Rosko, Mandy - Mate of the Wolf (Siren Publishing Classic) (9 page)

Shelley smiled when Michael yipped and trotted over, big smile back on his yap. She bent down to scratch his ears when he rubbed against her like a cat.

“Yeah, I missed you, too,” she said when he licked her face. “Let’s go inside.”

Michael yipped again and followed her, nails clicking on the floorboards. Shelley didn’t know how long it would take for him to change back, but if it was as long as before, she’d definitely be able to go another round before the sun went down, and maybe even get the chain removed.

Michael hopped into the bed where they’d made love, sniffed, circled, and settled down while she picked up his T-shirt from the floor and put it on. It went down to her midthigh. She thought it looked good on her.

She raised the cotton to her nose, smelled, and grinned. The scent was completely his.

Michael yipped at her impatiently, tail thumping the mattress.

“All right, I’m coming.” She put her knees on the bed and settled in, scratching Michael’s ears when he placed his front paws over her belly. Protectively? Possessively?

Because she’d gotten more than enough sleep already, having another nap was not an option. But her body was a little achy and in need of rest, so Shelley leaned back against the headboard and passed the time stroking Michael’s neck and ears, happier than she ever felt.

Chapter Seven

Shelley jerked back into reality at the sound of Michael’s low growl.

It seemed to be taking Michael a bit longer than last time to change back, so she’d gone snooping again. She’d found a book to read in his nightstand, and although spy thrillers weren’t her thing, between putting on dabs of the skin cream on her chained ankle, she’d gotten lost in the story until Michael jolted her out.

He still lay half on top of her, and she felt the vibrations of the sound all over her before she even looked at him.

His eyes were glowing, lips pulled up to reveal his teeth on his long face, which was bent low. His hackles were raised so high it was like a mohawk was running down his back.

He glared and snarled at the open door.

She’d left it open to let in a stronger breeze than what his windows would allow. It hadn’t bothered him before.

Shelley threaded her fingers through Michael’s raised hair, attempting to lower it as she shifted him off and climbed out of bed. “Shh, hey, there’s nothing there.”

Michael didn’t calm down. He barked and leapt from the bed, standing in front of her and still snarling in the direction of the door, mohawk raised high again.

Fear chilled Shelley’s blood. Was there something out there she couldn’t see? An animal?

She sighed as the thought came to her. Yes, of course. There was an animal outside. It was dark now, so it made sense that all the critters would come out. Maybe another wolf, or even—she shivered—a bear. Maybe it sniffed the crumbs of food still on the table.

Shelley stepped around Michael. “Don’t worry, I’ll shut the—hey!”

Michael charged for the door before she could take a step. His nails skidding against the floor didn’t hinder his strength as he crashed his shoulder into the doorframe, taking it with him as he charged into the night.

“Michael!” Shelley ran outside after him, the night air cool against her skin and bare feet. She stopped when the chain pulled her back.

Then her stomach dropped, and for once, she was glad for the shackle around her ankle. Without it, she would have run into the dark trees with him, right where whatever creature it was that he’d run after in the first place lurked.

Michael’s barking in the distance sounded farther and farther away. Shelley had to force herself back in the cabin, reminding herself that, as a werewolf, he could take care of himself.

Unlike her, as a chained-up woman, she couldn’t defend herself at all should something come for her.

She stopped at the splintered wood of the doorframe, reached out, and touched it.

Such strength. It was nuts. Some of his fur had been pulled out by the splinters.

Shelley squinted at the silver tuft of hair and pulled it free. Up close, turning it this way and that in the artificial light, it was so…shiny. Like real silver. But that could be a normal color for werewolves for all she knew.

Smiling secretively, she rolled her fingers and balled the bit of hair, opened her heart locket, and placed it inside.

She doubted the door would close on its own now. She’d have to put a chair under the knob. She grabbed one and did so. She tested it, and it held.

Shelley sighed. She turned back to the bed, deciding to read until he came back, hoping the paperback would take her mind off the worry she felt, until a banging knock sounded against the door.

Shelley jumped three feet in the air and turned.

Back? Already?

The knocking pounded like a hammer on the door. No bear could make that sound. She rushed to take the chair away as the knob started to jiggle.

“I’m coming! Just a sec!”

She shoved the chair aside, grin on her face as she readied to tell Michael why she needed to put it there to begin with.

She threw open the door, and her grin melted away.

Not Michael. A woman stood there. She was as tall as Shelley, but thinner.
Way
thinner. So much so that her chest was flat, she had no hips to speak of, and her cheeks were hollow. She was almost sickly looking.

Probably was. Shelley knew all about eating disorders, and this chick definitely had one.

Despite the lack of a shapely body, and the out-of-the-way location, she wore a dark blue miniskirt and matching tank with a skull sewn into the fabric, black platform shoes, and she had…purple hair?

Wondering if she was lost, Shelley opened the door wider but kept her body half hidden behind it, wishing she’d taken the time to at least put her bra back on under Michael’s T-shirt. “Um, can I help you?”

