hiding was the best option he could think of. Heck, it was the only one they had right now. Jackson snatched the still ringing receiver up. "Hello." "There's a woman coming into town," Ben Rawling's voice
bellowed. "I know. It's the O'Toole woman, the author's sister. I
called her." "You did what?" Jackson could clearly picture Ben staring with disbelief at the phone receiver. Ben wasn't used to anyone making independent decisions, but this was one Jackson didn't trust Ben to make.
"Listen, Ben, I don't know what you and your mate were thinking. O'Toole was harmless. He didn't leave the house and, from what I found out, spent most of his day writing. He'd have gone back to L.A." "We couldn't count on it." Jackson sighed and looked out the window. A small black
Volkswagon Beetle was parked out front. "She's here, I have to go." "Damn you." "It's too late now." Jackson's voice dripped with irony. "We're meeting at the courthouse tonight at seven to discuss this situation. You'd better be there." Right before the dial tone, Jackson heard Ben murmur, "Now we have two to get rid of."
He didn't like the sound of that. There would be no "getting rid of," if he could help it. Jackson stretched his neck, trying to relieve some of the tension in his tight muscles. He opened a new file on his computer and began to type. The front door creaked as it opened and a gust of wind blew her scent into the room ahead of her. Soap and shampoo, gardenia perfume and the faintest aroma of sex. It was a heady mixture and arousing as hell. Jackson was glad he was seated behind a desk so she couldn't see his cock straining against the zipper of his trousers.
When he looked up from his two fingered typing, her face came into sharp focus. Oh no! It was her---the woman who hosted a ludicrous dog training show, "Woof." He hated the show, but found himself tuning in each week just to lust after the chestnut-haired beauty as she gave trite advice to idiots with misbehaving dogs. She was hotter than the weather girl on Channel Nine, and that was saying something. Maybe this had been a big mistake. He was going to have a terrible time concentrating on the matter of her missing brother when he couldn't take his eyes off her ripe, full breasts. Luckily, she seemed oblivious to his scrutiny. She wore a blank look on her face and seemed to be staring off into oblivion. She took a deep breath, striving to control the panic she felt building when she walked in the door. Why was her heart hammering in her chest and her palms sweaty when she knew she'd done nothing wrong? She was here to find her brother. No one was going to be asking for her statement or looking at her with cold, appraising eyes. Not like the last time she'd been in a police station.
Even though she hadn't been physically responsible, she'd felt morally responsible for the woman's death. As a result, she'd been scared to death, convinced the officer in charge was going to arrest her after he heard her story. When they told her she could go after signing her statement, she practically ran out the door while vowing never to set foot inside a police station again. But here she was inside and at the mercy of a police officer, again.
To her relief, this station looked quite different from the one in San Francisco. And there was another difference. The scent of fear, both her own and everyone else's, was gone. She felt her shoulders relax and her breathing ease. Finally, she could start to look around. The walls were clean and unblemished by so much as a picture. How could anyone work in such a sterile environment? But, maybe no one did. Looking around, she noticed there wasn't a receptionist. The one person in evidence was a man painstakingly typing at the desk furthest from the door. The office was in pristine shape, it didn't look as if anyone even worked there. The desktops were empty and not even a speck of dust marred the surface of the shiny black file cabinets. There was one similarity to the two diverse police stations: an endlessly ringing phone. The phone on the officer's desk pealed, but he didn't look as if he had any intention of answering it.
The man's lack of concern convinced her she was looking at the sheriff. He was nothing like her mental picture. For one, he was wearing a suit, not a uniform. His hair was not regulation cut. Pitch black and silky smooth, it fell in messy waves to his collar. He was also sporting a two, three, or four-day stubble on the chiseled planes of his face. But, as he shifted in his chair, she noticed the glitter of a badge under his jacket.
The man stood up and held out his hand to shake hers and Serena was struck by his height. Although he was an inch shy of six feet, his posture and physique brought to mind a much larger presence. His smile showed off a chipped front tooth, and his eyes were mesmerizing. She'd expected them to be as black as his hair, but instead they were warm amber with flecks of green and brown.
"I wasn't expecting you until noon." The sheriff tugged down the sleeves of his suit coat. Serena took that opportunity to check his hand for a ring. She wasn't sure why she was so pleased about the absence of one.
"I spent the night in Bakersfield. I've been thinking about what you said about my brother's disappearance. He's been missing how long?" "We think it's been a month as of tomorrow." Serena felt a huge wave of guilt. Why hadn't she missed him before this? "A month! My brother's been missing a month and you aren't worried?"
"Miss, we didn't even know he was missing until a couple of days ago. I organized a search and rescue team immediately. We know he's alive and he doesn't seem in any hurry to be captured." "Captured? Why do you keep talking as if he's a fugitive?" Jackson closed his eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh.
"Force of habit. I guess I can put off my meeting until later." He looked over at the clock on the wall. Serena followed his gaze. She was sure the clock on the Beetle's dashboard had read a few minutes after nine o'clock. But the clock on the wall indicated the time as ten-fifteen. "Is it that late already?" She shook her head. "It can't be. Is your clock fast?" The look Jackson gave her was enigmatic. "No, we're still on daylight savings time." "Why?" Jackson just grunted and began gathering up the papers on
his desk and tucking them into a manila folder. Well, don't answer my question then. She resisted the childish urge to stick her tongue out at him. And taste him. The thought came unbidden along with images of her in his embrace, running her hands through his silky hair and sucking on the sensitive skin at the base of his neck. At the thought, liquid desire pooled between her thighs. She reigned in her imagination with an effort. How on earth could she be thinking about sex when her brother was missing? She guessed she should have put more effort into having an orgasm last night.
"I'll be glad to take you out to where we think your brother is holed up. The meeting will just have to be canceled." Jackson stuck the folder into the top drawer of his desk. As it slid out of her view, Serena could have sworn the folder had her name on it. Too bad she hadn't taken a better look at it when she had a chance.
Still ignoring the ringing phone, Jackson ushered Serena to the door. As they walked out into the sunshine, a sudden passing cloud obscured the light and plunged the street into shadow. Serena shivered and felt the hair on the back of her neck stand to attention. She looked around but didn't see a soul. Very odd. Although it was still early, some of the shops should be open for business, people should be commuting to work, and kids should be heading off to school. Where was everyone? There was nothing to assert that anyone besides the two of them existed in Eclipse. She heard nothing but eerie silence. "Where is everyone?" "Home, working, hanging out." Jackson shrugged. "Not many people live in Eclipse and there's not much to do. I need to stop at home and change out of this monkey suit if we're going out to join up with the rescue team."
Serena motioned across the street. "There's a market there. I need to pick up some bottles of water. I can do that while you go home and change. I'll follow you in my car out to the---"
Jackson shook his head. "No, it'd be better if you stuck with me."
"As though anything would happen in this sleepy little town." Serena laughed. "You act like we're in the middle of New York City or L.A." She cast a wary glance in his direction. "Or are you afraid I'll ditch you and go looking for my brother on my own?" "Maybe," Jackson replied. To Serena's surprise, Jackson grabbed her hand and pulled her close to his side. "We'll take my car." He motioned to a large black truck parked several slots away from her Beetle.
"Really, I'd just be at the market, on my honor." Serena protested, holding up three fingers to signify the Girl Scout's honor. A sudden sound distracted her and she turned. A car approached: a cherry-red 1966 mustang convertible in pristine condition. Serena couldn't help but stare. She'd never seen such a beautiful car. The one Serena's brothers had worked on for years now sat in a puddle of rust in her mother's carport.
"Oh!" she exclaimed and lifted her hand in a small wave. To her chagrin, neither the driver nor the passenger acknowledged they'd even seen Serena and Jackson. They didn't even turn their heads. Even so, Serena got the distinct feeling their eyes had followed every movement she made and gooseflesh danced up her arms. "Who are they?" "Ben Rawlings and his buddy, Tom Owens, our alpha and omega. They work at the auto repair shop." Jackson shot her a questioning glance.
"Alpha and omega? Those are odd terms to use for your neighbors."
Jackson gave a self-deprecating laugh. "That's what everyone calls them. Ben was the first resident of Eclipse and Tom is the newest." "Did they see us?" "Oh, they saw us all right." Jackson unlocked the truck and
opened the passenger door for her. She clambered into the seat. "So, they're just not the wave-at-your-neighbors type." "Yeah, you might say that." Shaking off her unease, she gave Jackson an appraising
look. "And just what type are you, Sheriff Hardy?" Jackson grinned at her over the roof of his car. "That's for
me to know and you not to find out." "Hmmm, sounds like a challenge. Well, I like challenges, Sheriff Hardy."
Jackson just shook his head and grinned. Serena might like challenges, but it was his job to make sure she left Eclipse without having conquered this one. As he drove through town, he shot covert glances at her profile. A sprinkling of freckles across her upturned nose made her look more like a little girl than the sophisticated woman she presented herself as on the show. He wondered why they played her up as such a professional business woman and not how she appeared to be now. Approachable, sexy, and funny. In another time and another place, he wouldn't have hesitated to let her know that he wanted to get to know her better. Lots better. Like intimately naked better.
He wished he had thought ahead and brought a change of clothes to work with him. It felt odd bringing a woman back to his house. Especially when all he could think about was what she'd look like naked in his bed.
Snap out of it big guy . Serena was out of the league of a small town cop with a past and no future. But hell, he could dream, couldn't he. It wasn't as if he'd have the opportunity to do anything more than that.
Jackson resisted the urge to pull the car into the garage. It wasn't as if everyone in town didn't already know she was here, in his car, and now at his house. Nope, better to keep everything aboveboard and visible. Less hassle for him and safer in the long run. But, damn it all, he was so tired of playing it safe.
Playing a good host, Jackson showed Serena into his living room and told her to make herself comfortable. What he'd really like to do was offer her a drink, turn on some romantic music, and taste those luscious lips. But, this wasn't a date.
He could tell that Serena wasn't going to be swayed from her mission to find her brother. He could read determination in her flashing hazel eyes, but what most concerned him was the worry and fatigue he detected in her posture and on her face. Talking to him at the station, she'd run a hand over her neck and stretched her shoulder muscles. She looked like she needed a nap, not a walk in the desert.
Especially knowing the desert heat would only amplify her scent. It would make her damned irresistible, that's what. Since they'd left the office, arousal had been added to her menu of odors. He resisted the urge to lean over and sniff her hair and skin. Oh, how he'd love to bury his face in her crotch and get high on her scent. But if he did, she'd probably be repulsed. He didn't have the skill to manipulate attraction pheromones like an Alpha. And if she didn't turn him down, they'd both be in more trouble than her brother.
Damn, they needed to find him. And the sooner they found her brother, the sooner she would leave and life in Eclipse would get back to normal. Not that anything was normal in Eclipse, but at least he wouldn't be walking around with a hard-on.
He took one last look over his shoulder at Serena. She was watching him, waiting for him to disappear into the bedroom. If Serena was half the woman he thought she was, she'd have a good snoop around while his back was turned. But, rest assured, there wasn't anything out for her to find. He was too careful. They all were. Serena yawned. It would be just too tempting to sit down on the large sectional sofa and sleep. But, she resisted. Decorated in cool southwest colors, little figurines of howling coyotes and cactuses lined up across the fireplace mantle. The most striking fixtures in the living room were the huge speakers occupying each corner of the room. A stack of CDs threatened to topple off a nearby table, and Serena flipped through them. The man had quite a collection, many of them her favorites: Elton John, Evanescence, Madonna, Jim Brickman's piano music. She paused with a Dr. Demento CD in her hand, remembering her brothers listening to the sick, but humorous, song, "Dead Puppies." Hmmmm, my Sheriff Hardy is quite the Renaissance man. My? My man? No, not a chance. "Did you say something?" Jackson asked. She hadn't, and she couldn't reply now, her voice was
caught in her throat. Jackson was bare to the waist. Although she usually didn't find hairy men sexy, she quickly amended her list of likes and dislikes. She wanted to run her hands through those crisp curls and tease his small nipples with her teeth. His faded denim jeans were low slung and unsnapped, his belt hanging open. It was all she could do not to walk over and let her hands follow his treasure trail down to explore the erection pressed against his zipper. Oh my!
The urge to drag him back to the bedroom and wrestle naked with him on the bed caused a flash of desire to ignite low in her belly. It was good to know her frigidity with Cliff yesterday wasn't anything permanent. Then, reality came crashing down on her. She was here for one thing and one thing only---to find her brother.
So, what the hell am I doing thinking about sex at a time like this? Mike was somewhere in the desert, sick and alone...perhaps cold. He should be the one she was concerned about, not a man she'd just met.
Jackson pulled on a shirt and began fastening the buttons. "I'll be ready in a minute. Why don't you grab a couple of bottles of water out of the refrigerator?"
"Sure." Serena touched her fingers to her lips, wondering how his kiss would taste. Had she mistaken the open invitation in his eyes? In another time or another place, she wouldn't have hesitated to find out. But, she had to concentrate on finding Mike. A sudden rush of emotion had her blinking back tears. Oh, Mikey, what have you gotten yourself into?
Pursued day and night, the wolves set upon him the third evening as the moon rose, large and glowing, over the Joshua trees. He figured he was a dead man until a shotgun blast startled the wolves. They gathered together, casting venomous looks at him. Another shotgun blast scattered them into the shadows. He huddled in the dirt, hungry and dehydrated, knowing that if the wolves came back, he was too weak to survive another attack. Out of the darkness, the voice of God spoke. He could only focus on one word, used repeatedly in the lengthy exposition. Werewolves. Funny, he thought, there's no such thing as a werewolf, everyone knows that. My Werewolf Lover by Michael O'Toole
Serena drove down the rutted washboard dirt road, feeling like her teeth were going to shake right out of her head. She had convinced Jackson that her little Beetle could manage the dirt road, but now she wasn't so sure. It shook and rattled like an antique while the big four wheel-drive truck bounced ahead of her, stirring up dust and obscuring landmarks.
Without warning, it swung off to the left and pulled up in front of a large Victorian mansion. What was this house doing smack dab in the middle of the desert? Serena looked around her in disbelief. A white picket fence enclosed a lush, green lawn surrounded the house, and a red barn painted with a large hex symbol sat around back. As she listened, she could hear chickens clucking.
So this was Moonstone Manor. Mike had written her when he'd inherited the land and a house from their cousin, but they had both laughed, not thinking it would be worth much. It was in the middle of nowhere, for goodness sakes. While she looked around her, she tried not to feel pissy. All she'd inherited was a thousand dollars and a lousy moonstone necklace. Jackson had paused on the front steps, looking back at her with an inscrutable expression. "Are you ready to go inside?"
"This is unbelievable. How did this house get here?" If Jackson had told her aliens had deposited it here at the light of the new moon, she probably would have believed him.
"Some mad hatter shipped it here from back East." He shrugged. "To each his own."
The smell assaulted her even before she went inside. Dog pee, gallons of it if the smell was any indication. It made her eyes water.
"I thought you said the house was open and Mike's dog had gotten out." Serena put her hand over her nose and pulled a face. Breathing through her mouth only enhanced the smell, so she tried not breathing at all for as long as she could.
"Oh, this wasn't from his dog. A pack of wild dogs got into the house."
