Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love (22 page)

Moving so fast he knew his motions would seem blurred to her, Hunter swept in and licked Melody’s throat and chin, whining low in his throat as he gave the warm, soft skin quick, almost dry dabs with his rough tongue.

“Hunter!” Melody tried to push him away.

“Stop that,” he murmured, catching her hands when she swatted at him. “I’m showing you submission. In fur form, a contrite wulf licks the neck and face of his Alpha, keeping his head below the higher ranked wulf.”

“Submission, huh?” she questioned, eyeing the prominent bulge pushing out the stiff material at his groin.

Hunter grinned, canting his hips to showcase his erection. He knew how much she liked knowing she lit his fire. “Can I help it if showing throat to you turns me on?”

Mel pushed at his shoulders. “You better keep that anaconda tucked between your legs and get moving. I don’t have time to play dominance games with you, now.”

Hunter could feel heat pouring from his eyes and knew they’d gone molten gold. “Does that mean we get to play later? This time, I’ll let you tie me up ...”

“We’ll see,” she said, shifting Blair on her hip and averting her head.

Her true response flooded his nostrils, and he drank in the sweet, syrupy smell of the cream slicking her panties. Her eyes came up and locked with his, color flaming beneath the dark skin of her cheeks. The cozy smell of baby and the rich scent of desire swirled about her, making him think of family and den, making him want to burrow deep into the only place he felt truly at home -- inside Melody.

Buford pressed against his jeans, strained the zipper almost to the breaking point.

Driven past discretion, he glanced about, hunting for a private place where he could act on both their lust. He almost howled when Andrea stuck her head out the window, disrupting the moment and calling him back to reality. She beckoned him over and whispered, “Uncle Hunter, where’s that wulf?”

For a moment, he had no idea who she asked after, his mind was that preoccupied with the frustration of not being able to throw Melody down and fuck her right there on the bridge in front of God and the country. Then it dawned on him Andrea meant Chase.

Replace “that,” with the word “mine,” and the sentence sounded just about right.

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Unable to resist teasing her, Hunter leaned down into the window. “Your wulf is in the limo, staying in phone contact with Kerry”

“Why?”

He noticed the teenager didn’t dispute his words. The teen Breed knew Chase was her mate. “Kerry and Aricles -- you must always address him as Kyrios Aricles -- went back to the east coast to find a male troll for ... Tracy”

“Why?”

“Tracy is in troll heat. She’s looking for a mate, but there are no male trolls in San Francisco. At least, I’ve never seen one or heard tell of one in this vicinity.”

“No,” she said, sounding impatient, “I meant, why did your team member have to go along, and why do I have to address him as lord?”

“Oh. Aricles is a demi-god and takes his title seriously. You don’t want to piss him off.

As to why he went with Kerry, well, one of his powers is instantaneous relocation. As long as he’s in physical contact with another, he can teleport them along with him. If we had to wait for Kerry to catch a plane going and coming, no matter how fast, it would be too late to keep most of this from out of the public eye. Whatever the outcome, we have to get this done tonight. Besides, can you see Kerry trying to get a troll onboard a plane?”

Andrea cautiously opened the car door. She glanced about, almost fearful. “I don’t want him coming near me,” she told Hunter, sidling up to him, slipping a hand in his larger one.

“Don’t let him talk to me, okay?”

Hunter curled his fingers around her hand. “He’ll stay in the car, honey. I’ve already told him I’d kick his mangy hide if he got within sniffing range of you. I’m mad at him, too.”

Her small fingers tightened about his. He could smell the acrid rise of her sharp fear.

“Don’t kill him, Uncle. I’m not that mad.”

Swallowing a grin, Hunter turned his head so she wouldn’t see his knowing smirk. He didn’t want to alienate this budding young woman. She would be a formidable bitch when she reached maturity. “Not to worry, youngling. I have no intention of killing him. He’s like a brother to me. Right now, we’ll just pretend he’s an omega. It’s okay to ignore an omega, and if he gets too close, we nip him.”

Andrea nodded sagely. “He needs nipping for trying to put his penis in Aunt Melody.

That belongs to me.”

