I Kissed a Dog (6 page)

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Authors: Carol Van Atta

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BOOK: I Kissed a Dog
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Zane was finishing his beer when I rejoined him. He sensed my mood change.

“What happened?” He slammed his glass down. “Did she come back?”

“No, but someone wants to hurt you. There’s a group of men outside waiting for us.
Don’t ask me how I know, because until today, I could only read animals, but somehow
I can now hear specific people. They mentioned Jazmine.”

“Great. I didn’t want to drag you into my personal problems.”

“I take it this is part of the dysfunctional stuff,” I snapped, feeling let down.
Though a part of me wanted to believe he was protecting me.

“You stay in here. I’ll handle this.”

“Oh no! You’re not leaving me behind. What if something happens to you?” Just then
it occurred to me that there were people trained to deal with stalking psychopaths.
“Why don’t we call the police?”

“Not a good idea.” Zane was on his feet. His features had morphed from relaxed to
intense. He reminded me of a vicious dog. “Is there any way you can sense where they’re
positioned?” He sniffed the air.

“I’m not sure. I can try.” I closed my eyes and attempted to erase the terrifying
images I’d already conjured in my mind. The voices returned. I could visualize the
men. There were three — one by the Corvette; two in the woods behind the restaurant,
around thirty feet from our vehicles. They were contemplating entering the bar.

“They’re tired of waiting,” I warned. “Three males, all near our cars. Two out of
sight, hiding in the brush.”

“Them coming in here is not an option.” He swung around giving the room a once over.
“Too many people.”

“Zane, some of these locals are pretty tough. Why not get some help?” I couldn’t fathom
why he was so hung up on doing this alone.

Before I could comment further, he stalked from the bar, ignoring my calls for him
to wait.

Men! I decided to do the one thing I could — eavesdrop.

Seeing the check had been paid, I grabbed my purse and hurried to the entrance. There
were benches hugging the lobby walls and the area was deserted. Away from the crowded
bar, I could pay better attention to what was happening outside.

Who sent you? Zane demanded.

Don’t play coy, Marshall. The Indians are on to you. They don’t like our kind.

Your kind is the problem! Zane growled, sounding more feral than human.

That’s right. I forgot; you’re one of those high and mighty purebreds. In their eyes
we’re all the same.

The talking stopped and fighting started.

In my vision, I heard a series of vicious dog-like snarls and an ear-shattering roar,
followed by what sounded like bones snapping.

Too afraid to do nothing, I charged for the door, forgetting my aversion to dogs and
danger.

***

Chapter 7

The ferocious snarls and a few whimpers were coming from the wooded area off to the
bar’s right side.

I dodged between vehicles, searching for what I knew were four men in a barbaric death
match.

An overpowering need to protect Zane increased with every step.

My lone weapon, from Bob, of course, was a never-before-used canister of mace. Until
this moment, I’d never had reason to wield it. With my hands shaking, I held it in
front of me like a too-heavy sword. I slunk into the woods, ready to fire into an
attacker’s eyes given the chance.

What I saw in a small clearing rocked my understanding of reality as I’d known it.

Two men lay twisted and bloody on the ground.

Intestines spilled from one man’s torn abdomen, darkening the ground with a foul,
clumpy fluid. A third struggled to his feet, aiming a gun at what appeared to be a
humungous black bear standing at least seven feet tall on two hind legs.

It was not a bear.

The creature looked like a wolf hybrid from some horror movie with topnotch special
effects. Its muzzle, longer than an average wolf’s, rippled, and its lips curled back,
revealing long spiked fangs, still covered with its victim’s juices. Blood poured
from a jagged gash on its massive shoulder.

I didn’t see Zane anywhere.

The strange man and monster circled each other like two wrestlers in a ring.

The man was built like Zane, with cropped yellow hair. He carried himself with confidence
even while facing the lethal beast. It was easy to see without the gushing wound,
the wolf-thing would have already disarmed and destroyed its human adversary, regardless
of the man’s courageous demeanor.

“Back down! I don’t want to do this!” the man yelled, shaking the pistol.

The wolf-creature appeared to drop lower in what I assumed was a posture of belated
surrender. The man seemed to agree with my assessment and lowered his weapon. A relieved
sigh escaped through my clenched teeth.

Any relief was short-lived.

The wolf, moving swifter than anything I’d ever seen, ripped into his final opponent’s
throat, tearing the flesh open.

Shrieking, the blond man crumpled to the ground, his blood staining the grass.

His head tumbled from his slumped shoulders, rolling to rest just an inch from my
toes.