"Where's the smell coming from?" Serena looked around. They were standing in what was once the front parlor or receiving room. It was like looking at a room time had passed by. It was furnished with claw foot settees, Chippendale tables and chairs, and there were even old daguerreotype photos on the mantle. "The damage was limited to the study." Now that was interesting behavior for wild dogs. Serena followed Jackson, admiring the way his jeans hugged the taut muscles of his butt. She was so engrossed with the view that she almost ran into him when he stopped. The smell was overpowering and Serena stifled her gag reflex. However, urine hadn't been the only weapon used to assault the room. The desk and hardwood floors bore deep scratch marks, the woven throw rug was soggy, chairs lay in pieces on the floor, and there were torn and tattered papers strewn everywhere.
Serena bent down and picked one up. The header across the top of the page identified it. My Demon Lover. It was the book Mike had been struggling with for three years as he fought with a paralyzing case of writer's block. He had been hoping to finally lay it to rest in the quiet and solitude of the desert. Now it was scattered all over the floor.
"We couldn't find his laptop, so if this was his only copy..." Jackson trailed off when Serena started shaking her head.
"Oh, this wouldn't be his only copy. Not only would it be stored on the computer, but backed up to disk and probably emailedoff-site just in case his hard drive crashed." Serena's eyes watered. "Cat pee smells worse, but I can't take much more of this." She turned to go when a low growl stopped her in her tracks.
A skinny yellow Labrador retriever stood between her and the door. The dog's teeth were bared and the hackles stood high on his back. He growled low in his throat, his eyes fastened on Jackson.
"Tucker," Serena admonished. She'd only seen Tucker once before when he was a knock-kneed puppy. The dog glanced over at her and his tail switched in a small wag, but then his attention focused back ontoJackson.
"If it's any consolation, I don't like dogs, either." Jackson's voice was light, almost humorous, but she could sense his underlying fear of the dog. "Tucker, go home," Serena commanded. Jackson spoke out of the side of his mouth, "I thought he
was home." "He'll have a kennel somewhere in the house, probably in
Mike's room." "You know, we've been trying to catch this mutt for the last few days, but he's as wily as his owner. I can't believe he just came up to you."
"Odd, he seems like a pretty friendly dog, I don't know why he wouldn't respond. Did no one set out any food for him?" Jackson shrugged. "Not that I know of." "Oh well, I'll take care of him now. Come, Tucker." Serena confidently stepped up to the dog. She clapped to make sure she had the dog's attention. "Come, let's go home."
Casting one last look over his shoulder and emitting a low growl, Tucker meekly followed Serena out of the study.
Once in the hallway, Tucker pushed past Serena and led the way to a door at the end of the hallway. Inside the room, his wire kennel sat next to the bed. Nearby sat an empty food bowl and a bowl filled with scummy water.
Serena quickly filled Tucker's bowl with food and wiped out the water bowl before filling it. "If you could talk, you'd tell me where Mike is." She fondled the dog's ears. It was tempting to take the dog with her to the search area, but the dog looked hungry and tired. "You rest. If we don't find Mike this time out, you and I will go have a look around together. Sound good, old boy?" The dog's tail thumped in reply. Serena carefully latched the kennel door. Her sturdy leather shoes would do for hiking, but she'd forgotten a hat. Dozens of baseball hats hung from pegs on the closet door. Serena selected one and perched it on her head. It wasn't hunter's orange, but the blue and yellow Wolverine's hat would make her easy to spot in the desert.
Jackson was sitting on the front porch waiting for her and they hiked out into the desert in companionable silence. It was easy to spot the search and rescue team by the large black Hummer parked in the shade of a boulder. The team was just packing up for lunch.
"Any news?" Jackson asked the team leader, a tall man who looked every inch a desert rat, from his floppy hat to his bushy mustache and worn out hiking boots.
"He's on the move. We've identified several areas where he's camped for a night or two, then moved on. It's almost as if he doesn't want to be found." The man shook his head. "Of course, he's probably delusional." "Delusional? Are you saying my brother's crazy?" "Oh, no, ma'am." The team leader bowed his head apologetically. "But being out here for weeks with little food and water can play tricks on a man's mind. There's also a fungus in the soil out here that causes Valley Fever. If he's caught that..." The man shook his head. "I suspect he's running from us because he's scared." "Scared of the search team?" "Something made him run out of the house in the middle of the night and take cover in the desert," Jackson said quietly.
"Scared of something," Serena paused, "or someone." A quick glance at Jackson's face confirmed her worse fears; he knew more than he was saying. She turned to the team leader. "Where was the last sign of Mike?"
"Over by that rock. Looks like he slept there last night." The man pointed at the large boulder. "We found an area that he dug out for shelter from the wind. We're hoping that he'll head back here before nightfall."
Serena walked over to the boulder, looking carefully at the ground. Too bad she didn't have the least idea what she was looking for. The boulder was huge. She'd done a little rock climbing at the gym, but it was nothing compared to reality. Gripping its pebbled surface for handholds, she awkwardly pulled herself up, ripping off a fingernail and bruising her shin in the process. Breathless, she was finally perched on top. Balancing precariously, she stood. She could see miles and miles of brown dirt, scrub, Joshua trees, and more brown dirt. It was too much to hope that she'd spot Mike from her vantage point, but she had to try.
"Mike!" She cupped her hand around her mouth and yelled into the wind. Turning carefully, she repeated her yell and scanned in all four directions. Should she climb down or keep looking? She called again and this time, she thought she saw something move over to her left? She shouted again, watching closely.Damn, there is something there.
She sat down and scrambled to slide down the boulder. Red-faced, she landed with an embarrassing thud on her butt. Hoping that no one had noticed her ungainly descent from the rock, she stumbled to her feet, and took off at a fast walk in the direction of the movement.
"Hey, what did you see?" Jackson's long legs gave him an advantage and he caught up to her quickly.
"Something moved over here when I called Mike's name." Scanning the area, Serena kept moving. Then, she caught a glimpse of flesh and began to run.
"Damnation woman, it could be anything. A coyote, a jackrabbit, or---" Jackson's voice broke off when she knelt down beside Michael lying half under a tumbleweed. "I'll call for an ambulance." Jackson pulled out his cell
phone. "Hey sis." Mike's voice was weak. How had he managed to survive for weeks with his injuries? Angry red cuts, abrasions covered his arms and face and he had large open dog bites on his neck and shoulder. She pulled out a bottle of water and tipped some into Mike's mouth. Most of the water ran back out of his mouth, so she tipped a small amount in, and then waited until he painfully swallowed before giving him more. "What happened?" "It's all a little fuzzy." Mike shook his head. "I've just kept
one step ahead of them." "The search and rescue team has been looking for you, honey. They wanted to help you and you just kept running away."
Mike kept shaking his head. Dropping his voice to a hoarse whisper, he said, "It was them." "Them who?" Serena asked. Mike fell silent, staring at her in horror. When she tried to move closer to him, he cringed and tried to crawl away from her, making hoarse panicked sounds. Blinking back tears, Serena let her hand drop.
Jackson shook his head. Unbelievable. The search and rescue team had been out here for two days looking for Mike. And his sister found him in less than twenty minutes. Well, if anyone gave him any flak about calling her in, this was his vindication.
"They'll take good care of him at the hospital. I'm having him taken to the trauma center in Fresno." Jackson laid his hand on Serena's shoulder. She was shaking and it took him a second to realize she was crying.
"Fresno? Why so far away." Her voice was full of tears. With a sudden rush of tenderness, Jackson had a sudden longing to take her in his arms, brush away her tears, and comfort her. Ludicrous thoughts, especially with everyone on the search and rescue team converging on them.
He sighed and bit his tongue before answering. "Because that's who is contracted to provide medical coverage." Sounded like a good explanation to him. "Plus, they'll send a helicopter to airlift him out of here. He'll be well taken care of in less than an hour. By road, it'd take over an hour just to get to Bakersfield. The only thing, the chopper is only equipped to take a patient, but if you start now, you could reach the hospital tonight."
"No, I'm not up to driving that far today." Serena ran a hand over her tense neck muscles. "I'm going to stay at the house tonight. I'll clean up the study so Mike doesn't come back and find it like that. One of my other brothers, Daniel, lives in Fresno. I'll call him to check on Mike. If they release him right away, I'll stay here to take care of him. If they plan on keeping him a while, I'll drive up tomorrow."
"You're staying?" Jackson paused, horror chilling his blood. "For tonight, anyway." "So, you'll try to leave tomorrow?" "Probably, unless they are going to release him right away." Serena smiled. "Why are you in a hurry to get rid of me all of a sudden?"
"It's not that, I just figured you had to get back to your job and your life." Jackson replied lightly. Damn it all, she had no idea how badly he wanted her out of town by tomorrow night. The sun hung low in the horizon when the helicopter finally
arrived to pick up Mike. Jackson shaded his eyes from the dust the helicopter blades stirred up. One down, one to go. Now came the hard part, keeping Serena safe and sound until she was out of the city limits. "So, do you want to go shopping?" "Shopping?" "For food, at the market?" Jackson prompted. "You said you weren't leaving until tomorrow sometime, so I'm assuming you'll need some supplies. Plus, you'll need to pick up something for the urine. I think the store carries a cleaner specifically for that." "Oh, sure, but---" "I need to pick up a few things myself, and you'll need some help cleaning, moving furniture and the like," Jackson interrupted with an easy smile. "Oh, but---" Serena started to protest. "I didn't have anything else to do this evening, might as
well help a damsel in distress." Distress was what he saw on Serena's face. But, he was
determined not to let her out of his sight. "Well, if you put it that way. I can't refuse. Thanks for the
offer, I'd appreciate the help." "You're welcome." They walked in silence back to the mansion. He knew it had been hard for Serena to see her brother like that. But she hadn't broken down. She'd sat and listened to him rant and rave about oceans of blood, black widows, demons, and dog attacks. Jackson knew exactly what Mike was going through and wished there had been someone there for him for his first transition. Instead, he'd been locked in a police cell alone, not even able to make the one phone call that was his right.
As they approached the cars, Serena hunted in her pockets for her keys.
"We'll just take the truck and leave your car, since I'm going to be coming back to help clean," Jackson stated as he opened the passenger door. Serena opened her mouth as if to argue, but then closed it and climbed silently into the seat.
Jackson drove slowly back into Eclipse. He couldn't think of any small talk to exchange with Serena and she seemed content with the silence.
How had the situation with Mike happened? There were specific safeguards in place to prevent inadvertent infections. Everyone was supposed to be safely kenneled from sundown to sunup during the full moon. He had been. Why hadn't the others? He thought back. Had the guard been any different, acted any different, from the previous months. He sighed. Damn it. He simply couldn't remember.
Was the guard involved? There had been no questions asked after the attack. And when Jackson had tried to report it, he'd been unable to complete the call. Ben obviously had the entire town under surveillance. So, did the government even know what was going on or had the guard met the same fate originally meant for Mike? Was there a body still to be found in the desert? Jackson shuddered at the possibility. Maybe it was better not to know. That's what he got for being a lone wolf; no one trusted him. But, alone was infinitely better than taking orders from an egotistical maniac.
Jackson looked over at Serena. She had closed her eyes and appeared to be sleeping. She seemed close to her brother and she was smart, too. Would she believe Mike when he told her the official cover story? Not likely since she was on hand to examine his injuries. Most families just got a courtesy letter stating that because of the infectiousness of the disease, their loved one could not return home. But Serena wasn't stupid. No one was wearing bio suits or avoiding contact with Mike. No, he was sure she wasn't going to fall for a tall tale. Then he shrugged. It wasn't his problem. But keeping Serena safe was. She'd only be infected over his dead body. Unfortunately, that wouldn't deter the pack.
The market was larger than Serena had expected. As she pushed the cart up and down the rows of gleaming, metal shelves, she was surprised to see that they held so few items. A few lonely apples, a box of blackberries, and a rusted head of lettuce rattled around in baskets in the produce section.
Then, turning the corner, she entered the junk food aisle. Now, this was more typical of a grocery store back home. Lots of chips, dip, and her all-time favorite---cookies. She snagged a bag of chocolate sandwich cookies off the shelf and hoped she'd be able to scare up a gallon of milk to dip them in.
Luckily, the milk case was full, as was the adjoining meat case. There, chicken parts vied for space with steaks and roasts. She enjoyed a well-cooked steak as much as anyone else, but nothing could beat a well put together antipasto salad. Didn't these folks eat fruits and vegetables?
She picked up a dozen eggs and some cheese. That should get her through.
Pushing the cart up the next aisle, she paused for a minute to ogle Jackson's backside as he bent over to pick up a gallon jug of cleaner. For a few moments this afternoon, she thought he was attracted to her. Silly, but she thought he'd be glad she was staying. Lord knows, he'd been sending out all the right vibes. She sighed. She had really been looking forward to a little sightseeing while she was here---the sheriff's ass looked downright delicious in those jeans. However, it looked like she was going to have to go back home with her curiosity unsatisfied.
She stifled another sigh. No matter when she went home, she definitely wasn't going to see Cliff again. No more married men. The next man she got involved with was going to be totally unattached. Clenching her hands tighter on the handle of the basket, she
glided up besideJackson. He unscrewed the lid and sniffed. The distinct smell of
alcohol wafted out. "I hope that works." Serena leaned over to read the label with a dubious expression. She could feel the heat radiating from Jackson's body and his warm, sweet breath caressed her cheek. She wondered if he realized how close his body was to hers, she had only to turn her head to claim his lips in a kiss---
"Oh. My. Gosh!" a female voice trilled. "You're Serena O'Toole!" Serena and Jackson jumped apart. "I can't believe we have a big television celebrity in our little town," the woman announced loudly to no one. "You're from that wonderful dog training show, 'Woof.' I watch it every week. You are just so in tune with celebrities and their dogs. Heck, makes me want to go out and own one of my own."
Used to the unwanted public attention, Serena plastered a smile on her face. The woman was petite everywhere except her breasts---which had to be a D cup or larger. She had thick silverblond hair, pouty, pink lips, and perfect makeup. This had to be what a man's wet dream goddess looked like. All she needed to do was doff some sexy lingerie and she'd be a perfect centerfold. Then, Serena looked into the woman's gorgeous gray eyes. Shrewd and intelligent, they belied her perky speech. "I'm Jazmin Carmichael, by the way, and your biggest fan." "Nice to meet you," Serena replied as she stole a glance at Jackson. She'd expected him to be looking at Jazmin with his tongue hanging out. Instead, he had a dour look on his face and was pretending to read the instructions on the bottle. Odd. "I'm the Postmistress here in town. Are you just visiting?" "Serena is our resident horror writer's sister," Jackson
mumbled. "Oh, right!" Jazmin exclaimed, a false ring to her voice. As if she didn't know? Serena's eyes narrowed. She suspected the woman knew exactly who she was. So, what was her game?
"It's too bad about your brother." Jazmin patted Serena's arm. "If there is anything I can do to help, you just let me know." "Oh, didn't you hear the helicopter." Jackson looked up and
smiled. "We found him." "You did?" A look passed over Jazmin's features. Serena wasn't sure if it was disappointment or surprise. It was gone so fast that Serena felt sheimagined it. "Yes, he was airlifted out to Fresno." "Oh, well, in that case, I should let you go. I'm sure you're in a hurry to get up there and find out how he is." Jazmin looked pointedly at Serena. "Oh, she's staying until tomorrow," Jackson said. The woman looked stunned, frozen. It was exactly the same look she'd seen on Jackson's face when she told him she was staying over night. Why was everyone so eager to get rid of her?