This time, it was Hunter’s fingers tightening in helpless reaction. He stopped squeezing before she yelped. “Let’s not bring that up again. I might change my mind about having to kill him.”

She looked up into his face, and he tried to soften what he knew had to be a harsh expression. He barely managed it. “You’re still mad.”

Hunter heaved a deep sigh. “You bet.” He hunkered down, squatting to get to her level.

“Look, I want to thank you for what you did. If you hadn’t talked to me, I would have killed Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love

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Chase, and if I did that, I’d be sorry. I’m glad you and Melody stopped me, but I am still angry. Very angry. So watch what you say for a while, deal?”

Her dark brown eyes, so like her mother’s, twinkled at him. “Deal,” she said, lips widening in a wicked grin as she continued, “but it’s okay if you want to scare him a bit -- a lot.”

Hunter threw back his head, howling with laughter. Damn, even as a girl, this bitch was formidable. He couldn’t wait to see how she turned out. “Oh, I’m gonna keep doing that, Andi. Believe it!”

* * * * *

The petite Hispanic crossed herself and nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s do this!”

She gathered up the bags of beauty supplies, passed the battery-operated hair dryer to Mel, and hefted the rest. “I told Fort to run a heavy-duty extension cord as close to the perimeter as he could. I hope that we’ll be able to coax Tracy toward the edge of her barrier.”

“That should work,” Melody replied, fighting the butterflies in her stomach. “I tossed a couple of extra cords in one of the bags. They should reach ...”

Could we be wrong about everyth ng?

i

The closer they got to troll central, the more

Melody worried.

What if the troll -- Tracy -- didn’t react like they thought she would? She would die if she really was taking Blair into danger. Then again, she’d die before she let the troll hurt one curly hair on Blair’s head.

“Screw this!” she said aloud, exchanging glances with Rosa. “I know what we saw. I have pretty good instincts where people are concerned. Did I ever tell you I was a wonderful preacher’s wife?” She straightened up and walked faster. “Well, I was. Everyone said I was very compassionate and understanding, and I helped a lot of housewives spruce up their appearance in an attempt to save their marriages. A lot were successful, too.”

“I have total faith in you,” Rosa replied, clutching the bags to her chest. She kept a cautious step behind Melody as they drew nearer to the troll.

“Sure you do” Mel mocked, noticing how her sidekick held back. “You got the walkie-talkie?”

“Yep, right here.” Rosa fumbled a bag before righting it and taking out a small hand-unit.

“Turn it on and drop it back in the bag. We don’t want to talk on it, just want Hunter and the others to hear what’s going on like we promised.”

Rosa did what Melody instructed, smiling as she reported, “Done.”

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“Okay, here we go.” Melody drew a deep breath and let it out in a soundless whistle.

“Good luck!”

“Luck?” Rosa grinned. “We don’t need no stinkin’ luck!”

From out of the bag, the tinny voice of Fortrayn said, “Famous last words ...”

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“Hi. Hello, I’m Melody.”

Mel patted her chest, indicating herself. She pointed at Rosa. “That is Rosa.”

Rosa waved. “Hi, Tracy, nice to meet you.”

The troll’s song or wail ceased. Her head whipped around to peer at Melody, then Rosa

“This is Blair. Say hi, Blair,” Melody coaxed.

Her son waved wildly. “Hi, Oscar!” he shouted, clapping his hands and laughing.

“By damn, the boy’s right. The troll does look like Oscar the Grouch f om Sesame r

Street.”

“You keep making comments, I’m gonna turn that damn thing off.” Rosa threatened on a quiet hiss. “Your voice is upsetting the troll. She has good hearing.”

She did, indeed. Tracy’s shaggy head had snapped up, her wide mouth parting in a growl as she tried to pinpoint the intruding male voice.

Melody had a moment of resentment, wondering why Blair would talk to the troll and still resisted speaking to her. Putting the disturbing thought aside to ponder later, she weaved in front of the troll, trying to recapture her attention. “Hey, we’re over here, Tracy.

Hello!”

The female swung her head back toward Melody, seemingly fascinated with baby Blair.

Snaking her head forward, she shuffled a step ... two steps ... closer to her barrier, eyes locked on the small black toddler. A chirping grunt sounded, a question raising the inflection at the end.