My own screams sliced through the darkness, silencing the remaining night sounds.
I knew the music in the bar was too loud. No one could hear me. Unless maybe an exiting
or entering customer happened upon me, I was alone with the murderous wolf creature.

What could a mere man do to help anyway? He’d end up slaughtered like the others.

The beast at last dropped to all fours, giving it a more wolf-like appearance. Its
glowing eyes stared with longing in my direction. Was it going to eat me? Kill me?

Instead, a mournful howl erupted from its cavernous mouth before it lunged into the
deeper foliage.

Later, back home, I sat slumped in my favorite
L-Z-Boy
recliner, feet up. Every few minutes I’d shake all over. And in a few short hours,
I’d become a shell of my normal cheery self.

Disgusted for not calling the police sooner, I reached for the phone then pulled back.

What would I say? How could I explain the evening’s events? I had the FBI agent’s
card, but couldn’t bring myself to look for it.

For some ridiculous reason, I still felt protective of Zane. I had no idea where he’d
disappeared to or if he’d somehow managed to survive the unearthly encounter. What
if I inadvertently implicated him?

All I knew for certain: the universe was home to things far more foreign than my unusual
ability to communicate with animals.

Right now was one time I wished I had closer friendships. I could call Luke, but then
I’d have to explain my time with Zane. I hadn’t spoken with Melanie since her divorce
last month. With her personal beliefs and paranormal stories gaining popularity, she’d
at least hear me out. My parents were not an option.

Unable to sleep and not sure what else to do, I flipped open my laptop and logged
online.

Wolfman
, I typed and watched the links pop up. It was then I realized the one word I’d been
searching for:
Werewolf
.

That had to be it! I’d seen a real, honest to God, werewolf.

Just reading the word prompted an avalanche of memories from my day — hearing what
must have been Zane’s “beautiful bitch” comment; the park’s wolf, Randall, and his
vision of a huge black wolf that he’d referred to as
brother
; Zane’s odd interaction with the very same wolf; Zane’s superhuman speed and strength;
Jazmine’s reference to her future
mate
; the three men’s comments about me being a human; the vision of the monster in Will’s
bedroom; the brutal murders. It all made sense now, sort of.
Zane, my potential dream man, was a werewolf. He’d beheaded someone with his own teeth.
He was a vicious killer and the full moon stories had nothing to do with his ability
to change. He’d shifted at will.

There was more. I remembered the three would-be assailants referring to Zane as a
purebred. What did that make them?

They weren’t human.

I’d tried earlier today, with no success, to read my very human coworkers. No wonder
I’d heard the thugs! They were part animal! What did that make Jazmine? — One scary
bitch.

Horror and anger collided as I remembered the hatred in Jazmine’s eyes, sending my
body into a series of spasms. My teeth chattered as the tears flowed again. I thought
I’d released every fear and tear back at Will’s. Apparently not. I made no effort
to hold back now.

What I’d endured in less than twenty four hours was enough to make the toughest diehard
crazy with fright. Without my special ability, I’d have continued my life unaware
of the supernatural world around me. I felt better knowing. Knowing meant I could
prepare and take precautions to protect myself and the people I cared about.

Still too wired to sleep after the tears subsided, and desperate to know more, my
fingers flew across the keyboard as I conducted my first ever research project on
werewolves.

Of course I’d fall for a dog, a damn dog. Talk about irony. Someone out there had
a sick sense of humor. I hadn’t bargained for this when I’d said my half-hearted prayer
for excitement yesterday morning.

Bob had always warned us to be careful what we wished for, another life lesson I’d
ignored.

As expected, the Internet was filled with abundant folklore in relation to werewolves,
or
lycanthropes, as they were referred to in Greek. Some were said to have mystical powers,
including superb senses and strength. But the stories, overall, featured dramatic
differences, making it difficult to determine the facts, if any, that were relevant
to all so-called werewolves.

I wondered if one of Zane’s powers was his ability to break a woman’s heart in forty-eight
hours or less. It would seem if my heart was any indication, he was heartbreak material.

Looking back, his protective nature was without a doubt lupine. My old mutt, Buddy
Boy, would have fought off Butch the lion to save me, given the chance. Zane had been
protective from
protective from
the start. That thought gave me some comfort. He hadn’t been running around rescuing
anyone else.

Sometime before dawn on Tuesday, with my thoughts becoming even more incoherent, I
closed my computer.

That was the last I remembered of my longest Monday ever.

***

The ringing phone jarred me awake.