"Yeah. Some wild dogs got into the house and wrecked the study. Serena's going to clean it up for her brother's return."
"How nice!" Jazmin exclaimed. Her voice held a note of false enthusiasm. "What a great sister you are. Well, if I don't see you before you leave, woof!" Jazmin simpered and giggled. "Who's a great sister?" a deep male voice interrupted. Serena turned to see who was speaking. She glanced at Jackson, his face was perfectly composed, blank almost. She'd sure hate to play poker against him.
"Why, Ben." Jazmin tucked her arm in to the man's and slid in close, pushing her breasts against his torso.
Well, she certainly got the message. Jazmin and this guy were an item. Heavens, standing next to her, Serena felt like a frump and probably looked like one too. Jazmin didn't have a thing to worry about.
Serena took a closer look at Ben. He was good looking, taller than Jackson, and beefier. She'd bet he probably had a sixpack abdomen hidden under the blue and white western shirt he wore tucked into tight blue jeans. Bright blue-green eyes stared into hers. He was definitely a hottie. Then he turned a bit to look down at Jazmin and, with a jolt, Serena recognized him---the man driving the '66 Mustang. She shivered, remembering the creepy feeling she'd received when he drove by earlier.
"This is Serena O'Toole, the missing author's sister," Jazmin cooed. "Not missing any longer, remember?" Jackson replied,
smiling tightly. "I'm glad you finally found him." Ben looked back at Serena and smiled. His eyes were mesmerizing. Despite her misgivings, she suddenly felt warm and hoped she wasn't blushing like a schoolgirl. It was almost as if he had he cast a spell on her.
Ben took Serena's hand although she hadn't offered it to him. His long middle finger slipped between their hands to caress her palm. She felt a tingle, almost a physical shock, and her body responded with a rush of desire.
Ben smiled a huge wolfish grin, just shy of a leer. She had to admit, he was gorgeous and everything she used to look for in a man: thick dark wavy hair, well-toned arms, and muscled thighs molded by his tight jeans. But, she reminded herself, he belonged to someone else.
Jazmin was staring at her and if looks could kill, Serena would have dropped down dead on the spot.
"We have plans tonight." Ben's gaze captured Serena's and she found that she couldn't look away. "But we'd love to have you over for dinner tomorrow night." "Serena's leaving tomorrow," Jazmin said overloud. "Oh, that's too bad." Ben's eyes looked puppy-dog sad and just for a second, Serena debated changing her plans. She'd love to have dinner with Ben, heck, she'd love to have Ben for dinner...and dessert!
"We, um, we've got a lot of cleaning to do." Jackson stammered a bit, but his voice broke the spell Ben seemed to have cast over Serena.
"Well, don't forget we have a meeting tonight," Ben snapped out, never taking his gaze from Serena.
"I'll be there." Jackson's voice sounded hollow, subservient.
"Come on, dear. We need to get home. We have some things to discuss before the meeting tonight," Jazmin said.
Serena had a sneaking suspicion that she would be the prime topic of that little chat.
Jazmin pulled on Ben's arm. With a look of regret, he released Serena's gaze. "It was nice meeting you, Serena O'Toole. I'm sure we'll see you again before you leave."
His voice made her feel tingly all over, and her nipples puckered. She could feel them rubbing seductively against the lace of her bra. She hoped no one would notice. But Ben did. His eyes dipped down to her cleavage and---oh my god---he licked his lips. She shifted uncomfortably and crossed her arms over her chest. To her relief, Ben let Jazmin lead him away.
At the checkout counter, Jazmin cast a murderous look over her shoulder. Serena had definitely not made a friend there.
Serena and Jackson finished their shopping in uncomfortable silence. Jackson didn't say anything until they were getting in the truck. "If you didn't realize it, Jazmin and Ben are a couple."
"As if I couldn't tell," Serena said. Then, seeing Jackson's dubious expression, she added, "Hey, he was hitting on me. I don't poach other women's men."
"Oh, I believe you." Jackson looked at her through narrowed lids. "But he comes on strong and..." Jackson paused as if searching for the right word. "And he's very persuasive. Not many women say no."
"So, he's a womanizer. The worst kind of man." Serena shrugged. "I can assure you, I'd say no." Serena quelled her feelings of doubt. She would say no. She really would.
There had only been one time that she'd knowingly not said no, and see what had happened. People had ended up dead.
Even after five years she was plagued with guilt. Mark Thomas had spent all evening hitting on her. She'd seen the wedding ring. But she ignored it since she was looking for a one night stand. She had been a twenty-two year-old virgin and she wanted to find out what she was missing. All her friends egged her on. She knew that Mark went home with a different co-ed every weekend and she wouldn't be his first affair. She would, however, be the last. Mark's wife, Rebecca, had seen to that. When he'd walked in the door of their house the next morning, Rebecca shot Mark five times and then put the sixth bullet in her ownbrain.
Well, never again. If she even had the inkling of a suspicion that a man was married or dating someone, she promptly sent him packing. So, how had Cliff slipped through?
Was it because he lied better than the others or because she just didn't ask the right questions? She supposed it was the latter. She'd met him in the coffee shop one day after lunch. She'd stumbled and spilled coffee on him. Luckily, it had been an iced caramel coffee and not something hot. But the way his cock had hardened when she helped to wipe him down with napkins spoke volumes. She'd invited him back to her place to wash his clothes. She'd washed his clothes all right, and a whole lot more.
Well, Ben could just turn on the charm but no matter what signals her body sent out, she'd say no.
"If he's such a womanizer, why does Jazmin put up with it?" she accidentally asked the question aloud.
"Guess she feels that she doesn't have any alternative. If she wants to keep her, um, relationship with Ben, she has to take the good with the bad."
"That's asinine. She's gorgeous. There have to be other single men in this town. You..." Serena trailed off. "Or Mike?" One glance at Jackson's face was all she needed to confirm her worst thoughts. "Does this have something to do with my brother's disappearance?" "I suspect so." "Then do something about it! You're the sheriff. Isn't that
your job?" "There is no proof or witnesses. Until your brother tells me what happened, I can't do a darn thing. I kept him safe and got him out of here. What more do you want?"
Jackson pulled the truck into the drive in front of the mansion and skidded to a stop. "I want you." The words came out of nowhere. She wasn't even sure she'd said them until she saw the look of raw need on Jackson's face. With one move, he pulled her over the middle console and onto his lap, his lips capturing hers in a rough kiss. His tongue stabbed into her mouth and when she caressed his tongue with hers, he groaned. Then, he broke off the kiss, his eyes wide with unspoken emotion. Interesting. Serena touched her fingers to her swollen lips and looked into his eyes. Moments ago they had been a warm shade of amber, now they were nearly black. Mesmerized by the primitive and wild look in their depths, she put her hand on the back of his neck, leaned in, and kissed him back. She ran her tongue across the seam of his lips and he moaned and opened to her, letting her tongue tangle with his in a carnal dance. In the back of his mind, he knew this was trouble. The rules were clear, only the alpha members of the pack were permitted to mate. But he had never been one to run with the pack, why would he start now?
Breathing deep of her scent, he ran his hands over her back, sides, and then up to cup her breasts. Her head fell back, exposing the length her throat. He wanted to taste her. As he kissed and sucked on the tender skin at the base of her neck, he could feel her pulse throbbing wildly.
He brushed his fingers across the neckline of her shirt and felt her tremble. As he unbuttoned her blouse, his mouth followed the path of creamy white skin laid bare by his hands. He pushed her shirt open. Her lacy white bra was filled to mouthwatering perfection. Her nipples strained against the lace as he ran his thumbs over their hardened peaks. She arched against him. With a flick, he opened the front clasp of her bra and savored the sound of her indrawn breath as her breasts spilled out into his hands. Would just touching her be enough? His cock jerked. He wanted her sweetness, all of it. He lowered his head and tasted her, sucking gently on her nipple as she writhed in his arms.
Then, the hair on the back of his neck stood to attention. They weren't alone. Jackson pulled back, his breath hissing between his teeth. He'd wanted this so badly, wanted her naked body covering his while he spent passion that had been packed away for almost a year. With a sigh of regret, he opened his door and slid out from under Serena's weight. Leaving her sitting in the driver's seat, he slammed the door shut.
Her eyes were wide with questions, questions that he wanted to answer but couldn't.
No, it was better to stop now, before he got in any further. For once he'd taken her, melded his flesh in hers, he wasn't sure he could keep her safe any longer. And after spending the day with her, seeing her at her best and her worst, he suspected he was more than half in love with her. Or at least in a big case of lust. All he knew is that he wanted to take her for his mate, but knew he shouldn't. Unlike Ben, he'd want her willingly. No force. That wasn't his style.
But, it was never going to happen. For one, she'd never believe him. Hell, if he wasn't trapped in this nightmarish existence, he wouldn't believe it, either. But, if by some miracle she did believe him, she'd be running for the interstate before he could unzip his pants. No, it was better to stop now before they crossed the point of no return. Why did he stop? She took a deep breath. What the hell had happened? One minute, Jackson was all over her; the next minute he was gone. With shaking hands, she pulled her clothes back into some semblance of order.
She slid out of the truck and grabbed a bag of groceries out of the back. Jackson was out of sight, already having entered the house. She composed herself. Perhaps the best course of action was to pretend nothing had happened.
She walked slowly up the front steps. Just as she got to the door, she thought she heard the rumble of Jackson's voice. "Did you say something?" she called out. "I won't do anything stupid." Jackson snapped his cell phone shut and looked up at Serena. "Sorry, some business I had to take care of."
Serena's heart plummeted. His demeanor spoke volumes. There was another woman. Shit. She'd been so stupid. She thought back to Jackson's house. It was awfully neat for a bachelor pad. Had there been a woman's touch there? She sighed. "There should be some mops and sponges in that hall closet." Jackson pointed.
Serena opened the closet and found it full of cleaning supplies. How had he known? She grabbed what she thought she'd need and went back to the study.
He was on his hands and knees, gathering up the scattered remains of Mike's novel. Serena leaned against the doorframe, enjoying the view of his ass.
"Please tell me, is there a Mrs. Jackson Hardy, fiancée or girlfriend that I should know about?"
"What?" Jackson looked up at her, irritation clearly written on his face. "No, that call was work. If I was married or dating someone, I'd be with her, not you." His voice was even, and although she wasn't all that good at reading body language, she didn't detect any sign that he was lying. "Good," Serena said simply. There was hope for her yet.
Copious applications of the cleaner left the rooms smelling like rubbing alcohol. But anything was better than the acrid stench of urine.
Serena collected all the loose pages of the novel from the top of the desk and began putting them in numerical order. She resisted the urge to read as she sorted, for once she started, she'd want to curl up in a chair and read it from beginning to end.
Although the desk could be salvaged, the chairs and curtains were a total loss. What a waste. She even debated asking Jackson to help her pull up the carpeting because she had doubts about the cleaner's potency. But, it was her brother's house. If he wanted the carpeting pulled up, he could do it himself.
She was tired. Too much driving, hiking, and worrying had taken its toll on her. She sighed and arched her back, belatedly remembering the dog. He probably needed a good stretch too. "I'll let Tucker out of his kennel for a bit. Take him out to do his business."
Jackson stiffened at the mention of the dog. "I'll stay out of the way and fix us something to eat." "So, you don't like dogs?" she asked casually. "I used to." Jackson had put his poker face back on, the same one he'd used in the store with Ben. Perhaps he'd been bitten by a dog. Although Serena would have loved to ask more questions, she could see by his posture that he wouldn't welcome any prying so she dropped the subject.
Leaving Jackson to forage through the groceries, Serena explored the rest of the house. Mike's bedroom was on the first floor, a large suite with an attached bath. She'd hate to have to stay in Mike's room tonight and there was no way she was going to sleep on any of the uncomfortable looking antique chaise lounges. She sure hoped the upstairs rooms weren't empty.
Trudging up the stairs, she found a hallway of closed doors. Serena opened the first one and peeked in. Empty. Damn. She opened and closed them one after the other. All empty.
Then she noticed that the room at the end of the hallway was different. The door was an odd color. As Serena approached it, she realized the door was inlaid with silver. Badly tarnished, she could barely make out the design etched on its surface. A wolf's head? And the eyes! They shone. She touched one of them with the tip of her finger. They were stone. In better light, she'd definitely be able to identify them. But, she hazarded a guess that they were moonstones, like the one in her necklace. She pulled her sleeve over her hand and scrubbed at the silver. With a bit of polish, this door would be gorgeous. But why have a silver door?
Opening the door, she expected to find an empty room. Instead, she was pleasantly surprised to find this room furnished and decorated.
Dominating the room was a picture window with a breathtaking view of the desert. There was a king size oak bedstead, dresser, and wardrobe. At the foot of the bed was a chest. Serena hefted the lid and found sheets and quilts.
She ran her finger along the headboard of the bed. Like the door, it was with etched silver. Matching silver adorned the drawers of the dresser and wardrobe. The room looked as if it had been built separately from the rest of the house. It was the width of the entire house and seemed to have been built around a staircase, for the back wall jutted into the room, leaving an alcove on either side. One was enclosed with large ornate wood and silver screens. Serena moved one of the screens aside and found an old-fashioned claw-foot tub, a small sink, and a tiny walled off area that enclosed the toilet. On the other side of the room, the other alcove held a leather recliner, an oak desk and chair, and a flat screen panel television hung on the wall.
Why had Mike picked the downstairs room instead of this one to occupy? Well, this is where she was going to stay for tonight, anyway. After dinner, she'd carry her bag up and get settled in. But right now, she needed to tend to Tucker. He was probably sitting with his legs crossed, anxiously waiting to pee.
It was almost dark when she made her way down the stairs to Mike's room. Tucker was sitting in his kennel. His warm brown eyes looked up at her when she entered and his tail thumped the floor. Although he seemed pleased to see her, he didn't have any inclination to leave the kennel. She had to coax him to accompany heroutside to do his business.
Outside, the sun had set and the dark sky was huge, filled with sparkling stars. Low on the horizon hung the only constellation she knew: the three stars of Orion's Belt. If she lived here, she'd have to buy a telescope. She could almost picture herself out here on a warm summer night exploring the heavens. But right now, she had to let Tucker back into the house before he scratched all the paint off the back door.
Once inside, Tucker scurried back to his kennel and collapsed with a contented sigh. He must really be missing Mike. "He'll be home soon, old boy. Maybe tomorrow."
Leaving a night light burning in the room, she followed her nose back to the kitchen.Jackson stood over the stove. While she watched, he flipped something over in the pan, the movement smooth and practiced.
He looked over his shoulder and smiled, a small dimple winking in his left cheek. "Hope you like chicken and cheese quesadillas." "My favorite." Without hesitation, Jackson walked over to a cabinet and pulled out plates. Back at the stove, he deftly slid the cheesy concoction onto a plate and handed it to her with a smile. Already out on the table was salsa and sour cream along with wine glasses and a bottle of merlot. "Tell me something." "What?" Jackson asked warily. "How do you know where everything is in the house?" Her suspicions had been building from the first moment they walked into the house that Jackson had been here before, and as more than just a casual guest.
"Your cousin, William Hyett, was my friend. I helped him when he had the house brought here."
"Oh, from the way you talked about him, I wasn't sure you liked him."
