Wolf with Benefits (8 page)

“And how did you know all that about Jessie Ann’s past?” he asked.

“Oh,” she said while Ricky leaned in a bit and reached around her to tie the sling at the back of her neck. “There are these things called comp-poo-tors and when you ask the comp-poo-tors questions, the box gives you answers!”

Ricky stepped back and saw her wicked little smile.

“Look at you, darlin’,” he teased back. “Flirtin’ with me.”

She laughed and Ricky knew then he’d just been charmed by a She-jackal. And the good Lord knew it had been a long time since Ricky had been charmed by anyone.

 

Jess Ward peeked around the open door to, she’d admit, spy on her adopted son and that jackal. In the relatively short time she’d had Johnny in her home, she’d fired two music teachers, punched another one in the face, and threatened to set another on fire. The last two her mate, Bobby Ray Smith, had handled paying off himself because he refused to visit her in prison. But some of these teachers were just rude! She got it. Okay? She understood. This was a tough business and one needed a thick skin. Blah blah blah.

Yes, she understood all that. But what these teachers didn’t get was that Johnny had already had a hard life. His biological mother had died when he was thirteen. Then he was bounced around from foster home to foster home until he landed with Jess’s Pack. So yeah, she was protective of him. And although she’d appreciated the honesty of the damaged-shouldered She-jackal in her kitchen who had one of the Reed boys wrapped around her like a boa constrictor, that still did not mean Jess was okay with Toni’s mother. Especially when she was pretty damn sure the woman only got that dog to finagle her way into Jess’s good graces.

Jess hated tricky shit like that.

So yes, she was spying. And sure, Johnny was eighteen now so she should be able to trust his judgment. But boys were stupid, something she’d learned at a very young age.

Jess could see the pair sitting on the floor of Johnny’s practice room. For a fifty-something internationally known musician who’d played on the
Tonight Show,
and before the Queen of England, Jacqueline Jean-Louis sure was casual. She had on ripped jeans and a band T-shirt . . . oooh. The B-52s. Okay. So she had good musical taste outside of the classical stuff. That was nice to see. She also wore sneakers that had seen better days. She sat Indian style, her elbows resting on her knees while Johnny stared at her like Marilyn Monroe was in the room.

“When did you first start playing?” the She-jackal asked Johnny.

“My mom got me my first violin when I was five.”

“Why? Did she just want you to learn an instrument?”

“No. I asked for it. I saw Itzhak Perlman play on PBS and I wanted to learn to play like that.”

“How often do you practice?”

“Every day. This used to be my mom’s bedroom. My adopted mom, I mean. Jess. But when she mated with Smitty, she took one of the rooms downstairs and turned this into a practice room for me so I could practice whenever I want rather than worrying about booking time in practice rooms away from the house.”

“This Pack, your Pack, has been super supportive of your music, haven’t they?”

A small smile curled the corners of Johnny’s mouth. “Yeah. They have.”

“What if they hadn’t been?”

He shrugged. “I’d play anyway. I got thrown out of one of my foster homes because I practiced too much. Well . . . that and I snarled at one of the other kids when he was trying to take my Twinkie, but my God, it was
my
Twinkie.”

She laughed. “Don’t feel bad. I was performing with a quartet in Australia once and I ended up hitting the cello player with another player’s flute because his nose was making this high-pitched whistling sound. Full-humans have no idea how those kinds of noises irritate sensitive dog ears. It’s like nails on a chalkboard.”

“Can I ask you something, Miss Jean-Louis?”

“If you call me Jackie, you can ask me.”

“Why are you here?”

“I know you’re starting Juilliard in the fall and I thought maybe I could work with you this summer. Get you ready. You’ll be dealing with some serious competition at Juilliard. And those full-humans can be mean. I get that they are competitive, but telling me I have
birthing
hips? Who says that to a woman? I mean, I
do
have birthing hips but that’s not the point. What I want to do with you is teach you to control your natural and correct instinct to tear out the arteries of someone who says you have birthing hips and instead, calmly blow them away with your talent. Because let me tell you—the full-humans
hate
that.”

Johnny leaned back a bit, big brown eyes blinking. Jess saw him swallow before he asked, “You want to work with me?”

“Yes.”

“Me?”

The She-jackal grinned. “Yes. You. Is that really so hard to believe?”

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

“Johnny, you’re good.”

“I know I’m good. But you’re . . . you’re . . . you’re friggin’ Jacqueline Jean-Louis.
The
Jacqueline Jean-Louis. I have all your CDs. I’ve watched every documentary PBS has ever had on you and your CBS Christmas special three years back.”

“And I’ve heard you play,” she said, keeping it simple. Jess liked that.

Jacqueline got to her feet and Johnny scrambled up to his own. Now he towered over the jackal, like the big wolf he was growing into.

“Look,” she told him, “think about it. Talk it over with your mom. I’m right across the street for the rest of the summer.” Something Jess had argued against. But her Pack wouldn’t let her ignore the amount of money the Jean-Louis Parkers were willing to pay to rent the place across the street. Although, to be honest, Jess couldn’t ignore it, either. It was truly a shitload of money.

