Claimed by the Wolf (BWWM Erotic Paranormal Romance) (5 page)

Was I really in that much danger?

What had I gotten myself into?

My head throbbing, I dropped down onto one of the concrete bumper blocks. It was so cold, but it held me upright, and right then, that was all I needed. My stomach twisted on itself. Rival packs? Until tonight, I hadn’t even known werewolves were anything more than a TV show on the CW, and now not only was I possibly bearing one in my belly, but that fact could get me killed by other werewolves.

Killed.

I’d been lucky. I knew there were neighborhoods in New Jersey like Camden and Newark and parts of Trenton, where murders happened on a daily basis. Even Asbury Park had been pretty rough before it got cleaned up. Say the wrong thing and piss someone off; get shot. End up at the wrong bar; get knifed. Find yourself in the middle of a drug deal gone wrong, and it would be a sawed-off nine-millimeter to the head. I knew all that. Who didn’t? But I’d never had to see any of it.

Even though she hadn’t been able to make all that much money after my dad passed on, my mom had always managed to keep us in decent areas. The right side of the tracks in Millville when she worked as a temp, and later New Brunswick. I’d never had to worry about more than how I was going to pay for my education after she died. I’d been blessed.

Now, though, all those larger-than-life stories and news reports threatened to be just the right size for my life. My heart hammered in my chest, making it hard to breathe normally. I lowered my head between my legs to try to stop the hyperventilating before it started. At least, one part of my mind noted, nursing school had been good for something. If nothing else, I knew how to keep from having a complete meltdown right there in the parking lot.

Grant’s associate, the one who had taken me out of the bar, approached with a cup of water. It turned out he’d been looking for me when I’d crashed into him at the bar. Once Grant got my phone messages and realized what the date was, he’d sent Mike over to watch for me. Mike was supposed to send word, and Grant would have me moved to a private location, but before we could do that, the brawl broke out.

“You were lucky,” Mike said, handing me the water. “That was no ordinary fight in there. One of the rival packs, the Black Tails, was making its move against us.”

“‘Against us,’” I repeated stupidly. “Who, exactly, are ‘we’?”

Mike shook his head. “You really don’t know anything, do you? I told Grant to stick to our kind, but does he listen?”

I turned my death glare on him, the one with all the venom-tipped barbs I could load into one look. “Don’t mess with me,” I snapped.

He didn’t exactly cower, but he tilted his head in acknowledgment. “Fair enough. It’s not like you not knowing is going to help anything. During the day, Grant’s the oil mogul you’ve heard of, but by night—when he’s not taking ladies home and throwing parties, that is—he leads the biggest, most powerful werewolf pack, the Golden Stripes. Trouble is, not everyone’s happy with the status quo. Seems a couple hotheads from rival packs wouldn’t mind seeing Grant and the rest of us get taken down, and they’re more than happy to help make that happen.”

I frowned. That still didn’t explain everything. “So where does this . . . baby come into it?”

“Werewolf succession happens one of two ways: either you kill the head of a pack, or you’re born into it.” Mike jabbed his chin toward my belly. I felt an instinctive urge to shield it, but I managed not to give in. “So anyone who had planned to try to off Grant—and there are a good number of those; you can trust me on that—now has to worry about an illegitimate heir.”

I shook my head. “You’re seriously telling me Grant has never had any kids before?”

Mike laughed. “Aw, geez, you really don’t know anything, huh? He has to get married all proper and have a kid officially, or at least that’s how the ritual goes. But even if he didn’t do that, this pup of yours will still have his blood, and it’s easy enough to put a ring on your finger, right?”

“And if I refuse?” But even as I asked the question, I knew it was a moot point. Who in the rival packs would be foolish enough to take the chance that I
might
not accept everything that came with marrying Grant Beal?

“Love’s a fairy tale that fools tell themselves,” Mike said, as if he’d read my mind. “
Love
really means you found the person who can give you all the things you want. All the things to keep you in food and a roof over your head and maybe even money to spend on pretty trinkets. Any jackass can learn to ‘love’ the one they’re with.”

“That’s pretty cynical of you,” I scoffed, because I didn’t want to admit I knew what he meant. Where was I ever going to find a better situation than at a hot billionaire’s side?