Jackson grinned. "Just because the man was a crazy old coot doesn't mean I didn't like him. He was a character---oh the stories I could tell you."
Serena forked up a bit of quesadilla. Ummmmmm. A man who cooked and made conversation. She supposed this was what dating was supposed to be like. "I'd love to hear them." And hear your voice. Serena didn't think she could ever get enough of his deep baritone. It set off a sexy and sinful resonance right to her core, causing her nipples to pucker and her pussy to throb with need.
"Billy moved out here in 1955," Jackson began and then paused, an odd look on his face.
A cold chill passed over Serena and gooseflesh danced up her arms. Was it the ghost of the dead man paying them a visit? She didn't believe in ghosts, but the feeling she had was downright spooky. "William was my father's cousin. We didn't know a thing about him until we were contacted about the inheritance."
"The house." Jackson rubbed his hand down his arm and she got the distinct impression that he, too, was plagued by goose bumps. "And the necklace." "Necklace?" "I don't wear it often. It's prone to tarnish and it's huge." She held up her hands in a circle to illustrate the size. "Looks like a silver sun with a moonstone in the center."
"I know which one you're talking about. Billy had it in a box in thestudy."
"I often wondered about the significance of it. Moonstone manor and the necklace with the moonstone. And have you seen the room upstairs? The door is inlaid with---"
Jackson's face had an absent look on it. The same look she'd seen on her brothers' faces when they were thinking about sports or school and not listening to the conversation. Should she even finish her sentence or just let him keep his own company with his thoughts. She sighed and pushed the last few pieces of quesadilla around on her plate and tried to swallow the emotions that threatened to overflow. Damn it, and just when she'd begun to think thatJackson might be different.
Then, her veins seemed to fill with ice and she shivered. Jackson jumped and knocked over his glass of wine seconds before there was a pounding on the kitchen door.
Serena got up and went to answer it. She looked out the half window and recognized the man on the step. Ben.
She opened the door and backed right into Jackson. He was standing protectively close and his voice was so low it was almost a growl in her ear. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I figured you'd forgotten the town meeting. I thought I'd drop by and give you a ride into town." Ben drew himself up to his full height and stared straight at Jackson.
Serena stepped back so the two men could talk and if she hadn't been watching, she wouldn't have believed the drastic change in Jackson. The confident man from the kitchen slumped, looked down sheepishly, and fumbled in his pocket for his keys.
"We were just eating supper," Serena informed Ben. Then, she turned to Jackson. "Do you have to leave right away? What time is the meeting?"
"He's allowed to eat." Ben laughed at his own joke. "But, it's important for him to be there. He's just one of the guest speakers."
"Oh. I'd love to hear Jackson's talk. Let me get a jacket and I'll go, too." "No!" both men exclaimed in unison. "It's going to be mind-numbingly boring." Jackson couldn't quite meet her eyes and she got the impression that he was lying. "Besides, those carpets need another application of that chemical." Jackson made momentary eye contact with Serena before turning to Ben. His gaze held an unspoken warning. "I'll finish eating and then drive in myself. I won't be late."
"Well, make sure you don't get lost on the way into town." Ben smiled at Serena, his large white teeth looking shiny and sharp. "The desert's a cold, dark place at night." He took a step back and Jackson shut the door.
The small hairs on the back of her neck stood on end when she saw the look Ben shot at them through the window.
Then, with Ben still watching, Jackson covered the small distance between them and jerked her into his arms and kissed her, hard. Different from the kiss in the truck, this had all the romance of a kiss on the big screen when the spy is trying to hide from an assailant. However, this was in full view of the enemy. Serena did her part to play along. She wrapped her arms around Jackson and kissed him back. What the kiss lacked in passion, it made up for in enthusiasm.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ben's face contorted with anger. Then she heard the heavy tread of his feet as he left.
Before Jackson could pull away, she nibbled gently on his bottom lip then sucked on it. She slid her tongue into his mouth and her skin tingled as he caressed her arms and his tongue tangled with hers in mounting passion. Pulling him close, her breath caught as she felt the evidence of his arousal pressed against her belly. His breath was ragged when the kiss finally ended. "Will I see you later?" Serena caressed his cheek. "I don't know." Jackson whispered and pressed a kiss to her
forehead. "Will I see you before I leave tomorrow?" "I hope so. I'd like to," Jackson paused, "finish this
properly." Serena shivered at the prospect of having his hands and
mouth on her, all of her. "But," he continued, "don't go out of the house. It's not
safe." "Okay. I'll just clean a few carpets and watch a little
television," Serena agreed cheerfully. If he'd known her better, he would have known she was lying through her teeth. Stay home? Not hardly. There was a little matter of a meeting she wasn't supposed to attend. It would be interesting to find out why.
Daniel hasn't called. Why hasn't he called? Surely by now
he would have some news about Mike. She picked up her cell phone and called him, again. Straight to voicemail, again. She snapped the cover shut and stared out the window.
Night had fallen but the desert was strangely lit. She leaned against the window frame and craned her neck to find the source. To her amazement, it was the moon. Huge and gorgeous, it seemed to fill the night sky.
She was going nuts waiting for the phone to ring. She'd done as much as she could do downstairs and there wasn't anything on television to watch. Besides, her curiosity was getting the better of her. She really wanted to know what the town meeting was about and why it was so important for her to not attend. Glancing at her watch, she calculated how long it would take her to drive into town. Maybe ten minutes. The meeting should be in full swing by then. She'd listen for a bit and be back at the house before an hour passed.
She turned and caught sight of herself in the mirror. A serious expression gazed back at her and worry lines furrowed her forehead.
Serena jumped when the Pink Panther theme song filled the room. If that isn't appropriate for tonight, I don't know what is. She found her purse, pulled out her cell phone and read the Caller ID display. Private. It couldn't be Daniel. Her heart beat a little quicker, maybe
it wasJackson. "Hello?" Tucking the phone against her neck, she deftly tied
the laces on her shoes. "Serena O'Toole?" "Speaking." "Hi, this is Doctor Samuel Brown at the University Medical
Center. I'm calling to update you on your brother's condition." "Thank you. How is Mike?" Serena's brows furrowed in puzzlement. Daniel should have been at the hospital with Mike. She expected to hear from her brother, not the doctor. But, perhaps the news was so bad that Daniel didn't want to be the one to break it to her. She steeled herself. "His condition is stable." "Stable? What does that mean?" Serena asked. "Mike was severely dehydrated when he was brought in. That issue has been resolved and he's been upgraded from serious to stable condition. We're going to keep him a few more days to run a couple of tests."
"That's the bad news? What about his injuries? Those dog bites looked pretty severe."
"Dog bites?" The doctor's voice sounded faint and she could hear him flipping through the charts. "I don't have any record of any serious injuries. Some cuts and abrasions, but nothing else." "No dog bites?" Serena persisted. "Not any recorded by me or the emergency room doctor." "Oh. Are you sure we are talking about the same patient? When I saw my brother, he was covered in blood and had two pretty severe bites on his neck and leg."
"We did note that he had blood on him, but when we examined him, there was no sign of injuries."
"Oh. Well, that's good." Serena glanced at her watch. The meeting should be in progress by now and she wasn't sure how long it would last. If she wanted to do a little snooping, she'd have to hurry. "Have you told all this to Daniel?" "Daniel?" The doctor's voice held a tinge of irritation. "My brother, Daniel O'Toole. He lives in Fresno and told me he would go to the hospital and sit with Mike." This was getting more mysterious by the minute. What if something had happened to Daniel? And were they really talking about the same patient? She'd seen the dog bites, measured them with her hand. Damn it, she knew he'd been bitten. She glanced at her watch again. The meeting might just have to wait. "Um. Right now, Mike's in the isolation ward and isn't
allowed any visitors." "Isolation ward for dehydration?" "No, for, um...um...Valley Fever. We wouldn't want it to
spread to any immunologically compromised patients." Jackson had mentioned something about Valley Fever. What was it? She had some dim recollection of hearing about it, but it wasn't anything like Hanta Virus. Was it really serious enough to warrant isolation? And why hadn't she heard from Daniel? "I'm really not sure I understand his condition." "Nothing serious, he'll be released in a few days," the doctor said. "So if you don't have any other questions, I have other calls to make. Goodbye."
Before Serena could open her mouth to ask a question, the doctor had disconnected.
Damn it, he'd hung up on her. There was really something odd going on here. Would she find out any answers at the town meeting? She certainly hoped so.
She searched through her Caller ID list and found Daniel's girlfriend's phone number. Perhaps Laura would know how to reach Daniel.
Laura answered on the first ring. Serena explained who she was and impatiently waited for Daniel to come on the line. She took a deep breath to keep from snapping at him. "Hey, bro. I was expecting a call." "About what?" Daniel's voice sounded peevish. Obviously she'd caught him at a bad time. But dammit, this was about Mike, their little brother.
"You said you would go to the hospital and check on Mike."
"Well, he's not at the University Medical Center. When I called, they told me they had just treated him onsite and released him. Isn't he with you?"
"No. And I just got a call from a Dr. Brown telling me that Michael was in an isolation ward at the hospital."
"Now, that's one thing I can check. Hold on!" Daniel's voice faded to a whisper. Serena heard the murmur of a female voice. After what seemed like an eternity, Daniel came back on the line. "Serena. There is no Dr. Brown at the hospital." "No Dr. Samuel Brown? Are you sure?" "I just asked Laura, she's a nurse there. There is no Dr.
Brown, period." If Mike isn't there, and he isn't here, then where the hell is
he? The helicopter had flown in and flown out. She'd seen Mike loaded on it with her own eyes. Where had they taken her brother? She didn't know, but she sure as hell was going to find out. There was no question as to where the meeting was being held. Lights blazed from every window of the courthouse located in the middle of the town square. A dozen or so cars were parked along Main Street.
Not wanting to be seen, she parked her Beetle in the alley behind the sheriff's station. The night was quiet. So quiet, in fact, she could hear voices raised in debate from across the street. She walked on the balls of her feet, anxious not to make any sound. Not that anyone would have heard anything over the shouting. Creeping around the courthouse, she hoped to find a spot where she could see and hear.
A quick peek in the window confirmed that just about everyone in town was at the meeting. Jackson was sitting in the back, slouched in a chair with his legs propped up on the chair in front of him. His head was tipped back and his eyes were closed. Ben leaned on a podium at the front, speaking into a microphone. The only other person she recognized was Jazmin sitting in the front row with three other women. They all had the same look of adoration on their faces as they gazed up at Ben.
"As you may know, Michael O'Toole was airlifted to the trauma center today." Ben's voice carried like a natural born orator. So, the meeting was about Mike. She hunkered down to listen more comfortably.
"Unfortunately for us, it will now come to the attention of the staff that there was a breach in security last month. I'd like your support in minimizing the impact of that." There were noises of assent from the assembled crowd. "I'm not going to lie about it." Serena recognized Jackson's voice. His words were followed by a rustling of the crowd. "I don't know who, why, or where the breach occurred. But, I will find out."
Over the top of the sill, Serena snuck a glance at Ben. He didn't look the least disconcerted. "We understand your concern, Sheriff. But, with due respect, you aren't in any position to be enforcing anything. We all know what you are up to with that television lady."
"Damn it. I'm not above the law. I follow the rules. I'm going to make damn sure that the woman is gone by tomorrow. I donot want a repeat of last month's debacle."
"Why don't we invite her to stay? It wouldn't hurt to have a couple more women in town." Ben's eyes glittered and Serena didn't much care for his tone.
"The woman has a life and a family outside Eclipse. Wouldn't you all give anything to go back to your families and lives? We don't have the right to take that from her."
"It was taken from us," a man in the middle of the crowd shouted. "And we'll get our lives back," Jackson replied. "Says who?" Ben yelled over the murmuring of the crowd. "All we hear are promises, but no one has shown up yet with any answers. I still say the squeaky wheel gets the grease. If Eclipse continues to expand, someone will start paying attention."
"In other words, you want to put Eclipse on the map." No one laughed atJackson's pun.
"Yes I do. That's the only way we're going to get answers is to demand them." "I don't agree," Jackson stated again. "You're the minority here. We don't need your agreement." Serena felt like she'd missed something vital in the conversation. Weren't the people of Eclipse living here of their own accord? And if they weren't, what was holding them here? This was America, land of the free. If you didn't like where you lived, you moved. It was as simple as that.
Looking over the sill again, she was just in time to see Jackson stalk out of the meeting. Damn. Was it over? If so, she'd have to find a better place to hide so that she could leave after everyone dispersed. She slunk around the other side of the building and was relieved to find a small bush to burrow behind. Jackson let the courthouse door slam behind him. Damn it all, Ben was going to get the whole town riled up and there was going to be trouble. He had to make sure Serena was safely gone by tomorrow, but he had a feeling there was going to be trouble tonight.
He took a deep breath and got a full whiff of her scent. What in the hell was she doing in town? He'd told her to stay at home. Guess that had been his first mistake. Now, he had to keep from making another one and get her away from here.
He slipped off the front porch and started walking a circuit around the building. He found Serena crouched behind a bush, listening intently.
He put his hand over her mouth to stifle her scream as he hauled her up. She glared at him but whispered, "Ouch." "You shouldn't be here." Jackson hissed, dragging her away from the building. "We've got to get you back to the house before you're spotted. Where did you park?" "Behind your office." "Thankfully you were smart enough to hide the car. Come
on." "No, I want to hear what's going on." Serena whispered back, digging her feet in. She didn't have a prayer of staying put, but she obviously wasn't going to go without a fight. "I want to find out what happened to Mike. I got a call telling me that he's at the hospital in Fresno. But, my other brother, Daniel, said when he checked, he was told Mike was still in Eclipse. Is he? What have you done with him? I want to know what's going on." Serena pulled away from him and stood with her hands on her hips.
"I'm not going to stand here and argue with you. I'll tell you later. But, you can't be caught here. You have to leave now." Jackson let go of her and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do with Serena--- shake her until she listened to sense or just fuck her senseless. But it was obvious she wasn't going to leave without answers, or at least the assurance of some.
Serena stared into Jackson's eyes. "Will you really tell me? Or will you tell me a pack of lies like the doctor who called about Mike." "Doc Brown?" "My God, you even know his name." Serena threw up her
hands. "He's the doctor here in Eclipse." Jackson couldn't believe this was happening. He kept looking over his shoulder. Any minute now, someone would come looking for him and they would be seen.
"I don't believe you. Is he at the meeting? I want to meet him." Serena turned around like she was going to march back across the street.
Jackson caught her in one stride. To his relief, she let him pull her into the darkness at the side of the building. "He is at the meeting and he's just as big a danger to you as Ben or any of the other men." "What about you? Aren't you a danger to me?" As tempting as it was, he wouldn't give in to his instincts to mate with her, change her into her own worst nightmare. "Come on." Jackson steered her along the sidewalk toward the back alley. "I'm the only thing keeping you safe at the moment."
"Safe from what? You sound like the whole town is in on some plan to kill me?"
"Mike was out in that desert for one reason. He was supposed to die. I couldn't let that happen. And I won't let it happen to you, either."
"So, you are saying they want to kill me? Why? What have I done?"
