Make Me Howl (22 page)

“Right.” I watched for a few moments while he tinkered with his machines, then I heard something mewling in the distance. “What’s that?”

“Day old wolf pups. Lost their mother, so we’re hand raising them. Sounds like they’re hungry.”

Butt aching on the now warm stool, I asked, “What happened to their mother?”

“Werewolf attack.” He gazed at me for a moment, blanking my mind for all intents and purposes then he refocused on his work. “Funny thing is, he broke her neck, but it was as if he realized she was about to whelp and didn’t tear her apart like he did the other animals. We delivered them right after she died.”

“Oh, the poor babies.” I used a soft tone, just short of wheedling. “Would it be okay if I helped with their feeding?”

“Since we didn’t have another mother who could feed them, they’re being raised by humans.” He gave me one of his delicious half smiles. “I think you’ll qualify.”

“At least most of the time,” I murmured as I slid off the stool. “Which way do I go?”

“Just let me get this started and I’ll show you.”

After a few agonizingly boring moments, he finally started one of his toys humming, clipped a timer on his pocket then turned to me. “Ready?”

Can a wolf bite?
I wanted to snap, but decided against it. “Yeah.”

I followed him to the nursery, where four baby wolves huddled together in a bed of straw. He filled a bottle with warmed milk, handed it and one of the pups to me.

I held the baby close. “Were they all in the same litter?”

“Yeah. This was her first pregnancy, but I think she would have been a great mother.”

Guilt rose in my throat. “Poor babies.” I shoved the nipple in the baby’s mouth, and was glad to find feeding a wolf cub was a lot like feeding a dog pup. Exactly, in fact.

I moved to a nearby rocker and sat down. “You keep rockers around for puppies?”

“It’s really for the surrogate parent. We found that our volunteers—men and women—were rocking the animals, even if we gave them metal folding chairs. Even when we took out all the chairs. No matter if they had to stand or sit on the floor, they still swayed.” He shrugged as he filled bottle and picked up another pup. “The humans raising the animals have a need to rock. And now some of our animals do, too.”

When the pup he held slowed his nursing, he put it back in the straw and picked up the other crying baby. The last one was dead to the world. When the one I held wouldn’t allow the nipple in his mouth anymore, I set him down. “Should we wake up that last one so he can eat?”

Doc laughed at the puppy in his arms who seemed to be trying to get the entire bottle in his mouth, then sobered at my words. “It’s a female. You can wake her and try to feed her, but we’re not having much luck with that one. I don’t think she’s interested in living.”

“And she’s the runt of the litter.” I ran one finger down her head to her nape. I picked her up and she curled against me, snuggling as if she were cold. But it wasn’t the least chilly in their nursery.

I took a fresh bottle, settled back in my chair and bumped the nipple against her lips. When she didn’t respond, I gave her a gentle shake. “Wake up, darlin’. It’s time to eat.”

Doc checked the chart, lying close by. “She didn’t take a measurable amount at the last feeding, either.”

Grim determination hardened to a knot in my belly. I couldn’t let this baby die. Pulling my feet onto the rocker’s seat, I balanced the pup on my knees then tapped her on the head. After a thump or two, she lifted her muzzle and whined. “Good. You’re awake.”

Doc’s timer beeped. “Okay, I’ve got to get back to the lab. If you need anything, come find me. I don’t think anyone else is around.”

I nodded as he walked away. I put the nipple to the baby’s muzzle, but while she sniffed as if trying to see what wet her nose, she wouldn’t open her mouth.

Poor thing. It wasn’t her fault that a rogue werewolf killed her mother. She shouldn’t have to die just because she hadn’t been quite ready to be born.

Too bad they couldn’t get one of the other wolves in the zoo to feed her. But unless she accepted the babies right away, another nursing mother would quite likely kill a strange baby.

If they could even get one of the older females to lie with her while they fed her, just so the scent would be right, it might help the baby eat. But no matter how old the female, she could easily kill a strange baby.

