Mr. Red Riding Hoode: Poconos Pack, Book 2 (6 page)

No!
But she could almost hear him laughing.

Odie accompanied her next message, drooling all over the place.
I promise, I’m harmless.

No answer. She dug up Peg from Lady and the Tramp for her next message.

If he’s a tramp,

he’s a good one,

and I wish that I

could travel his way.

She waited a moment, but all she sensed was confusion. Damn. For a moment she’d forgotten. He didn’t feel the mating pull yet. She should have saved that one.

She dug out the next image, one of Courage the Cowardly Dog.
Something fishy is going on, or my name is Aloysius… And it’s not.

Snickers answered that one, making her smile. Her mate had the best laugh.

“Where did you get all these?”

She’d forgotten Ben was still looking over her shoulder. “Which, the pics or the quotes?”

“Both.”

“Belle.”

“Ah. Yeah.”

She grinned. So far it seemed to be working. At least Steve was talking to her, even if it was to say no.

The next message from him was followed by a swift dash of fear.
You’re a werewolf. Ben’s a werewolf. That’s not something you get over with cutesy text messages.

She typed back,
I know, but…

She sighed and sent him a GIF of a little boy hugging his dog.

Silence. Not even his emotions bled through.

The next message she sent was Blue from
Blue’s Clues
.
Isn’t it time to get out of the Thinking Chair?

That got a reaction. She’d been afraid he’d somehow snuck out of the cabin despite Ben and Chela sniffing for traces of him, his emotions were that quiet.

No.
But she could sense he was wavering. By proving she was goofy, she was making herself human again. She needed him to see her as human first, wolf second, even if that wasn’t always true.

If you came out, we could finally go to dinner.
A picture of Lady and the Tramp eating spaghetti followed her text.

Silence again, but this time she felt more amusement than anything else. When her cell phone dinged, she looked at the image and broke into laughter.

He’d sent her Snuffles, from Quick Draw McGraw, pointing toward his open mouth to beg for a dog biscuit.

Just you, though. No one else.

She didn’t need to even think about her response.
Yes.
Hell to the yes. Have her mate all to herself over food? That was a no-brainer.
What would you like to eat? I can have someone bring something over, or we can meet in Lowell’s.

The answer was swift.
We’ll eat here. I’m not sure I want to head into the lodge right now.

Well. That suited her plans down to a T. She had every intention of giving him the mating bite tonight, changing him into one of them and marking him as hers for the rest of eternity. From the way Ben shivered as she grinned, it was probably a good thing Steve couldn’t see her expression. She typed quickly, knowing she had to head back to the lodge and start on her plans for the evening.

Works for me.

Steve flinched at the knock on the door. Sure, he’d agreed to dinner with Graciela, but part of him was still wondering if running wasn’t the better option.

Of course, with his luck,
he’d
become dinner. He’d seen the movies, read the novels. They’d kill him to keep their secret safe.

No matter how cute the girl was, he still wasn’t sure it was worth it.

“Steve?”

He stared at the door, his heart pounding. He’d agreed to this, said yes against his better judgment, and now she was here.

There was a fucking werewolf at his door.

A cute one, but still.

“Steve? I have steaks.”

He huffed out a breath. She sounded wary, like someone who was trying to gentle a frightened kitten.

He didn’t want to be that kitten. He wanted his life back.

He went up to the door and opened it, determined to face her once and for all. “I’m not sure about this.”

She stared up at him, her gaze full of sorrow. “I swear, I won’t hurt you.” She was twisting a bit of ski jacket between her gloved fingers. Her dark hair was back in a bouncy ponytail, making her eyes seem huge.

Shit. It was hard to be frightened of someone wearing bright pink plaid and looking like he’d kicked her puppy.

She nodded toward a cart loaded with covered plates and a bottle of wine. “Food?”

He glanced behind her, making sure she was alone.
Pfft. As if a freakin’ werewolf couldn’t hide from me.
“You promise you’re alone?”

She nodded solemnly. “I give you my word as Omega.”

That declaration had weight to it, her voice more serious than anything he’d heard from her yet. “Okay.”

The smile he got as reward was stunning. He opened the door wider so she could start carting in the food. “You need help?”

Another unbearably sweet smile that pulled at his heart. God, she was so sweet he wanted to cuddle her. “Nope. I’ve got it.” She looked down, her expression turning puzzled. “I thought you hated the cold?”

“Yeah, I’m not fond of it. Why?”

“You’re barefoot.”

“And?”

She went back out for the second plate. “Aren’t your feet cold?”

He shrugged. “I prefer to be barefoot indoors. Always have, ever since I was a kid.” It was the first thing he did when he got home after a long day at the office. The shoes got kicked off, the socks thrown in the hamper, rain or shine, hot or cold. She wasn’t the first person who’d commented on it, and she probably wouldn’t be the last.

She just shook her head, carting in the last of the food before closing the door. She took off the bright pink ski jacket and hung it next to his red coat.

He ignored how right they looked next to each other, the calm certainty that her coat was right where it belonged.

She’d worn a pair of jeans that should be illegal, the way they hugged her curves. The sweater was a warm cinnamon shade that made her skin glow. And, unlike a lot of the women Steve had dated in New York, she’d kept the makeup to a minimum, wearing just enough to make her eyes sparkle and her lips look wet and inviting.

He hoped he’d be able to keep his desire under control, but as she bent over, setting the table, those jeans stretched across her ass like an invitation to sin.

Werewolf, Steve. Were. Wolf.