Eerily mismatched eyes stared at her, then around her, then toward the bed. The woman said nothing. She just…studied the inside of the cabin. One of her eyes was a pale blue. The other was gray, and it shone just as bright as the moon would have if it had been out.

Shelley shivered. What was this woman doing out here in the dark? Was she running from whatever Michael was chasing? Her clothes didn’t give any hint of that, though. She looked like she just finished prepping for a party. Her hair was perfectly straight, not a strand out of place, and her clothes were neat. Not at all like what they should look like had she been running through the trees. Shelley knew all about
that
.

The strange woman still hadn’t answered her. Shelley closed the door just a little. “Hey, hello? Are you lost?”

The woman’s blue and gray eyes finally met hers. “I am. Would you invite me inside?”

Shelley didn’t know what to say to that, but all the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and she was getting goose bumps up and down her arms. That wasn’t how a frightened woman, lost and alone in the woods, should act. “Uh, maybe you should wait outside, at least until my…boyfriend comes back…from getting firewood. He can help you get home,” Shelley said.

If this was a vampire, then she couldn’t come in until invited.

The woman pressed her hand to the wooden door and pushed it open against Shelley’s weight and took a step inside.

“Hey!” Shelley said, trying to push her back out, but she must have been as strong as Michael for all the good it did.

The woman’s gray eye shined brightly. “I shan’t be long.”

Shelley didn’t think she’d ever heard anyone use the word
shan’t
. It wasn’t like she had a foreign accent or anything, suggesting English wasn’t her mother tongue. She sounded pretty much the same as Shelley did. This girl definitely wasn’t normal, and neither was the way she was looking around at the rosaries on the walls, crinkling her little nose at them, and then at Shelley. Then her eyes traveled down to the chain at her ankle.

Shit, shit, shit. She’d totally forgotten about it.

Goth-girl actually smiled at it.

Shelley straightened her back, trying to make herself look as tall as possible next to the open door. This woman may or may not be a vampire, but she could still be a dangerous psycho. “I’d like you to leave, now.”

The purple-haired woman glanced up at her, creepy smile still in place. Shelley caught the hint of long, pointed teeth through her grin.

“I believe I’ll stay.” She lunged.

Shelley barely had time to tense in fear. The woman moved like the wind and had those teeth in Shelley’s neck before she had the chance to gasp for breath. Shelley was treated to the odd sensation of being paralyzed and feeling the blood rush out of her like a river.

No. That wasn’t right. She wasn’t cut and bleeding all over the place. This woman was sucking the blood out of her.

“Pearl!”

The sucking motion abruptly stopped, and for a minute Shelley thought Pearl became paralyzed as well at the sound of Michael’s enraged voice.

So this was Pearl, the woman Michael was hiding from. But he said she wasn’t a problem. How did she find this place?

Pearl’s teeth pulled from Shelley’s skin and stared at the man who filled the doorway. Shelley couldn’t turn her head, but he was in her peripheral vision, and her heart leapt at the sight of him.

He took a menacing step into the cabin, human again, feet and chest bare. He was wearing a pair of jeans. Likely he kept pairs of them in his truck, or even hidden around the forest, should he need them. But being half naked as he was only served to show off his big muscles, clenching with rage.

“You let her go,” he growled, and although he’d just changed back from wolf to man, Shelley could see his fingernails elongating to claws, the dark hairs on his arms thickening, preparing for another transformation.

Pearl cupped Shelley’s neck, caressing her skin as her teeth scraped along the already abused flesh. “You should’ve warned your woman. It’s her own fault really.”

Like there was anything Shelley could have done. She tried to pull away but whimpered when she couldn’t. Oh, God, if only she could move.

Peal’s nose inhaled long and deep along Shelley’s shoulder and up her neck. “I scented her blood in the forest and followed the trail.”

Shelley’s eyes went huge. Her foot. Her stupid bleeding foot from when she’d made a run for it and stepped on that twig led this woman right to the cabin. This was totally her fault.

Pearl laughed a little. “I only wished to have a snack before continuing my search. I never would have thought to find you holed up with another being like this.”

Michael took another step into the cabin, this one slower, less threatening. “This is between you and me. Let her go and we can talk. Come to an agreement.”

Enough feeling returned to Shelley’s body for her to feel Pearl pull her tighter against her flat chest, like a shield. “Unless that agreement involves you peeling the skin from your body and handing it over to me, there shall be no such talk.”

Shelley’s eyes widened. Peel the skin…? Was this woman crazy?

“Your woman is curious, monster,” Pearl said. “Will you explain why she is to be my feast, or shall I?”

Michael pursed his lips. “You’re not going to be anyone’s feast, Shelley. I’ll get you out of here, and nothing like this will ever happen to you again.”

Warm breath touched Shelley’s cheek. She brought her hand up to slap the woman’s face away, but her arm was still so weak that her palm didn’t get halfway to its target.