“
Cynical
’s just another way of saying I’ve seen the world.” Mike bent down and offered me a hand. “Anyway, come on, we gotta get out of here.”

“Where to?” I asked. Everything felt like it was rushing by way too fast. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Grant leaning against the Hummer, saying something into his cell phone.

Mike pulled me to my feet, and I turned to look at Grant. I’d slept with the man, I’d watched him turn into a werewolf and scratched his furry head, and even now, he still seemed like something from a fantasy. A romance novel, maybe. It made tears come to my eyes.

There was always a happy ending in romance novels, but what about in my life? With this little bun in my oven, would I even live to see the next year?

Mike helped me into his car. “We’re taking you back to Grant’s,” he said. “We have the best shot of keeping you safe there.”

“What about my stuff? I have to buy groceries. The landlady will think I’m skipping out on the rent—” I knew I was babbling, but I couldn’t help it.

“Buckle your seat belt,” he said. “You’re riding for two.”

I made a retching sound. “Don’t even start that crap.” But I buckled the thing. No reason to tempt fate any further than I already had.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

I jumped in my seat almost high enough to hit the roof of the car. “What the hell was that?” I demanded, heart racing at a hundred miles per hour. “Gunshots?”

“Yeah,” said Mike, his face grim. Then he turned to me with a huge grin. “Nah. Just my car backfiring. This old thing is overdue for maintenance. Maybe you can convince the boss to fork over some dough for repairs.”

It took everything I had not to punch him. If I didn’t feel like my heart was going to burst out of my chest in a horrible, painful end, I would have. Instead, I concentrated on trying to calm it down.

My phone beeped with a text message. Out of habit more than any real desire to know who it was, I glanced at the screen. Avon.
Call me. It’s important.

Was he
kidding
? I threw the phone back into my bag, then cringed back against my seat and wished for the millionth time I had just stayed home that night one month ago.

As if we hadn’t been interrupted, Mike picked up right where he’d left off. “No gunshots right now, no. But don’t worry,” he said breezily. “Stick with us, and you’ll see the real thing soon enough.”

* * *

U
nlike my previous visit, Grant’s mansion teemed with people. A lot of them wore sunglasses—what, did they think this was the Secret Service or something?—so I couldn’t tell who was werewolf and who wasn’t. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to know.

Well-armed soldier types, both male and female, stalked past, barking commands at their minions. Mike had disappeared soon after seeing me inside through a side door, so now it was just me and my fears. And this tiny creature growing inside of me.

I pressed myself flat against the sofa, hoping no one would notice me. At the same time, I really wanted some answers. I got the first, sort of—people wandered past and gave me strange looks, but no one said anything to me. Finally, even though I really just wanted to run away and forget any of this had ever happened, I got up and waded through the crowd to find Grant.

I ran right into the woman who’d seen my walk of shame a month ago, his assistant. I took a better look at her this time: light brown skin, reddish-brown hair cut in a stylish bob, an ivory silk shell top over a long black pencil skirt. But no ocean-colored eyes, just plain old hazel ones.

I relaxed. At least one other human, even if she wasn’t totally friendly to me.

Her mouth tightened. “I assume Grant knows you’re here,” she said. When I raised my eyebrows at her rudeness, she added, “Of course he does. You wouldn’t be here otherwise. Forgive the question.”

Her phone buzzed, and as she read the message, her eyes widened. She glanced back up at me. “It seems I am to help make you at home. I suppose introductions are in order, then.”

“You’re Grant’s assistant,” I blurted. “But I never got your name.”

She looked taken aback. “Carmelita. But you can call me Caro.”

“What a pretty name,” I said, meaning it. “Makes me think of old movie stars.”

Caro smiled tentatively at that. “Well, thank you, I suppose.” She let her arms fall to her sides. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m trying to find Grant, actually,” I said, not sure how much to confess. How much, if anything, did she know?

But before Caro could say anything else, Grant’s voice boomed out from the living room. We exchanged glances, then hurried over and slipped into the back of the room. Everyone seemed to be talking at once.