"I'll tell you everything, but not here, not now." Why did women always want to argue at the worst possible time? He just wanted her to get into her little car and drive far, far away from here. But, looking at her, he knew she was angry. And she was going to stay that way until he explained everything. But he wasn't going to do it here and not tonight. He'd tell her in the bright light of day, when the things that go bump in the night are only a love sick alley cat or the neighborhood dog in the trashcans. "Then when?" Serena narrowed her eyes. "Tomorrow. I'll be out first thing in the morning. We'll talk then." They approached her car and Jackson relaxed. Soon, he'd have her behind the wheel and on her way to safety. "Why should I believe you?" Why indeed? "I tried to warn Mike. He didn't believe me either, and you saw what happened to him," Jackson snapped. "Now, just go."
Serena stood her ground then, he saw her posture relax and she reached for the car door. "So, if everyone in town is a danger to me. What do you suggest that I do?"
Jackson blew an angry breath out his nose. "Woman, if you had any sense, you'd get in your car and drive as far away from Eclipse as you could get. My advice is to leave and forget you were ever here." Serena was so angry she did the only thing she could think of---she kissed him. His lips were full and firm against hers. As she tangled her hands in his hair, she was determined to make sure he didn't forget her taste or her touch. Sucking gently on his bottom lip, she let one hand trace a lazy trail down his chest, across his abs, and then further down. His breath was ragged when her fingers finally found the bulge in his jeans. "So, tell me, if I drove away now, would you forget me?" "No." Jackson's voice was hoarse with desire. He held her face gently in his hands and looked deep into her eyes. Serena felt a curl of desire open like a flower deep and low in her tummy. She wanted to taste him, to hold him, to lay naked in his arms.
"I have to get back to the meeting before anyone suspects." Jackson pushed her gently into the driver's seat and closed the door.
Serena rolled down the window. "I'm not leaving, not until I know what's going on."
"I figured as much." Jackson brushed one last kiss across her lips. "Now, just go."
Serena put her hand on the key in the ignition and watched him walk away. Just before he disappeared into the shadows at the end of the alley, he turned and waved.
She drove home with her anger and her thoughts in a riotous mess. Perhaps she should just leave. If she left a note, Mike could call her when he finally showed up. But, what if Mike wasn't safe? What if he was dead and the town was covering up his murder? No, she couldn't go. She had to stay until she found out some answers.
She pulled the car up in front of Mike's house and sat stewing for several minutes. Part of her wanted to turn around and march right back into that meeting. The other half of her was scared to death. She trained dogs, but she knew a little something about people too. Jackson's whole demeanor, his voice, and his body language told her he was scared. For her.
She got out of the car and walked fast to the front door. She stood in the silence, looking back over the desert, half-afraid of seeing headlights following her out here. But there were no lights and the only sounds came from a few crickets.
She unlocked the front door, slipped inside, and twisted the deadbolt.
The house was dark and quiet. Serena stood for a long moment in the lower hallway, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. Somewhere, she heard a creak followed by a loud sneeze.
Heart pounding, she nearly screamed when something brushed against her legs. Her legs felt weak and wobbly when she realized it was just Tucker.
"How'd you get out of your kennel, old buddy?" She could have sworn she'd securely latched kennel. "Come, let's go home." Despite her wheedling tone, Tucker wouldn't budge. "Well, suit yourself then. I'm going to bed." Serena shrugged. It was entirely too late at night to be arguing with a stubborn dog. To her surprise, Tucker followed her as she went from room to room, checking to make sure the windows and doors were locked. Then, he accompanied her up the stairs and padded ahead of her to the room at the end of the hallway. Looking back over his shoulder, he seemed to be asking her to hurry up. Once in the room, Tucker curled up on the rug and let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes. "You must be lonely, too." Serena pulled off her black outfit and dug in the chest of drawers for the flannel nightshirt she'd tucked in there earlier. Its warmth enveloped her and she slid between the cool covers on the bed.
Tucker's breathing was even and heavy in the dark. Feeling secure, Serena closed her eyes, longing for sleep.
But instead of sleep, thoughts of Jackson intruded. She remembered the feel of his hands as they cradled her breasts. His long fingers had stroked her nipples. Thinking about that caused heat to gather between her thighs. But, she needed more than just memories. She needed his fingers, instead of her own, flicking over her most sensitive spot and then slipping deep inside her wet folds. Feather light touches became more insistent as she crept ever closer to the edge of release. Moaning a little, she writhed on the bed. Even in the dark, she could feel his warm black eyes on her, watching her. She could hear him breathing. With a gasp, she opened her eyes. A shadowy presence stood in the doorway. "Jackson?" Serena whispered. The figure moved toward the bed and Serena didn't know
whether to laugh or cry with relief when she saw it was Jackson. "Don't stop on account of me." Jackson's voice dripped
with desire. What a sight she must have been with her nightshirt pushed up to bare her breasts and one hand in her panties. But, before she could compose herself, the warmth of his breath caressed her nipple just seconds before he pulled it deep into his mouth. Serena gasped. If this was a dream, it felt so real. Then, his hand pressed over hers with exquisite pressure. With a jolt, the wave of her orgasm washed over her and she cried out as he laved his tongue over her nipple and kept her hand trapped against her throbbing clit.
Finally able to catch her breath, she lay content against the sweat dampened sheets. Now, all that was left was to do it again, but this time with Jackson deep inside her. She reached for him and found only emptiness. He'd just been there, she was sure of it. She could still feel the heat of his hand and the touch of his tongue to her sensitive nipple.
She leapt out of bed and turned on the light. Squinting and blinking, she was faced with reality. She was alone. Odder yet, Tucker was nowhere to be found. How had he gotten out of the room? The door was shut.
Refusing to believe her eyes, she searched the house. Going from room to room, she turned on all the lights. She felt silly opening all the closets and checking the fastenings on the windows. The doors and windows were all securely fastened. As far as she could tell, she was alone now. But where was Tucker?
Continuing to flip on lights, she made her way downstairs. There, in his kennel, was Tucker sleeping. His tail thumped the floor when he looked at her through half-slitted, sleepy eyes. What the hell? How had he gotten down here?
She shivered and hugged herself. Had it been a dream? Had she dreamed everything about tonight? It all had a nightmarish quality toit.
No, it had to have been more than a dream. As she crawled back into bed, she consoled herself with the thought that perhaps a solution to the mystery would present itself tomorrow. She laughed at herself. Lord knows, she couldn't come right out and ask Jackson if he'd been in her bedroom while she was masturbating.
She punched her pillow and closed her eyes. Although she was tempted to touch herself again and try to conjure him up, she was overcome by sleep.
It had been stupid to come out to the house. What in the world had he been thinking? Getting involved with Serena would only mean trouble. But, she was too luscious to ignore. He'd wanted to slide more than his fingers into Serena's throbbing pussy. It was only as her breath stilled that he heard the sound of the car approaching.
It had taken every ounce of his willpower to leave. He wanted Serena calling his name while she came in his arms. But, as things stood now, that would never happen, and the sooner she left Eclipse, the sooner he could forget.
He walked quickly through the underground passageway to the barn. Once there, he pulled the hidden panel to the secret entryway closed behind him. "Hello, Sheriff." The low voice made him jump. Jackson turned around slowly. "Ben," he said evenly. "I figured you'd slip back up here." Ben sniffed the air. "You must have just been checking on her. I smell desire, but lucky for you, nothing else." "She's leaving at noon tomorrow." "Oh, I doubt that." "Leave her alone." Jackson tried to hide the fear in his
voice. What did Ben have planned? "Or what? What happens when she goes back to her dog show and someone asks where she's been? Or what if she starts talking about what she's seen around town, the suspicions she has. Are you ready for that?"
"That's not our problem. The virus was made and manufactured by the Army. We're out here as a result of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. When the Army finds a cure, we can go home."
"I don't want to go back." Ben grinned, his teeth shiny and white. "I have the best of everything. No bills, a house to live in, and I get to sate my desires with every female in town. Nothing could be better. Why would I want to go back?" "You may not want to, but everyone else does." "Do they? You'd be surprised at the number of folks
who've begun to like this free ride from the government." "There's no such thing. I don't think everyone is as happy as you'd like to believe. I'm warning you, don't drag Serena into this."
"Afraid it's too late." Ben curled one hand and rapidly thrust two fingers of his other hand into the hole in a crude gesture. Jackson had no doubt Ben intended to infect Serena just to have the opportunity to fuck her.
Fury boiled up inside Jackson and without thinking he lunged for Ben. If he could have gotten his hands around his neck, he probably would have killed him. Too late, he realized how foolish he had been to think Ben had come alone. Hands held him back.
Ben leaned into his face, smirking. "You think you're such a tough guy, but you're nothing." "Did you forget I'm the sheriff?" Ben threw back his head and laughed. "That may be, but I run this pack." His eyes narrowed and his expression grew speculative. "So, what would it take for you to tell me how to get in there?" Jackson just shook his head. "Oh, you can't tell me there's nothing. How about when I'm done with her, I give her to you for one round? That interest you?" "You animal." Jackson spit in Ben's face. "Son of a bitch," Ben wiped his face with his hands. "You
are going to regret that." He threw a punch at Jackson. The impact made his world spin and his stomach lurched with nausea. Ben slugged Jackson again. This time, the world went dark.
When he awoke, he was in jail. Literally locked in a cell at the back of the station. Running his hand over his head, he could feel a large lump, probably right over the MS-13 tattoo he hid under his hair. Damn it! How had this happened? He yelled, pounded on the walls, kicked the cot, threw the mattress on the floor, and yelled some more. All to no avail. No one would come to his rescue.
Throwing himself down on the floor, he resisted the urge to weep. He hadn't cried since the first day he'd been inducted into MS-13, one of the toughest gangs in L.A. Running with them, he'd gone from a child to a man in the blink of an eye.
But something hadn't been good with him for a long time. It wasn't until the L.A. police department pinned a badge on his chest that he realized what was missing. Pride. And now what had happened? What has beat him down? Fear. Hell, he still had nightmares about the attack. Thinking about it made his mouth go dry. Out walking a beat, he'd known he was being stalked. It had tracked him, blocks of walking, then, that last futile run to escape.
One bullet, it should have only taken one bullet to the brain to stop it. But the damn thing kept coming, biting and tearing at his flesh. There had been so much blood. At the hospital, he thought he'd survived the worst of it. Until the full moon...
Now, the minutes ticked inexorably toward the next full moon. With him trapped in this jail cell, Serena was at Ben's mercy.
Left unguarded, his first instinct was to kill them all. Then, with dawning horror, he realized he was now one of them. He needed them. They were not only his friends, neighbors, and lovers. They were his pack. My Werewolf Lover by Michael O'Toole
The rest of Serena's dreams weren't pleasant. She opened her eyes a slit. The room was blurry. She rolled over and fell with a thunk to the floor. The pain shooting through her knees jerked her eyes open. The clock on the bedside table flashed as it changed the time. Six o'clock! She squinted at the small dot that indicated A.M. or P.M. It sat firmly next to the P.M. mark. But that was impossible. She hadn't slept in past noon since she was in college. A jackhammer pounded behind her right eye and she had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Her head felt like it had been stuffed full of the feathers from her pillow. Something was terribly wrong.
Perhaps she had Valley Fever. Now she wished she'd looked up the symptoms of the disease. A high fever would explain the vivid dream ofJackson and this terrible grogginess.
And now she was hearing voices. Oh, thank god, Jackson had come looking for her. She needed help.
She crawled over to the window and pulled herself up. Sweat dripped off her nose. When had crawling six feet become such hard work?
Looking down, her blood ran cold. It wasn't Jackson; it was Ben. There were two other men with him gathered around a canister and the air-conditioning unit. She rested her head on the sill. If the pounding would stop for just a minute, she could hear what they were saying. Con-cen-trate. She closed her eyes and focused.
"Are you sure you're not using too much of that stuff? We just loaded it up this morning. I want her incapacitated for a few more hours, not dead." Ben's voice was clear.
"It's an anesthetic," a familiar voice replied. "It wears off, especially when it's administered like this. It's going to diffuse through the house. She could already be coming to." Why is the man's voice so familiar? "Yeah, but it's the same stuff they used to knock out those terrorists in that Russian movie theater and they ended up killing the hostages, too. I don't want that to happen. I want her alive." "I'm a doctor, remember. I know what I'm doing." Oh, it was the Doctor's voice! Doctor Brown. So, he hadn't been in Fresno after all. If he was here the whole time, where was Mike?
"There has to be some other way." The wall under her cheek shook when Ben slammed his hand against the wall.
"Damn place is a fortress. The windows are bullet-proof glass, and there's metal sheeting under the wood. This is the only way."
"That traitor Jackson got in somehow. Maybe we should send someone back to the jail to have a talk with him."
"We don't have time." Doc Brown's voice was muffled. "This will keep her knocked out until right before sunset. Then, when it wears off, we'll pump in some tear gas and drive her out. She'll be easy prey then."
"Just get it done. I'm going to see if I can figure out that secret door." Ben's voice faded away and the metal clanking sound resumed. Thank goodness some of the drug had worn off. If not... She shuddered. She didn't want to know about what would have happened if she'd just slept the day away. And what in the hell did Doc Brown mean by "easy prey." Whatever it meant, it didn't sound good. She had to get out of here...somehow.
Pulling a sheet off the bed, Serena dragged herself over to the vent in the floor. She scrabbled desperately, trying to get a hold and pull it up before any of whatever was being pumped in got to her. Finally, she got a finger hold. Using all her strength, she pulled up the grate and then bunched up the sheet and stuffed it into the hole. She crawled over to the foot of the bed, pulled the rest of the bedding out of the chest, and rolled up a blanket to press against the crack under the door. It wouldn't stop the gas, but maybe it would slow it down.
Exhausted, she leaned against the wall. She had to rest, or throw up, she wasn't sure which. It would be so easy to just close her eyes and---NO! Every nerve in her body screamed at her. She had to get out of here. Ben had mentioned a secret passageway and Jackson. So, Jackson had been here. Well, if he had gotten in that way, she could get out.
She felt along the wall and then pulled back in sudden horror as she felt a puff of air from somewhere. Catching her breath, she expected to lose consciousness at any moment as her fingers searched for the source of the air. It was coming from a small gap along the floorboard.
Her first instinct had been to stuff up the gap. But, why would there be an opening along the floor of an inside wall?
She pounded on the wall first, but it sounded as solid as a rock. She ran her fingers up and down the floorboard. It had to be here somewhere. Damn it. It had to be. She wasn't going to just lie down and let Ben have his way. Scraping and pushing, she slowed down, searching inch by inch along the wood. Nothing. She was about to give up when her fingernail caught on something and before she could scream, the wall gave way and she tumbled into darkness.
Shaking with pain and fear, she scrambled to her feet and leaned against the wall. Whatever she had expected to find, it wasn't this. Pitch darkness. Should she go back and face whatever Ben had planned for her? No, she didn't want to die. She only wanted to rest. Lethargy washed over her and her eyes flew open. The gas! It was seeping through the panel she'd left open.
Without a second thought, she pulled it down and it snapped closed. Oh, now what had she done? She'd never find it again in the dark. Tears leaked out of her eyes and streamed down her face. She felt along the wall. Which way should she go? A creak and a groan made her startle. There was someone there. Frozen with fear, she couldn't move, couldn't think.
She sank down to the floor and curled up in a small ball. The footsteps came closer and closer. Hot stale breath bathed her face and a cold nose poked into her eye. She stifled a scream as a tongue licked her face. Oh. My. God. It was Tucker.