“This is my son,” Melody crooned low and quiet. She eased the boy to the ground in front of her, keeping one hand on his shoulder. “Blair, wave hi again.”

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Her son, the flirt, waved and smiled, flashing dimples in a white-toothed grin so engaging she didn’t see how any female could resist him. The troll was not immune to the small kid magnet. She hunkered down, muddy brown eyes moving rapidly back and forth over the child’s frame, curiosity so palpable one could taste it on the air.

“Rosa, get the pictures.”

Melody’s sotto voce command galvanized the other woman. She set one bag down, reached into the bulging grocery sack and pulled out a sheaf of before and after advertisements. Edging carefully over to the clearly demarked circle, Rosa held up one after another of the glamour makeover records. “Hope she gets the drift of what we want to do,”

she said out the side of her mouth.

The pictures didn’t seem to mean anything to Tracy. She eyed them, pupils flicking from each picture, back to the women, her expression blank and growing blanker. Just when it seemed they had failed at the first, basic communication hurdle, Tracy let out a surprised snort and snatched a picture from a startled Rosa’s hand.

Melody strained to see which picture had caught Tracy’s interest and almost choked on the irony of the situation. It was the one they’d included only as a joke, intending to remove it from the stack before leaving. The one of cousin “It” from the Addams Family showing his unkempt, tangled mass before Morticia cleaned him up for a date with a human woman. The second half of the picture showed “It” all spiffed up, hair cascading in a shining, gleaming lustrous fall.

“Blurp?” Tracy fingered her tangled, stringy hair, head canted to the side. The startled hope in her muck-colored eyes was heart-wrenching.

Melody nodded emphatically. “Yes, we can help you to look ...” She faltered and then rallied. “... sorta like that.” She exchanged a frantic glance with Rosa. What had they gotten themselves into?

Swallowing hard, she gathered all her courage and stepped across the invisible line. Her hand tightened on Blair’s as she tugged him after her.

The troll stiffened, looking uncertain. A low rumbling hum started in her barrel chest and Melody froze in place -- one foot literally in the air -- waiting anxiously to see what the troll’s next move might be.

Far from taking an aggressive stance, the troll backed up hurriedly, as if Melody and her small child had frightened her. Stomach roiling with nerves, Melody smiled again, held out a hand low, palm up. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. Would you like to shake hands?”

It seemed an incomprehensible notion to the troll, so Melody enlisted her son’s help.

“Blair, shake Mommy’s hand, hon, so we can show her how it’s done.”

Her heart melted with pride as her son grinned up at her, gamely shaking her hand, not showing an ounce of trepidation at being so close to a creature that had caused grown Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love

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men to shake with fear. Feeling more at ease, she turned back to the watching female. “Okay, Tracy, your turn!”

The troll chirruped and shuffled forward, her ham-fisted hand shooting out at the last minute ... not to Melody, but to Blair.

Oh, damn, I should have clarified better, Melody thought, watching in horror as Blair shot past her to grasp the troll’s outstretched hand. One moment, the toddler stood at her side, a little to the rear, the next, he was scrambling up the huge body of the troll, using her as a giant jungle-gym.

The troll twisted and arched, hands patting her fur, each time a second too late to capture the wiry little tyke clinging to her shoulders or swinging from her arm.

A distant howl, frantic and pain-filled rose on the air and Mel knew her mate was rushing toward them. She could just visualize how his arrival would disrupt the delicate balance. Using mind-speak, she ordered him back.

If you bust in here, howling, and scare her, we will lose the opportunity. Use your eyes, damn it. Blair is fine!

She sensed, rather than saw Hunter slow down, considering the veracity of her reasoning. It helped that Blair chose that moment to throw back his head and howl with glee, an obvious call to play, not a cry for help. He was having a fine time, the naughty scamp!

Cub! Hunter’s howl was a rising cry on the clear evening air.

Daddy, Blair play with Oscar! Their son obviously felt no threat from the troll. “Giddy up, Oscar!”

Melody’s knees went weak, and she sat right down on the street. Everything had happened so fast, her heart and fear was just catching up with the events. It could have been a disaster. Thank god, the troll and Blair had a better understanding than the adults did. She didn’t mind using their connection.