Her shy smile as she set the table had his inner voice whimpering. He cleared his throat. “So. The wolf thing.” She grimaced, the smile disappearing, and he almost let it drop.

Almost.

“Yeah. I’ve always been a Wolf.” He could hear her emphasis on the word wolf, and wondered at it. “I was born this way.”

He shuffled his feet. Part of him wanted to get closer, to see if she smelled as sweet as she looked. The other part wanted to remain by the door in case she went all
The Howling
on his ass. “So all wolves are born?”

She shook her head, looking around the kitchen until she spotted what she wanted. “Nope.” She tucked an uncovered plate into the microwave, her fingers flying over the buttons. “A Wolf can be made, but most in this Pack were born.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. “Ben’s been one forever, then.” Once the true fear had worn off, he’d felt betrayed. He understood, but that didn’t make the feeling go away. This was a huge secret, but it was one he would have been willing to keep for his best friend.

She stared at him for a moment, ignoring the microwave when it beeped. “Ben couldn’t tell you. The Alpha wouldn’t allow it.”

He scowled. “And Ben always does what his Alpha says?”

Her brows rose. “You’ve met our Alpha? Rick Lowell? Big, scary-ass dude with long red hair and a scar on his cheek?”

Okay. She had a point. “But what about when we were kids? Why didn’t he tell me then?” Hell, he never would have been able to keep something like that a secret, especially from Ben.

She shrugged. “We’re taught from an early age to hide what we are from humans. I mean, would
you
want to wind up in an underground government laboratory, being vivisected?”

“That shit doesn’t really happen,” he scoffed.

She stayed silent, her gaze on him weary.

“Seriously?”

She nodded. “It happened once, a long time ago, but in the private sector.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Let’s just say that some very useful drugs on the market today weren’t found by accident and leave it at that.”

He took a step into the room as she took one plate out of the microwave and set the other in. “So you guys really do heal super-fast?”

She shook her head. “Nope. That’s all a myth. The legends all say that, but the truth is we’re just people. We scar, we get diseases, we get broken bones that don’t magically get better when we shift shape. We’re a little bit stronger, a little bit more resistant, and our senses are sharper than a normal human’s, but that’s about it.”

“And you get fuzzy around the full moon.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Myth. We can run in our Wolf form whenever we want.”

“Silver bullets?”

“Myth. Regular bullets work just fine, thanks.”

“Wolf’s bane?”

“Ugh. Myth. That shit’s poisonous to everyone.”

“Drinking water out of an animal print to change you into a wolf?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Ew.”

“Wearing a belt of wolf skin under a full moon?”

“Where did you read this stuff?”

He felt his skin flush and just knew he was blushing. He’d had a lot of time in the last few days to surf the Internet. “Wikipedia.”

She giggled. “Well, stop. The only way to change someone is to bite them. We release a special enzyme that mutates the DNA of the bitee.”

“Sounds painful.”

“I understand it can be, under the wrong circumstances. Most people are changed with the mating bite, and I understand that’s…” She smiled, the expression sultry. “Fun.”

He cleared his throat again. He didn’t want to think of her and
fun
right now, not when he was still vaguely wigged out. “Are you guys allergic to chocolate, like real canines?”

She lifted her brows and the lid on the one plate she hadn’t stuck in the microwave. Instead of the salad he half expected, there was a rich, decadent-looking Black Forest cherry cake. “Human, remember? We’re people who shift into animals, not animals who shift into humans.”

“Are
any
of the myths true?”

She set the warmed-up plates on the kitchen table, the smell of the meat and potatoes filling the small cabin. “We see well in the dark, better than a human does, but only when we shift our eyes to our wolf’s.”

He took a step closer, drawn by the easy way she spoke and the hunger that gnawed at his belly. Since he’d holed up in the cabin, he’d been living off granola bars and bottled water. “What about the whole man-wolf thing? Is that real?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Tigers do that.”

“T-tigers?” There were more of them?

Graciela didn’t seem to notice his unease. “Yup. The rest of us just turn into animals.” She finished getting all the food prepared while she spoke. “There are Wolves, and Pumas and Tigers, and lots of other shifters out there, each with a unique gift. And the one who rules over us all is the Leo.”

“Who?”

“The Leo.” She took a seat, her hands on the table where he could clearly see them. It was obvious she was doing her best to make sure he was as comfortable as possible with her presence. “He rules over all shifter kind. He’s always a Lion, and he runs the Senate, the ruling body of shifters. He’s the only white Lion shifter, and he has the ability to order even an Alpha like Rick around. So when that white Lion is born, they park his ass on the throne and pray he’s not a complete
cabrón
.”

He gulped and sat down at the table with less grace than he’d planned. “I thought I heard a mountain lion the other night.”

She nodded. “Remember Belle? She’s a Puma. There’s a town a few hours away that’s run by Pumas, and it has a college campus nearby. Several different types of shifters go there, as it’s one of the few campuses in an area that’s shifter-run in the United States.”

“How many of you are there?”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure. That’s not one of my jobs, you know? But probably more than you’d believe, less than you fear. We’re just people, Steve, trying to live our lives like everyone else.”

“No, I meant how many different kinds? Wererabbits? Weresharks?” He shivered. “Weredinosaurs?”

She picked up her knife and fork, gesturing for him to do the same. He did, trying to ignore how badly his hands were shaking again. At least he didn’t think he was in danger of passing out this time. “Well, there are Wolves and Pumas, Foxes, Bears—”

“Bears? Like, grizzlies?”