"How'd you get in here, pal?" she asked, rubbing the dogs soft ears. The last time she'd seen him, he'd been sleeping in her room. Then, he'd disappeared. Was there another way in here?
Her head felt light, like a thousand pound weight had been lifted off her shoulders. When her heart had stopped hammering in her ears, she pulled herself up and looked around. It was no longer pitch black. Her eyes had adjusted to the light and she could see that she was in a hallway. The walls were cold to the touch. Metal. Hadn't Ben said something about there being metal under the wood? Sliding her hand in front of her, she crept along. Tucker kept pace with her, whining a bit now and then. How did Tucker get in?
Without warning, the bottom fell out of the passageway. She fell only a few inches, but from the pain in her knees, it could have been miles. And it was lighter here. She could actually see in front and behind her. Looking back, she could see she'd fallen down a short slide, as if the passageway was part of a funhouse. Well, she definitely wasn't having much fun.
Stopping to catch her breath and her bearings, she was suddenly aware of banging and low murmuring. The dog whined.. "Stay," she commanded in a whisper. She crept closer to the light. There was a small square vent several feet above her head. She jumped when a voice seemed to speak to her from the darkness. "Did you find anything?" "No. What time is it?" "Almost five." "Time to start the tear gas." Ben's voice sounded enthusiastic, like he'd just been told it was Christmas morning. The son of a bitch. So, now what should she do? If tear gas suddenly came pouring into the house, she'd never find her way out.
The passageway came to an end here. There had to be a way back into the main house. She couldn't pound on the wall. Ben and his minions would hear. Shuffling back quietly, she started as high up as she could reach on the wall. She'd search, inch-byslow-inch, until she found a way out.
"What the hell's wrong?" Ben's voice lashed out. Serena jumped and knocked her elbow against the wall.
"What was that?" Doc Brown asked, his voice held an edge of suspicion.
Serena held her breath and prayed. She couldn't bear it if she'd come this far only to get caught inches from freedom.
"Damn it! That was you knocking the cylinder against the house. Now, hook it up." "The fitting isn't sliding on." "Here, let me." There was more clanging and banging outside. It was enough to cover her furtive sounds as she searched for a button or a lever or something. There had to be a way to open another panel and get out. She had to escape. The thought of Ben's hands on her breasts made her skin crawl. Then, remembering the way her body had betrayed her in the market when Ben was there, she wasn't sure she'd have the willpower to resist him. She didn't want to be just another body to fuck. She'd had enough of that to last a lifetime.
A huge rush of anger cleared her head even further. Sliding her hands slowly over another piece of the wall, she was determined to be out of the house and as far away from here as she could get before dark. "Got it!" Ben shouted. Shit. Time was running out and fast. Tears of frustration filled her eyes. The only saving grace was that if she were trapped in the wall, Ben wouldn't find her. But then again, neither would anyone else. She wasn't going to die back here. Click. She wasn't even sure what she'd pressed, but suddenly, a panel opened up. Peering around the corner, she sighed. Mike's bedroom. Then she pulled back. The air in this room would soon be flooded with tear gas. If she was going to make her escape, it had to be now.
Grabbing a deep breath of air, she crawled along the floor, under the windows so no one could see her. The keys to the Beetle were in her purse in the kitchen. If she were to escape, she was going to have to get there without being seen.
She inched out into the hallway and toward the front of the house. She could see there was a large red truck parked next to her car. Could she hide in the barn? No. When they didn't find her in the house, the barn would be the first place they'd look. She could hide in the desert like Mike had done, but she wasn't at all familiar with the survival techniques that he must have used. And daylight was fading fast. She pushed open the door to the kitchen, hoping no one was looking in the window at the exact instant that she was in the open door and in full view. She grabbed her purse. Freedom was at hand. And so was a can of mace. She pulled it out and held it in her right hand and clasped her keys tightly in her left. She pulled open the bolt on the back door and took a deep breath. It was now or never.
Should she go to the right or the left? Her car was on the left, but so was Ben, Doc Brown, and the other guy. She'd go right. Darkness had fallen and she caught a whiff of something foul smelling. Tear gas. Even the tiny sniff had her eyes watering. She wiped her nose with her sleeve and moved away from the house. Oh, why hadn't she shut the door behind her? If they saw it, they'd know she had escaped.
The full moon peeked up over the horizon already lighting the yard as if it were daytime.
Her shoe bumped something and it fell with a clatter. Shit! She looked down to see what she'd stumbled over. Blessed God. It was a shotgun! She hadn't fired one in years, not since she and her brothers had made soda cans quake in fear on the back fence. But with a shotgun, she wouldn't need perfect aim. Heck, when they saw she had a gun, maybe they wouldn't mess with her. Okay, so she was fooling herself. But she couldn't help a quick rush of joy when she picked up the gun and saw that it was loaded.
Surprisingly, no one had come running at the sound of the clatter. Serena didn't pause to wonder why. It only took her a few more strides to reach the front of the house and peer around the corner.
What she saw nearly made her drop the gun. Ben and the man were bent over. Had they poisoned themselves? Then, icicles of fear rushed through her veins. What was happening?
Ben's form was suddenly covered in silver grey hair that almost sparkled in the moonlight. His ears had elongated and his face! She shuddered and stepped back, resisting the urge to run. The whole frontal section of Ben's face elongated into a muzzle. Then, with shock, she realized the wolf's savage gaze was locked on her. She stifled a scream as the thing's mouth split open in a wolfish grin. Serena stepped back and pulled the gun up.
The wolves crept closer. Didn't they see she had a gun? Perhaps they didn't think she would use it. Well, they were wrong, she would.
As she ran forward, she could hear their growls. This had better work or she was dead---or worse than dead. Pulling the trigger, there was a pause when time stood still. The blast nearly deafened her. The wolves scattered.
One disappeared. She'd have to watch her back. One dashed off around the house, possibly to leap on her from behind or cut off her retreat. The other had been hit fully in the face and was now pawing at his muzzle and whining.
She ran toward the car, expecting a heavy body to leap on her at any moment. It wasn't until she was sitting in the driver's seat with the keys in the ignition that she stopped to take a breath. A roar at the window made her jump. The third wolf, which was the largest, was launching window. Again and again, it leapt at screeching as they scratched against the glass.
She started the car and gunned the engine. The animal didn't even flinch. Fingering the can of mace in her pocket to make sureit was still there, she backed out. The wolves followed her, stalking the car.
The little Beetle couldn't do more than twenty-five miles per hour on the washboard road. Any faster and she'd knock the whole bottom out of the car and then where would she be?
himself against the the door, its claws In eerie silence, the wolves ran alongside the car. Then, they
began howling. Ice cold panic filled her veins. Suddenly, another figure came dashing along the car, snapping and barking at the wolves. It was Tucker. The wolves turned their attention away from the car and toward the Labrador. Serena felt a surge of pity. The poor old dog would be torn to shreds. She had to do something.
Rolling down her window an inch or two, she pulled the can of mace out of her pocket. "Here doggie, doggie," she called.
The wolves turned as one toward her. Faster than she'd expected, they were almost through the window. Startled, she pushed the button on the mace. It didn't fire. Oh, my god. She leaned back as snapping muzzles filled the opening and she could feel their spittle sprinkling her face, neck, and arms. Then, there was a loud hiss and the wolves were gone. They rolled in the dirt, pawing at their muzzles while Tucker pranced around them barking. She called to him, but although he came over to the car, he refused to enter.
"Oh, well, buddy. Don't say I didn't try," she told him then rolled up the window and drove away. Tucker's fierce barking faded into the distance.
It was a momentary victory, but she pumped her fist in the air anyway.
Now, to get into town and find Jackson. Something bad had happened to him. But he was still alive. Ben and Doc Brown had talked about sending someone back to the jail to question him.
The town was silent. There were no lights on in any of the houses, no sounds of televisions playing behind closed curtains, nothing but the roar of her car's engine. Something really bad was happening and she knew she couldn't stop it.
And above all, she had to find Mike. Please, God, don't let him be dead. But he couldn't be dead. Jackson had gone through all the trouble of calling her out to this god-forsaken place to help find him. No, she had to believe that Mike was still alive. And Jackson was the key. He knew what happened to her brother. He was the one who'd arranged the helicopter and set up the fake hospital story. Damn it, she'd make him tell her where Mike was. She grabbed the shotgun and left the car unlocked and running, just in case.
Pushing open the station door at a run, Serena started yelling his name. "Jackson, hey, Jackson." Waiting a heartbeat in between her calls, she listened for a reply, for any noise. She pounded on the counter and rang the bell. Still nothing. Damn it.
He had to be here or at home. She started to turn around when she spotted a door marked Staff Only. She ran around the counter, slipping a little on the linoleum in her haste. Grabbing the knob, she twisted, half expecting it to be locked. It opened easily in her hand and she felt along the wall inside for the light switch. She didn't want to be surprised by any wolves in the dark.
The overhead lights flickered on and she stared. It was an old-fashioned jail, just like in the movies, complete with three cells. The first two were empty, their doors standing wide open. The third one had an occupant.
"Jackson?" she called, walking quickly forward. "You gotta tell me where Mike is. Where are the keys? I'll let...you..." The words caught in her throat and she could only stare. It was a wolf, large and black, with amber eyes. There were clothes scattered on the floor of the cell, the same clothes Jackson had been wearing the night before. So, either the wolf had eaten Jackson and not left any blood or... "Jackson?" Serena approached the cell. Hackles rose on the wolf's back and the creature growled. Saliva dripped from his fangs and it snapped at her, pacing back and forth from one end of the cell to the other. Serena felt her eyes go wide and she backed up. "Alrighty then." Maybe there were notes or something in the files out front to tell her where Mike was.
Damn it. Howling. Right outside. They had found her already. Gripping the shotgun in her hand, she took another look at the wolf. She'd never make it to her car now. And if the wolves came pouring in, she'd be trapped. She looked around. Trapped and safe.
She stepped into the cell next to the black wolf and pulled the door closed behind her. It locked with a click and she had the unnerving feeling that it was the sound of her fate sealing.
Serena cowered against the back wall. If the wolves could open the door to the cell, she was a dead woman.
The door swung open with a squeal. Wolves! Serena sat up
with a gasp, her heart in her throat. How had they gotten in? "Serena." Although dawn touched the sky outside, it was still dark in the jail cell where she'd spent the night. However, no matter how dark it was, she'd know that voice anywhere. Michael! She threw her arms around her brother and sobbed against his neck.
He patted her back and whispered urgently in her ear. "We've only got a few minutes. We have to get out of here. Back to the house where it's safe."
"Safe?" Serena's laugh had a hysterical edge to it. "We have to get out of this town. Michael, you don't know what I've been through, what I saw." Tears poured down her face. "The men turned into things...wolves, but bigger than wolves."
"Werewolves." The familiar deep voice started a tingle in Serena's belly. Jackson walked up to the open door of the cell. Dressed in tight jeans and a soft flannel shirt, Serena thought she'd never seen anyone sexier---or more puzzling. "Werewolves? Oh, come on." "What do you think you saw Serena? We aren't stunt actors from a really bad horror flick or something out of one of my books," Mike said.
It was too much to think about. Werewolves. Was that what she had seen? Without a good jolt of coffee, her mind couldn't wrap itself around anything. She grabbed Michael's arm. "How did you get here?"
"I never really left." Mike looked over at Jackson. "The whole airlifting thing was just a ruse to allay your suspicions. I was taken to a clinic on the other side of town and held captive, 'indoctrinated' you might say." "Oh, no. Oh, Mike." Her heart clutched; a little stab of pain
and loss. "But werewolves are fictional." Jackson and Mike exchanged a long look. "I'll explain in the car. We have to get moving," Jackson
said. The Beetle was out of gas. Jackson's truck idled next to it. Serena climbed into the cab, sitting between Mike and Jackson. Any other time, she'd have felt safe and comfortable, with her brother on one side and a police officer on the other. Today, she just felt cold.
"The United States has a whole arsenal of viruses, hoping to find one effective to use as a biological weapon. Well, about three years ago, they stumbled upon one that causes lycanthropy," Mike began, sounding more like a history professor than a man on the run from killer wolves. "Lycanthropy?" "A disease that turns men into werewolves." "No." Serena shook her head. This was too much to take in.
She might as well start believing in vampires and fairies. "Yes," Jackson insisted. "Luckily for us, whoever developed the virus stuck pretty close to the myth. The virus feeds on some sort of lunar effect. So, we're only infectious, if you want to call it that, for forty-eight hours. From midnight the night before last until midnight tonight. " "So, after midnight tonight---" "You'll be safe," Mike said. "But keeping you safe until
then is going to be a challenge, because---" "Because you're both werewolves. What a nightmare. But how did this happen? The government wouldn't just set this virus on the public." Serena looked from Jackson to her brother. "Or did they?"
"No, but when the virus wore off after the full moon, the researchers weren't sure if it would come back. A month is a long time to be diligent. I guess they got a little careless and one of the test subjects escaped. I don't know if they actually knew what they had when it happened, but it didn't take long for him to bite his first victim. Then there were two." Jackson's matter of fact tone didn't disguise the horror of what was happening here.
They all sat in silence for a few minutes while Serena absorbed the information. "Did they catch the test subject?" Serena finally asked. "Eventually. But not until he'd infected forty or so people." "Forty. Do you mean that everyone in Eclipse---" "Is a werewolf? Not everyone was. William Hyett was our watcher. He made sure that Eclipse stayed off the map and off the radar of any tourists. The government pays for our silence with free housing and health care. You name it. We get it." Jackson sounded bitter.
"Then, William Hyett died. The government was supposed to make sure the house passed to the next watcher. But, I inherited it." Mike sighed.
"He had to have known what would happen," Serena snapped. "What an awful thing for him to do to you. To us!"
"The land is worth a small fortune. The hills all around here are filled with silver, and he owned both the land and the mineral rights. I don't think he wanted the government to get it all," Jackson murmured. "It's no consolation, but I don't think he ever suspected that Mike, or you for that matter, would be in any danger."
"Then why? Why would they suddenly attack Mike?" Serena didn't pause but answered her own question. "Ben. Ben's the alpha male of the pack and he made the decision. He's the rogue test subject, isn't he?" Still not waiting for an answer, she looked up at her brother and saw fear plainly written in his eyes. "And now they're after me."
"We can't stop them." Jackson had a hopeless look on his face.
"What's stopping me from just driving out of here before it gets dark?" Serena asked.
"Them." Mike tipped the rearview mirror. Trailing them were six or seven large pickup trucks.
"Shit!" Serena chewed on her bottom lip. "There's got to be something we can do." Serena looked from Mike to Jackson. "Absolutely everyone can't be in on this. Some of the people in town will listen to reason, right?"
"I don't know. Ben's hold over them is pretty strong," Jackson answered. "Hmmm. No one's going to listen to Mike, he's too new."
Serena's voice was thoughtful. "So, it'll have to be you." "Me what?" Jackson asked. Serena sighed in exasperation. "The alpha male and female only remain in power as long as the pack lets them. All it takes is someone to challenge and win in order to take over the pack." "It's not that easy," Jackson protested. "Sure it is," Serena asserted. "Right, Mike?" Mike laughingly raised his hands in the air. "Don't look at me. You're the dog trainer!"