That’s when it hit me. I was a female wolf. Well, werewolf. Why couldn’t I morph and get her to eat?

Without weighing the pros and cons, I decided to try it. Taking the cub to an out of the way corner, I made her a nest of straw and propped the bottle beside her. Then holding all my anger at the unfairness of the baby losing its mother because one werewolf who needed to die, I slipped out of my clothes and morphed. I went quickly to the baby and sniffed around her face. When she caught my scent, she immediately whined her hunger.

Without an opposable thumb, however, it’s not an easy task to get a bottle into a pup’s mouth, no matter how wide she’s holding it. But there’s no halfway point. I’m either a werewolf or I’m not. I had to find a way.

After spinning three times, I curled around the baby. Then with my snout, I pushed the bottle her way. It took some time to get her to accept it, but finally, she latched on and suckled until her tummy was full.

When she’d finished, she had milk running out of the corner of her mouth and a fat belly. I quickly turned human again, redressed and took her back to sleep with the other pups.

I walked back into the lab, where Doc stood, staring at nothing. I’d never before seen him look as if he’d lost his best friend. “Are you all right?”

A bleak look on his face, he shook his head. “I was right. He’s got the Lycan infection.”

“Well, that’s something Texas doesn’t need. Two wild werewolves, tearing up the place.”

“Tell me about it.” His tone was grim. “I’m going to have to try the injection, and just hope it works.”

“Take me home.”

****

Chase turned at her whispered words. The look in her eyes—vulnerable strength—drew him. Unable to resist, he raised his hand to cup her cheek. Her tone held a promise that blasted the “this-has-all-been-for-nothing” feeling ramping in his brain. Sliding his fingers down her cheek, he glided his index finger along her bottom lip.

She sucked his finger into her mouth and tugged hard on it.

Visions of her naked in his arms flashed through his mind. He lifted her to a stool and kissed her, letting his hands drift down her arms. With little effort, he nudged her knees apart, edged as close to her as he could get and still remain dressed.

He throbbed against her, wanting to be inside her more than he wanted oxygen. But he couldn’t make love to her in a sterile laboratory. The odors alone would probably be enough to kill the desire she had for him.

He lifted his head. “Let’s go home.”

Eyes glistening, she caught her breath and slowly nodded. He helped her from the stool and, keeping her close to his side, took her to his truck.

After tucking her inside, he circled the truck, yanked open the other door and climbed in with her. Without a word, he started the engine and dropped the gearshift into drive. Halfway down the zoo’s entry, he buckled his seatbelt.

Trying to look casual, as if he drove with the safety of his seatbelt all the time, he stretched the strap across his shoulder and snapped it into place.

“I wondered if you were going to.” Her voice was cloudy. Thick.

Why pretend? Why act as if he had anything on his mind besides getting her home. And naked. As the vision of her again took possession of his mind, he pushed harder on the gas pedal. Clearing his throat, he hoped his voice wouldn’t break like a young teen’s. “I had something on my mind.”

He could feel the heat as her gaze kindled. “Where are we going?”

“Home.” He fought the urge to clear the gravel gathering again in his throat.

Her chuckle came from somewhere deep in her chest. “Yours or mine?”

Calculating quickly, he counted the miles to her house, then to his. “Mine. It’s closer.”

“You all live together, don’t you? Won’t your family be there?”

He couldn’t help teasing her a little. “Why? Are you worried about what Mom will say?”

She shifted toward him, and laid her arm along the seatback. “You don’t mind if she knows you’re bringing women home to sleep in your bed?”

“No. Not women. Woman.” Stopping at the highway, he took his attention from the road to give her a straight look. She had to see how serious he was.

“At a time?” Her tease was gentle. Loving.

“Ever.” He should have cleared his throat again. Should have known that the word would emerge as a whisper. Would sound as if he needed her.