Despite myself, despite my fear, my eyes slid right over the rest of the crowd and landed on Grant. Without even trying, he was just so damn sexy! I had thought knowing he was a werewolf would be a turnoff, but if anything, it just made the whole “animal side” thing literal. I wouldn’t mind him growling at me . . .

Grant clapped his hands, and the packed room instantly silenced. “Thank you all for coming out tonight. This isn’t quite the joyous full moon celebration I’d anticipated, but then, we’ve known for some time now that the Black Tails are out for blood. They’re not happy we have so much power in the bloc, and they have announced their aim to take some of that power from us. By shedding blood if they have to.”

The room rumbled with mutters and grumbles. Clearly this was not a new thing. Even Caro nodded.

An older man stood. He was black and had a distinguished face. If not for those blue-green eyes, I would picture him as a professor. Oh, hell, what did I know? Maybe that was his day job. “But what about throwing them a bone?”

Laughter broke out. “Good one, Charles,” someone called.

Charles allowed himself a smile. “All right, all right,” he said. “What I meant was, what about the betrothal? You have to know that part of this anger is the lack of succession.”

“Part of our
weakness
, you mean,” the man next to him shouted.

“We’ll get to that,” Grant said. “I’m on the hunt for the right mate. It can’t be just anyone.”

“You have all the woman you need right here,” said a blonde white woman in her twenties as she licked her lips. No doubt, she was a looker. I felt frumpy next to her.

But Grant barely acknowledged her. “Let’s get back to the immediate issue, please.”

“But we
need
an heir,” an older woman protested. “We need you to settle down and choose a wife. It’s the only way we can secure our position in the bloc.”

Sighing, Grant ran a hand through his hair, mussing it. “Enough. I will settle down when I’m good and ready.”’

“But without an heir—”

“I said,
enough
,” Grant roared.

Oh, God. I bit my cheek hard. What would all these people say if they knew? Well, I knew one thing: I sure as sure wasn’t going to be the one to tell them.

My phone buzzed again. Thank God it was on vibrate. Annoyed, I pulled it out. Avon again.
We need to talk. Right now. Call me.

What was wrong with him? The man had cheated on me, thrown me out, and now had the gall to decide he wanted to talk? Well, he could wait until the sun burned out, as far as I was concerned. I had much bigger things to worry about.

And a much hotter man
, that sly voice I just couldn’t get to shut up whispered.

Unfortunately, werewolves seemed to have great hearing, because even with the phone on vibrate, everyone turned to look at me, Caro and Grant. “What’s a human doing here?” a woman near the front of the room demanded.

Grant, to his credit, looked embarrassed. It made me simultaneously want to pinch his cheeks and slap him for putting me in this super awkward situation. “She was caught in the middle of the brawl tonight,” he said at last, “and she saw us for what we are. So we have to keep her from revealing us to the humans.”

“What are we going to do with her?” someone called. I couldn’t tell who.

Mike materialized out of nowhere and put his hand on my shoulder. “We’ll take care of that, no worries.”

Grant cleared his throat. “As I was saying, I’ve received a communication from the leader of the Black Tails tonight.”

A hush spread over the room. Even I found myself leaning forward.

“He wants to meet with me tonight.”

Shouts rang out at once. “Here?”

Grant nodded. “Here. We’ve agreed to a twenty-four-hour truce.” He made eye contact with each person in the room in turn—except for me. “I need you to honor that truce. I know the Black Tails have not exactly been behaving in accordance with the old rules, but that is no reason for us to turn savage.”

The group reluctantly agreed. I didn’t blame them for not wanting to fight back if they were being attacked, but Grant was right. They needed to hear their enemies out. Maybe a parley could even be reached.

And maybe I could go home.

Mike and Caro led me out of the room. “This is such a huge mansion,” said Mike, rubbing his chin, “that we’ve decided we need to limit the number of available rooms. There are just too many to guard well. So for the moment, we’re putting you up with Mr. Beal.”

Both Caro and I whirled on him. “What?”

Mike waved irritably. “Don’t be such drama queens,” he said. “This is a matter of security. Personally, I don’t care whether you get up close and personal with the boss or not—seems you already have, after all—”