"You have got to be kidding." Jackson took a step
backwards. "You want me to what?" "Pee around the perimeter of the house." Serena walked from one window to the next. No one had accosted them entering the house, but the trucks were all out there, surrounding them. The house might be a fortress, but it could also end up as their tomb. And it looked more and more like it was her job to make sure that didn't happen. "Why would you want me to do something like that?" "Wolves mark their territory with urine, you know that." "Well, of course, but that's while I'm a wolf. I've probably
done it often." "You don't know?" "Once we are in wolf form, our human sides are suppressed. I have no real memory of what goes on during the hours that I'm a wolf."
"Well, since we can't control your behavior when you are a wolf, we're goingto have to start now and make it second nature to you." Jackson gave her a skeptical look. "You'll have to change your demeanor when you are around Ben. A dominant wolf stands with its legs stiff, looking alert, has slightly raised hackles, and holds his tail up."
"Well, at the moment, I don't have a tail to hold up," Jackson replied sarcastically. "So, what else can I do?"
Without meaning to, her gaze dropped to his snugly fitting jeans. Now that was an idea. But would Jackson go for it? Probably not, unless she didn't give him a choice in the matter.
"We've got company." Mike came out of the kitchen carrying a sandwich. Ben was mounting the stairs on the porch. "Now's your chance." Serena gave Jackson a push. "Go
meet him at the door, stare him down." Despite her prompting, Jackson slouched to the door. And as the door opened, Jackson dropped his head, almost in a bow. It made her want to scream. Hold your head up! Look him in the eyes! Despite her silent entreaties, Jackson moved out of the way as Ben pushed his way into the house.
"Serena." Ben strode across the room and stood entirely too close to her.
Taking her own advice, she stepped into him. Great, now she was staring at his shirt buttons, but now he'd have to talk to the top of her head. She counted her breaths. She got to five before he stepped back. Only then did she reply, "Yes?"
"Seems like there's been a bit of a misunderstanding," Ben began.
"Did I misunderstand that you poured some sort of gas into my ventilation system in order to knock me unconscious?" Serena sniffed the air.
"We were just trying to make sure you slept through the full moon. It was for your own safety."
"Really? When we came in, I could have sworn I detected a hint of tear gas in the house."
Ben smiled and shrugged. "I guess we picked up the wrong canister."
"So, since it was all a misunderstanding," Serena paused, "I'm sure you're here to tell me that I'm free to go, right?"
"Well, not exactly. The full moon affects us for three nights. It would probably be best if you stayed in Eclipse tonight."
"Best for whom? If I started driving now, I could be in Bakersfield by dinnertime."
"You could. Or you could stop by a news agency on your way through Bakersfield and endanger our society."
"I wouldn't do that," Serena protested. "And you know it. So your solution is to turn me into one of you?"
"Of course not. Keeping you here is for your own safety. Your car could break down in the desert, leaving you," Ben paused, "vulnerable to appetites we can't control in our wolf forms." "Nonsense." "That's how it is." Ben turned on his heel and walked
toward the door. "So, don't leave town." When the door shut behind Ben, Serena turned to Jackson. The look on his face was clear. He didn't know how to stand up to Ben and to expect him to do it by nightfall was ludicrous. And Mike? She shook her head.
No, she knew she wasn't going to escape being turned to a werewolf unless a miracle occurred. And it looked like the miracle was up to her to pull off. "Well, we do have an ace in the hole," Mike offered up. "And what is that?" Serena sighed. "You know a thing or two about dogs." "Wolves aren't dogs." Serena collapsed into a nearby chair. She blinked back tears. "I can't just disappear. I have an apartment and a life. My show was just about to go nationwide."
Jackson made a strangled sound and Serena realized how insensitive her words had been. They had probably cut to the core. This virus was a life sentence for everyone in Eclipse unless the government found a cure for the monster they'd unleashed.
"Don't feel bad for me, sis." Mike knelt by her chair and put his hand on her knee. "I came here to write. I can still churn out a bestseller a year."
Serena took a deep breath. "Well, I'm not going down without a fight. But, I need to know what I'm fighting. I don't have the resources here to do any research on wolves, let alone on werewolves. I feel so helpless."
"Why can't you do any research?" Jackson asked. "I mean, you can read, right?" "Yes, but I don't understand what you mean." "What I mean is that Will Hyett was our government watcher. He has tons of books in the library about wolves and werewolves."
"Really? I didn't see any library when I was exploring the house." Serena felt a sudden surge of hope.
"And I certainly didn't know I had one, either." Mike chimed in. "That's because you didn't know where to look. Come on." Jackson led the way back to the study. The air was almost free of the smell of urine. All along one wall was wood paneling where a large oil painting hung. At first glance, the painting looked like a typical English hunt. But, when she took a closer look at the prey, it was obvious that the dogs were not chasing a fox but a man midway through the change to a wolf.
"I'll need your necklace." Jackson held out his hand to Serena. "You did bring it with you, right?" "It's upstairs." It only took a minute or two for her to get it, but she resented every moment that wasn't spent in finding an answer. She had to get out of here, alive and human. She just had to!
She handed the necklace to Jackson and watched as he slid back a piece of paneling. Like a missing piece of a puzzle, the necklace fit neatly inside a sun embossed in the wood. There was a loud click and a panel in the wall slid away revealing a little reading nook with a desk, a recliner, and more books than Serena could contemplate. A large stack of books balanced precariously on the desk. The book on top of the stack was titled Full Moon Rising, written by William Hyett.
Mike pushed past her to look at the titles. "There are books here on all sorts of shape shifters, not just werewolves. I could use these to research my books."
"Not until I find a way out of here," Serena reminded him. "So, go. Sleep, do whatever it is werewolves do after being up all night."
The chair in the nook was battered and worn and Serena figured William Hyett probably spent many an hour comfortably ensconced in it. Plopping down into its depths, she put her feet up over the arm and began reading.
She had read through one and started on another when a soft knock interrupted her. "Sorry to disturb you." Her heart jumped at the sound of Jackson's voice. She had been so wrapped up in the lore and world of werewolves she'd almost forgotten that she was supposed to be looking for answers of how to avoid "the curse," as many of the books referred to it.
Serena closed the book with a snap and glanced at her watch. Shit, it was almost dusk and she hadn't learned anything useful. Nothing that would get them out of this mess anyway. "Did you find anything useful?" "Unfortunately, no." "Well, there's only a few minutes before sunset, so I'm
going to take off." "You aren't going to stay?" A momentary flutter of panic
brushed Serena's stomach like butterfly wings. "I think Mike and I would be more danger to you than
help." After reading the book Hyett had written, Serena was
inclined to agree. But she still loathed that Jackson had to go. "Is there any way you could stay here? Oh! I know." Serena smiled suddenly. "Tucker's kennel. You could hang out in there---"
"No." Jackson shook his head. "I'm not sure what his scent would do to me in my wolf state."
"Oh." Serena walked over to Jackson. She only intended to give him a goodbye hug. But, when his arms wrapped around her, she had difficulty catching her breath. Her breasts crushed against the hard plane of his chest and all she could think about was how his chest hair would tease her sensitive nipples. As if he could read her thoughts, he loosened his hold on her and slid his hands up her sides until he reached her breasts. His thumbs caressed her nipples through her shirt and bra, causing heat to rush to her belly and cream to soak her panties.
He kissed her softly, his tongue barely caressing her lips before sliding into her mouth. He backed her up until her butt hit the desk. Although he broke the kiss, his eyes never left hers. Serena heard the thud of books and the ping of pens hitting the floor as Jackson cleared the top of the desk. Serena couldn't help but smile. Now this is how an alpha male should behave.
When Jackson's fingers fumbled with the buttons of her shirt, Serena gently pushed him back a step. With slow deliberation, she began unbuttoning her shirt, revealing tempting glimpses in a slow strip tease. Sliding the shirt off her shoulders, she flicked open her jeans button and watched Jackson's eyes grow dark at the rasp of the zipper. With a sexy shimmy, she slipped the jeans off her hips.
She heard Jackson's breath catch at the sight of her in her lacy black bra and panties. The warmth from his hands heated her skin as he slid them around her waist. Jackson lifted her onto the desk and slid between her legs. She wrapped her legs around his waist so that his erection pushed against her lace covered pussy.
His lips traced a slow path from her neck to her nipple. Her breath came in pants as he unhooked her bra and captured one hard nipple in his mouth. Grazing her gently with his teeth, he sucked. She moaned and arched, pushing deeper into his mouth, greedy for the heat and wetness of his lips and tongue. Then he slid lower and he pushed her down onto desk.
She felt absolutely wanton, lying on the desk with her legs spread. Jackson slid her panties down and she lifted her ass off the desk. Jackson flicked them over his shoulder, grinned and bent down. She felt his warm breath caress her clit seconds before his smooth wet tongue slipped into her slit. She jerked and his hands gripped her thighs, holding her still as he plunged his tongue deeper and deeper into her throbbing heat. His thumb caressed her clit as he fucked her with his mouth. Serena moaned and jerked with each plunge. If he didn't stop, she was going to come. "I want you inside me," she gasped. He didn't answer, but instead, slipped a long smooth finger deep inside of her, shifting his mouth to her clit. He sucked while his fingers slid in and out. Her climax built fast and she came with a hoarse cry, rocking against his mouth while wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.
Then he stood. While he'd been giving her so much pleasure, he had to unfasten his jeans. Serena hooked her toe in the waistband of his pants and pushed them down exposing his long tan muscular thighs. She smiled, the black boxer briefs he wore did nothing to disguise his physique---or the size of his erection.
She sat up on the edge of the desk, pulling Jackson to her, wanting to feel the warmth of his skin against hers. He held her tightly against him. She reached around and put her hands on his ass, squeezing, feeling the taut muscles tighten under her grip.
He stepped out of his boxer briefs and her breath caught in her chest. His cock was gorgeous and there was no doubt he desired her. Long and rock hard, a drop of pre-cum sparkled on the tip. She dipped her finger in the slick liquid and rubbed it around the sensitive head of his penis, reveling in the way his breath caught. "We really shouldn't be doing this," Jackson murmured. Serena just raised one eyebrow. "Are you telling me no?" Jackson shook his head and she smiled. Serena slid forward and wrapped her legs around his waist until his cock was firmly pressed against her wet folds. He kissed her hair, face and eyes gently, moving against her with exquisite slowness. It just wasn't enough, she wanted him inside her.
Holding her face in his hands, he looked deep into her eyes. Never breaking eye contact, he entered her with one long hard thrust. She gasped as he filled her completely. She moaned and rocked against him, pulling him in tight with her legs and her pussy. His hands were everywhere, in her hair, on her breasts, caressing her belly, and then exploring the area where their bodies joined.
Then, it was as someone flipped a switch and Jackson lost control, plunging into her with ever increasing urgency. His breath came in ragged gasps until suddenly he gripped her hips tightly and held her close and still while his cock throbbed deep inside her. Liquid heat filled her as he came.
Serena reached up to pull him close, but he pushed her away. Her eyes filled with tears at his rejection. He pulled out of her and backed away, the look on his face stark and almost feral. Looking to see what had captured his attention, Serena looked over her shoulder. Her blood ran ice cold. The full moon shone through the window.
"Don't run," Jackson advised as he backed away. "Don't run or I'll chase you and kill you. God help me."
She pulled herself into the center of the desk, hugging her knees and shivering. She didn't want to watch, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from his contorted features. The transformation was incredible. First his face elongated and changed subtly. Then, smooth tanned skin was suddenly black with silky smooth hair. The body, first standing upright, dropped down to all fours with the back arched high. A long high whine bespoke of unimaginable pain. Then, it was over. The animal that paced before her was a beautiful black wolf. He turned to her and growled, low and menacing.
Gooseflesh covered gooseflesh. If she made a sudden move, he would turn on her and rip into her flesh. The thought shredded the last wisp of desire. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe. What if---
Howling, outside the house, must have called to him, for with a wave of his tail, he was gone.
Serena's breath escaped her in a short whoosh. She flew off the desk and slammed the door shut, leaning against it while she tried to control the beating of her heart. Feeling vulnerable, she grabbed her clothes and began pulling them on. If she had to run from the beasts, she didn't want to be naked. Not that clothing would provide any protection from those claws...and those fangs. "Sis!" Mike's voice was loud and worried. "In here!" "Don't. Come. Out," Mike's voice came in short staccato
barks. Sweet Jesus. He, too, must be changing. She looked at the doors and windows. She knew she was safe in the house as long as all the doors were shut. Or, was she? Hugging herself, she looked around. The secret room. She ran over and frantically pushed on the wall. How did the panel close? Under her shaking hands, the wall finally began to move. It slithered closed. A tingle of relief traveled from her head to her toes. Safe. Finally safe.
She lit the lamp on the desk and tried to sit and relax. She should be tired. She'd spent a nearly sleepless night in jail and a day on the go, running from Ben's men and then trying to come up with a strategy to survive.
And Jackson. She'd really begun to think of him as more than just the sheriff. He was her friend. They'd actually talked, laughed, eaten together. She closed her eyes. She'd even run to him for answers and for help. She'd really begun to care for him. He'd made her feel safe, well, up until that horrible moment. Now, every time she closed her eyes, all she could see the image ofJackson's face changing, morphing into a monster. Could she ever forget?
Moonlight glittered on the hair of the werewolves as they
fought. Barks, howls, and shrill yelps filled the night until there was one final sharp, shrill cry. The silver Were stood over the black one, teeth to the black Were's neck. One snap and it would be finished.
Then, the silver Were walked away and the black Were shambled off into the shadows of the night. A new pack leader had been chosen.
Behind the silver Were, the sky turned light grey and the sun rose. My Werewolf Lover by Michael O'Toole Silence, nothing but blessed silence. The sun rose. She'd survived the night. Now to get out of here. The panel resisted all of her pushing and pulling. Just when she was about to give up, it was wrenched open. She took one look at the face looking in at her and her heart sank. Jazmin! Tears filled Serena's eyes. She'd lost. She'd be taken somewhere, locked up, kept hostage until the next full moon. Or worse, perhaps they'd just kill her outright. She began to shake. The few feet to the study suddenly seemed like a mile or two. "Where's Ben?" Serena blurted out. "Well, hello to you, too." Jazmin brushed back her blond hair, her blue eyes glittering like ice. "Aren't you going to join us?" Jazmin moved out of the doorway and Serena saw Jackson, sitting in a chair. His face was cut and bruised, but he was alive. And Mike stood looking out the window. He didn't even turn to greet her.
Something had gone wrong. Blood pounded in her ears and she couldn't quite take a full breath. Stifling her feeling of panic, she walked into the study. Then, Mike turned around and smiled. She glanced at Jackson, his amber eyes were shining. "What? What happened last night?"
"Well, thanks to you, I got my butt kicked," Jackson replied with a grimace then he grinned and held up his hands. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you."
"But where's Ben? I---I thought..." Serena sat down in a chair, suddenly at a loss for words.
"I know what you thought," Jazmin said. "You thought we were all against you. But, we weren't. Ben was unstable. We, the town, had already decided someone needed to challenge him. You just came along at the wrong time." Jazmin turned to Mike. "And I owe you an apology. What happened last month---"
"No, don't apologize. Before last night, I didn't understand the power the alpha has over the pack. Today I do. No apologies, please." "I still don't know what happened," Serena interrupted. "I challenged Ben last night for the position of pack leader,"
Jazmin began. "And won," Jackson added. "She kicked his butt." Mike thumped a fist into his palm. "Then Ben is dead?" Serena guessed. But, when she looked at their faces, their expressions betrayed the truth. "Oh no, he's escaped?"