“Then she’ll probably be really shocked if she notices.” Her voice, too, was barely audible.

He laughed, trying to lighten the mood while he prayed that they could make it all the way home. “Well, that won’t be until she comes to tuck me in.”

“Which should be in, what? Another week when they get home from their trip?” Her laughter, as rough as his, filled him.

If he were clairvoyant, he’d see his future now. Mapped out with her and filled with a roller coaster ride of excitement for eternity.

At least, he hoped so.

He turned the radio to a station he knew played slow, sensual music. The music thrummed—not unlike certain parts of his body.

She slid as low in the seat as the seatbelt would let her, closed her eyes and hummed along. She couldn’t know what her body in that position did to him.

Like most guys in Texas, his first time had been in the bed of a pickup truck on a hot summer evening. But in the cold winter of his high school years, he’d found a way to make it with a girl, actually several girls, sitting in just that position.

Maybe Jazzy did know.

The closer they got to his house, the faster he drove. He had to get home before he couldn’t hold out any longer, found a dark back road and grabbed her. He wanted her in his oversized bed. Lying under him. With him buried deep inside.

Finally they made it to the private road to his house. He turned off the radio and hoped his brothers wouldn’t hear him drive past—if they happened to be home. Although it was rare, they had been known to visit late at night, especially when they wanted a game of pool and were too lazy to venture out very far. Hopefully, tonight they’d find their games someplace else.

****

I straightened in the seat as we turned onto the part of the road that circled the house. Although I’d visited the older Hollidays’ part of the wagon wheel when I topped off and organized their cruise wardrobe, it looked different at night.

One thing was obvious—the landscaping had been done by professionals—very good professionals. The lighting, angled at the trees, sent odd shadows across the lawn. “I’ve been in your parents’ house. Is this yours, next door?”

“No, this one’s Spencer’s,” he answered as they drove past. “The one on the other side of Mom and Dad is the guest house. Next to the guest house is Mack, then Drew. I’m between Drew and Spencer.”

It surprised me to see the lights out at Spencer’s and the driveway empty. He’d had plenty of time to drop Bella off and get home. Maybe he had a girlfriend Doc hadn’t mentioned.

Doc opened his console and reached inside. His garage door opened as we pulled into the driveway, and we drove straight inside. Even before we were all the way in, he started closing the big door.

Killing the engine, he unbuckled and got out. I knew he’d open my door for me, but hey, my hands aren’t just painted on! And I wanted to get inside to his bedroom without wasting time fooling with doors or mama-taught-southern-manners.

He tapped out a few numbers on a keypad next to the entry. When the electronic pad beeped back at him, he caught my hand and tugged me in the door.

We stepped into a kitchen that looked as if it had never been used for more than brewing coffee. I thought about asking if he ever cooked, but before I could formulate the words, he led me into the living room.

At least, I
think
that’s what it was. It was the part of the elder Hollidays’ house that had been the living room. It had a huge fireplace, like the parents’, and I assume all the houses, had.

But had it been in a different location, I would never have guessed what it was originally designed to be. In front of the fireplace was a huge pool table and directly overhead a rectangular light asked,
Who’s your Brew?
It looked like a beer ad. On the wall, off to one side, near the kitchen, hung the largest flat screen TV I’d ever seen, and clustered around it were five recliners, each with a TV tray, standing nearby. There was even a small refrigerator that looked as if it had been stolen from a dorm room. Or maybe a frat house.

I couldn’t believe what I saw. How could a man with Doc’s money live in a house, decorated as if he didn’t have two nickels to jingle in his pocket?

Before I could ask, he pulled me into his arms. My breasts pressed hard against his chest as he slid his hands to my hips to pull me yet closer. Heart pounding, I struggled to remember how to breathe when he slid his tongue into my mouth.

I couldn’t make myself wait a moment longer. I had to have him. Then. There. Completely naked or with just enough unzipped and pushed aside to get the job done, I wanted him hot and hard and deep within me.