I tore myself from the chair where I’d fallen asleep. My wall clock read 9:11 AM.
I was over an hour late for work.

“Luke, I don’t know what happened!” I half screeched, not yet awake.

“I told you to take the day off. Zane’s here. He can handle things. Stay home. It’s
an order.”

“No way! Let me hop in the shower, and I’ll be there.” I hung up before he could protest
further.

This I had to see.

Mr. Werewolf had made it to work after a long night of pillaging and killing. We had
a number of things to discuss. First item on my to-discuss-list was his identity —
the real one.

After showering in record time, I paid careful attention to applying my makeup just
so, enhancing my features. I made up my eyes like I’d seen in a copy of
Vogue
, giving them a cat-like appearance. I intended to use every possible angle, including
my womanly wiles, to persuade Zane into spilling the gory details of his existence.

Any lustful feelings I might have entertained had been severed, right along with the
blond stranger’s head.

Following an uneventful commute, I pulled into my usual space, noting the parking
lot was already filling up. A steady stream of people flowed through the front entrance.
The theory that our summer business faced extinction was proven wrong by the diverse
crowd willing to brave the thick morning fog.

Rushing through the gate, I hurried to complete my normal routine. I’d have to forfeit
my usual coffee-on-the-bench time — one of the major reasons I was never late. Starting
work on the run held no appeal for me.

The moment I spotted Zane talking with Rhonda and Luke, I regretted coming in. My
earlier bravado was replaced by a sense of revulsion at the sight of our veterinarian/werewolf.
By wearing the extra makeup and sequined jeans I now felt cheap and overdone rather
than cute and confident. Who was I kidding? I was way out of my league. Women like
Jazmine belonged with wolfy-men like Zane. He’d see right through my little ruse.

Determining I had just minutes, even seconds, before Zane and the others noticed my
arrival; I decided to see if Zane’s mental block was operational. Maybe he allowed
himself a reprieve from the mental warfare without me around.

I concentrated, pushing away any distracting sounds. It took a second and I was in.

I’ve got to talk with Chloe. She saw me. What am I going to do? Jazmine will find
a way to implicate her, especially if I keep avoiding the mating ceremony. How could
something so simple turn into such a mess? The meeting is next week. That’s all the
time I have…

“Chloe! I didn’t know you were here.” Another employee, John Mitchell, greeted me,
looking puzzled by my strange behavior. I was half-hiding behind the wallaby enclosure
staring at Zane.

“I figured you’d taken the day off.” He followed the direction of my gaze.

“I should have. It’s so strange without Will.” I hoped John would take that as a cue
to move on and mind his own business.

“He was a good guy. Sorry, gotta run! Time to display the babies.” He zigzagged his
way through the visitors toward the nursery.

As a longtime employee, John had one of the cushiest jobs in the park. His biggest
stressor was ensuring that everyone had a chance to pet the fuzzy critters. I avoided
the nursery. Baby animals didn’t have much to say other than feed me; pet me.

Zane on the other hand had quite a bit to say in the short time I’d managed to infiltrate
his thoughts. Making sense of his disjointed thinking was a whole different matter.

“I thought I told you to stay home!” Luke, being the first to notice my arrival, scolded.
“You’re so damn stubborn, Chloe.”

“Since when is that a problem?” My eyes darted to the spot Zane had been standing.
Both he and Rhonda were gone. “Where did my illustrious partner go?”

Luke peered at his always-present clipboard. “Where he’s supposed to be, the exam
room. Please don’t tell me you’re still worked up about him,” he paused, looking
guilty. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. With Will and all —”

“No.” I stopped him. “You’re right. I was being childish. There’s a serial killer
roaming our streets. My issues with Zane are nothing I can’t deal with. Don’t apologize.”
I hoped I sounded more sincere than I felt. My problems with Zane were far from over.
Oh no, we were just beginning to scratch the surface.

“Good. He’ll be glad you’re here. One of the zebras was limping.”

“I’m on it, and, please, stop worrying about me. Okay?’ I felt bad for Luke. He was
a great boss and a good guy. Sometimes I took his kindness for granted.

“You look fantastic. What’s with the makeup?” He gave me a knowing look, tinged with
a hint of jealous speculation.

“Can’t a girl play with her cosmetics now and then?” I tried to joke off his not-so-subtle
insinuation.

“Luke! I’m out of ones!” Christy, our gift shop cashier, hollered from inside, waving.
A half-circle of restless customers surrounded her counter.

Relieved by the distraction, I swallowed my rising worries, and headed to the exam
room.

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