"We'll find him again. We contacted the Centers of Disease Control this morning and they'll be sending out teams to look for him," Jackson said. "But he'll infect others," Serena said, shaking her head. "They'll find him. We have chips embedded under our skin. GPS tracking systems. They'll pick him up in no time," Mike assured her.
"That's a relief." Serena's posture sagged and she was suddenly so tired she felt like she could sleep for a week. "So, I can go home?" Mike nodded. "As soon as you want to." Now wasn't soon enough. Without even saying goodbye to anyone, she trudged upstairs to pack her bag. She knew she'd have to say goodbye to Mike, at least, but all of a sudden she didn't know what to say. Some hot-shot dog trainer she turned out to be. She'd nearly gotten Jackson killed, and had cowered in a closet all night long. The scary thing was she didn't know if she'd ever look at a big dog, like a German shepherd, in quite the same way. And Jackson. How was she going to say goodbye? Mike leaned in the doorway. "Hey, sis, I think I finally know how to finish my book. I'm going to re-title it. How does My Werewolf Lover sound?" "Like a bestseller," Serena replied. And she really meant it. "You'll be back, right sis?" Mike's expression was wistful. How horrible to live out the rest of his life in the middle of nowhere. No more release parties, Hollywood galas, or movie openings for Mike. Just years of writing in solitude. She couldn't break his heart too. "Oh, I'm sure I will," Serena lied. There was no way in hell she was ever coming back to Eclipse. "I'd stay, but I really have to get back and see about my job. 'Woof' could be appearing on a major network soon." She waggled her eyebrows at Mike and he laughed.
Her audition. With a sinking feeling, she remembered Margaret's crying and screaming, and the look on Mr. Kyle's face when the red light on the camera extinguished. Perhaps she shouldn't be counting on that network spot. Even if they didn't get the network spot, she still had her show---and her life. She just had to be better prepared and try harder.
Maybe she'd even think about forging a lasting relationship. Marriage, kids, the whole works. With a pang of regret, she thought about Jackson. No, he was a nice diversion. But what she needed was a real relationship, with a real man.
Traffic, noise, and the congestion of the city had never sounded so good. As the Beetle rattled over the washboard road, Serena scanned the distance looking for the freeway. It should be along here in a mile or two, then she was home free. Off to the side of the road, she saw a streak of yellow. Tucker. Belatedly, she realized that the dog was no longer safe in
Eclipse. Even Mike could no longer provide for him. She slammed on the brakes and whistled. She pushed open the passenger door and Tucker leapt into the seat, his face split by a huge grin. Serena scuffed his ears before putting the car back into gear.
She'd have to talk with the apartment management to see if she could keep him. If not, she could always move. Perhaps a place in the country. Then, she paused, remembering the empty desert and the dangers that lurked there. Well, maybe not in the country... Mike pulled out his laptop, booted it up, and watched Jackson pace the floor. "Can I get you with something? Water, coffee, my sister?" It had only been a day since Serena had left, butJackson had been out to the house three times. Supposedly to just clear up a few things about his statement. Mike suspected Jackson had hopes of hearing something about Serena. But Mike had an inkling that when Serena left, she didn't have any intention of coming back. Hell, if he were in his shoes, he'd still be driving. New York couldn't be far enough away.
Whatever demons drove Jackson to wear out the carpet must have been demanding ones. Every once in a while an expression or grimace would cross Jackson's face. And he kept fingering the small lump in the skin of his arm where the GPS tracking device had been injected. Probably wondering why there had beenno news of Ben's whereabouts.
Well, the damn thing was just under the skin. It wouldn't take much effort to cut it out. No, Ben was the alpha of the pack for a reason. It would take more than GPS to find him. If anyone could track Ben down, Mike figured it would be Jackson. But so far, there had been no authorization for anyone to leave Eclipse.
The government was taking care of it...boy, that made him feel a hell of a lot better.
Finally taking pity on Jackson, Mike unclipped his cell phone and called Serena's number. No answer. She'd never called to let them know she'd arrived home either. The hair stood up on the back of his neck. She had to be safe. Right?
"Still no answer?" Jackson fixed his worried amber eyes on Mike.
Mike shook his head. "She should have been back yesterday, unless she's just not answering the phone." "I gotta go," Jackson said. "See you later," Mike murmured. After the door slammed shut behind Jackson, Mike called out, "Say hello to Serena for me!" She didn't go straight home, but found herself cruising through a residential area. Thoughts of Jackson haunted her. He was different from all the other men she'd known. And not just because he was a werewolf. He'd actually listened to her, laughed with her, and loved her. She'd felt it in his touch, and heard it in his voice when he'd realized he couldn't keep her safe. Something had changed inside her too.
He made her feel beautiful, but other men had too. Namely Cliff.
Had it really been just a few days since she'd kicked him out of her bed? So much had happened that it seemed more like a year had passed. Why hadn't she seen the signs?
The answer was all too clear. Because she hadn't wanted to. Deep down, she'd known that if she asked the question, she wouldn't like the answer. But, she had askedJackson.
She could still hear the assurance in his voice when he'd told her that if there was someone else, he wouldn't be with her. She knew she could carry that assurance the other way. If he was with her, he wouldn't be cheating with someone else. She loved him. Her first impulse was to go back to Eclipse, find Jackson and tell him how she felt. But what good would that do? She'd just walked away without even saying goodbye. No, she couldn't go back. So, in the end, she just drove...
She spent an uncomfortable night in a small no-name hotel room along the interstate. Tucker had been content to just ride with her during the day, but he had whimpered and moaned all night long. She'd finally given up on sleep and just lay looking at the ceiling, waiting for the sun to rise.
Tired, depressed, and lonely, she couldn't bear to face James and the others at work. So, she went back to her apartment. The network would just have to make due without her for one more day. There was an uncomfortable chill in the air. Serena shivered. Nothing was different about the apartment. So, why was the hair on the back of her neck standing on end?
Even Tucker seemed to sense something. He stood in the hallway, hesitating. His hackles rose. "Come on, boy." Serena tapped her thigh. Tucker growled. She caught a glimpse of something, but before she could
react, the door slammed shut. "Surprise, surprise." Ben smiled, but there was no humor in
his eyes. "Ben. What are you doing in here?" Act normal. Don't let him know he's caught you off guard. Odd, his charisma isn't kicking in here. Did it not work outside Eclipse or perhaps he hasn't turned on the charm yet. "What do you think?" Ben mocked back. Gooseflesh crawled up her arms. Heart hammering in her chest, Serena stepped forward instead of back. Any sign of weakness would be her undoing. She had to control the situation, but how?
Putting her hands on her hips and striking a seductive pose, she smiled and said with a flirtatious lilt in her voice, "So, you want a little action, is that it?" Oh, please let him just take me and go.
Ben's eyes narrowed. "Sex isn't nearly enough, but it's a start."
Damn, she was afraid of that. He was fast, but desperation gave Serena an edge. She whirled and ran for the kitchen with a burst of speed she didn't know she possessed.
Before Ben could chase her down, a roaring beast erupted from her bedroom and tackled him. Jackson! Gone was the meek and mild-mannered sheriff who wouldn't make eye contact with Ben. In his place was Jackson, a man protecting his woman.
Serena backed against the wall. It was hard and cold, reminding her that if Jackson lost this fight, there would be no place left to run.
Inching over to a nearby end table, she picked up a heavy brass lamp and hefted it. Her hands were slick with sweat as she gripped the brass. Not that she had any doubt that Jackson would win, but...
There was a loud crack. Ben's head flew back and he collapsed to the floor.Jackson stood over him, chest heaving. "Is he dead?" Jackson poked Ben with his foot. "Unfortunately, no." "How come no one tracked him here?" Serena couldn't stop
shaking. "He cut out the GPS tracker. I'm sorry. I should never have let you leave. I could smell Ben's scent as soon as I got out of the car. I---" his voice broke.
"It doesn't matter. You got her in time; you saved me." Serena's heart began to pound. He cared about her. It hadn't just been her imagination, or wishful thinking. He really cared!
Serena met Jackson's gaze and grinned. Werewolf or no, he was a man. One really hot, sexy man who had saved her from a fate worse than death. A man she'd somehow fallen desperately in love with. Tears filled her eyes.Jackson held out his hand and she let him pull her into a tight embrace. How was she ever going to live without him?
"Are you okay?" he whispered. His breath was warm on her neck and she trembled. If only time could stop. Instead, Tucker was outside in the hall barking maniacally. Over the noise, someone was shouting, "Miss O'Toole. We need to speak with you about this dog."
Oh, no . Serena pulled a face. Why did everything happen at once? Looking over her shoulder, she saw Jackson pull his cell phone out of his pocket and caught a blur of movement out of the corner of her eye. A heavy weight drove her to the ground. She heard Jackson roar, then pounding footsteps shook the floor. She struggled to sit up. Everything hurt, her head, her shoulders, her back.
The building manager was still berating her about having a dog in the apartment, but she couldn't focus on anything but her fear. Ben had escaped.
"You can't keep the dog here, Miss. We don't have a pet policy."
"I'm keeping him, but don't worry about it, I'm moving." Serena stated. "What?" "You heard me. I'm giving my notice. I'll be out by the end
of the week, hell, I'll be gone today." She couldn't stay here. Ben would be back. He'd stalk her and hunt her down. And this time, there would be no one to protect her. She didn't want to live like that, looking over her shoulder all the time.
Good thing she hadn't even unpacked. But now she was petrified to leave the apartment. Tucker laid on the floor looking up at her while she paced beside her suitcases. What if Ben was waiting for her? Where was Jackson? Did he catch Ben? Finally, she conjured up enough courage to open the door. She wouldn't run, but she sure as hell was going to hide. A large shadow filled the doorway. Serena stifled a shriek. "It's just me." Jackson's deep baritone was soothing. "Did you catch him?" Jackson shook his head. "Where are you going?" "I don't know. Somewhere far away where Ben can't find
me." "Come to Eclipse. You'd be safe there." She looked up into Jackson's eyes. It was the perfect solution, except, well, except for her job and her life. Maybe she could take a leave of absence.
The phone rang. When Jackson started to get up to answer it, she grabbed his hand and shook her head. "What if it's Ben?"
She held her breath as her own voice on the recorder answered. After the beep, an effeminate voice began speaking. "This message is for Serena O'Toole. This is Mr. Kyle calling to inform you that per the request of Margaret Moran and the network, you're no longer the hostess of "Woof." Thank you for your time. We'll send your severance pay in your final paycheck."
What? Wait. Serena stumbled up from the ground and grabbed the phone receiver. No, no, no. "Woof" was hers. "Hello?" she shouted into the dial tone. Three years of hard work and he fired her over the phone. She pressed her hand to her throbbing temple and tried to remember the number to the station. Five, five, five something. Five, five, five, seven something. Or was it nine something. Shit.
She glanced at the clock. This was her timeslot. What had they put in her place?
Ignoring Jackson, she stepped over Tucker's prone body and marched over to the television and punched the power button. Serena sank down onto the ottoman to watch. She felt her eyes widen. "Woof" was on? Wait a minute, she didn't recognize that dog. But she did know the voice of the host---James, her backstabbing assistant! It was all...so...so... At a loss for words, she watched her entire life unravel. Tucker came over to lie at her feet, resting his chin on her
shoe and looking up at her with soulful brown eyes. "Is there anything I can do?" Jackson asked. Serena just shook her head. She felt numb, and sick, and suddenly so happy she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So she did neither. Instead, stood up, hold of the front of his shirt and pulled him to her. He nudged the dog away with his foot. "Jackson," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck.
His mouth captured hers in a kiss, hard and hungry. "Oh, Serena," he muttered into her mouth. It was a hot, sweet kiss that deepened, making her crave more. His tongue thrust against hers and she responded with a hunger she didn't know she possessed.
As they kissed, his hands slipped down her body, unfastening buttons and zippers with frenzied fingers. Serena helped, shimmying out of pants and panties while pulling at his shirt and jeans until they stood together, naked, mouth to mouth, cock to pussy.
His hand slipped between their bodies as he stroked the soft skin of her belly and then slid lower to tease her nether lips.
She stood panting, her legs slightly apart so that his large hands could explore her. Her head slipped back and he took the invitation to kiss and suck on the sensitive skin at the base of her neck.
He slipped a finger inside her and she writhed in response while liquid desire pooled between her thighs. He fucked her with his fingers, making her whimper and moan. Her orgasm began to build. But she wanted so much more.
As if he read her mind, his mouth blazed a trail from her neck, to her shoulders, to her breasts. As he sucked her left nipple deep into his mouth, his fingers thrust in and out of her pussy. And when she thought she couldn't feel any more pleasure, his mouth slipped lower as he kissed the soft skin of her belly.
She looked down at his dark head pressed against her mounds. While his fingers continued their assault, his tongue found her clit. He licked, teased, and sucked on her until the wave of her orgasm burst over her and her knees weakened.
He stood up and gathered her to him. When he pressed his mouth to hers, she could taste her own juices on his lips as he lowered her to the floor. He started to slide his hand back between her thighs. "Jack...." Serena caught his hand, stopping it. She was desperate for more than his fingers could provide. She needed him to relieve her throbbing need, which had become a physical ache deep in her core.
"Right here," he whispered, and he was. There was a short scrambled search in the pockets of his discarded jeans for a condom. "Rather like locking the barn door after the cow's been stolen," he murmured.
With dismay, she realized they hadn't used protection before. But instead of being worried about pregnancy, her mind clutched onto the idea of the virus. Between kisses, she finally asked if there was any danger of her catching it.
"Nope," he answered. Then, he looked deep into her eyes. And in that moment, something clicked and melded. And she knew. Knew that she was his and he was hers. Mated.
With one smooth movement, he thrust into her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her pussy pulling on his cock, urging him deeper with each throb.
Jackson's hips rocked against her, faster, fiercer. His hand slid under her and he grabbed her ass, pulling her hard against him. She kissed his throat, the underside of his jaw, the hollow of his shoulder, tasting his desire. Then, there were only waves of pleasure as she came with a cry.
Jackson bit off an exclamation and she saw his eyes go black as he arched his back and drove into her with one last thrust.
His weight was heavy on her, his head nestled against her neck. Sleepy and languid, it almost felt like a dream. Finally, the world came back into focus andJackson rolled off her.
They lay side by side on the floor. Now was the moment of truth. If Jackson stood up and started to put his clothes back on, she'd know. Instead, he rolled toward her and softly stroked her cheek. "Come back to Eclipse with me, Serena. I need you." Jackson's voice was like a caress. But she still hadn't heard the words she needed to hear. Then, when she turned to him, she realized his eyes were filled with tears. "Please say yes. I need you. I love you."
Just hearing him say it made all her doubts fall away. She loved him too, even if he did become a monster once a month. Well, so did she, if PMS counted. And she did know an awful lot about training dogs... About the Author
Ericka Scott is a multi-published bestselling author of seductive suspense. She's written stories for as long as she can remember and reads anything under the sun (includingthe back of cereal boxes in a pinch). She got hooked on romantic suspense in her college days when reading anything but a textbook was a guilty pleasure. Now, when she's not chauffeuring children around, wishing she had a maid, or lurking at the library, she's spinning her own web of fantasyand penning tales of seduction and suspense. She currently lives in Southern California with her husband and three children.