“And I’m talking a casual thing,” the jackal went on. “We get together, we play, we talk. We exchange ideas. I listen.”

“Well . . . um . . . I’ll talk to my mom.”

“That should be easy enough since she’s standing right outside the room, along with a good chunk of your Pack.”

Jess spun around and yes, at least ten of her Pack, including Sabina, May, Danny, and Phil, were standing right behind her.

“You guys!” Jess snarled.

They all shrugged and Jess rolled her eyes, then slowly eased into her old bedroom. Johnny lifted his hands and dropped them.
“Ma.”

“Don’t be mad at her.” The She-jackal smiled. “She loves you. She’s just watching out for you. I’m like that with my own kids—oh, my God!” she suddenly burst out, startling every canine in the room and the hallway. “My daughter! I completely forgot. And she takes it so personally when I do.” She turned and rushed toward the door. “She’s gonna kill me!”

While the jackal ran downstairs, Jess walked over to Johnny. “Sorry if we embarrassed you.”

“What’s this ‘we’ shit?” came from the hallway.

“Shut up, Phil!” Jess yelled back.

“She wants to work with me,” Johnny whispered to Jess. He gripped her hands tight.
“Me.”

Jess still didn’t know if she trusted that jackal—although because of her honesty, she did trust the jackal’s daughter—but none of that mattered. Because she wasn’t about to destroy her son’s obvious happiness and excitement. It was something he seemed to experience so rarely that Jess knew in her heart this was an important moment for him. One of those life-changing ones.

So if Johnny was happy about this, then Jess would be happy for him.

Grinning, Jess asked, “Now can I get you that Stradivarius violin they’re going to auction in Milan?”

Laughing, Johnny dropped her hands. “Ma,
no!
”

 

“Stop talking to me, Mom.”

“I said I was sorry!” Jackie told Toni. “What made you go diving in front of a truck anyway? The dog had cleared it.”

Ignoring her mother, Toni marched up the stairs of their rental home toward her bedroom. Coming down the stairs, her father stopped and stared at her. “Baby, what happened to your arm?”

“Ask your mate.”

“How can you blame me for this?” her mother called up.

“Still not talking to you!”

“I see you met your mother’s surprise.”

Toni glanced down and realized that the dog her mother had gotten was following Toni up the stairs.

“Why is this dog following me?” she called down the stairs.

“If you don’t want her, I’ll just take her back to the pound,” her mother replied. “Of course . . . they were about to put her down. But that shouldn’t bother you.”

“Oh! You are just . . . Oh!” Toni began up the stairs again. As she moved, her siblings were coming down, but one look at her face and they all glanced away and kept going. When she got to her bedroom, she stopped and turned. “Why are
you
following me?” she finally asked the wolf behind her.

“Because we agreed. I’m hanging with you today.”

“My father just let you come up here to my room?”

“Yeah. I think it was my charm.”

“More like Coop ran over here and told my dad about you.”

He shrugged. “Whatever works. So what are we doing today?”

“I’ve got to get ready for an interview at ten.”

“Okay.”

She stepped into her room but faced him once more before he could invite himself in.

“Why don’t you go downstairs and wait until I’m done.”

“Okay.” He stared at her a moment, and asked, “Any chance your momma is making waffles for breakfast?”

With great relish, Toni replied, “Not a chance in hell.”

Then she closed the door on his disappointed face and got ready for her interview.

T
oni had been waiting forty-five minutes for her interview, but she didn’t mind. She had a book. As long as she had something to read, Toni could self-entertain for hours. It was a gift she had.

Still, she did wonder if there really was some sort of problem going on that kept Ulrich Van Holtz and the hockey team’s coach too busy to meet with her. Or were they just trying to find a way to break it to her nicely that they didn’t even think she could manage the office copier? Not that she blamed them. Except for the occasional volunteer position, she’d never had a real job. Not anything she could put on a résumé.

Then again, she was probably just being paranoid and insecure. They couldn’t all be away trying to figure out what to do with her, and even the snooty bobcat receptionist wasn’t around.

She glanced over to her right.

The wolf, though, was still sitting there. Quietly. Staring at the wall across from them. He didn’t look bored. Or annoyed. Or angry. Just . . . calm.

She hadn’t said a word to him. Not because she was upset with him but because she was curious to see how long he could go without talking to her. She’d thought he would have gotten fed up by now and found a very nice way to leave. She couldn’t see him storming out in a huff. That didn’t seem to be his way. But politely finding an exit strategy? Yeah. That seemed more his style.

She finally had to ask, “You’re not bored?”

“Not at all.”

“Really?”

“I’ve found that if you wait long enough . . . the entertainment often comes to you. You just have to be patient.”

“Okay, but it may be awhile. I don’t know when—”

“That’s fine. I’ll just keep on sittin’ here . . . lookin’ pretty.” He grinned at her, showing those perfect white teeth. “Enticing you with my charm.”

At that point, all Toni could do was cross her eyes and go back to her book. But just as she’d settled in, the bobcat receptionist returned. He charged in through the glass door, barely glancing at her or the wolf as he passed.

Toni sat up straight, not knowing if the receptionist would be part of the hiring process, and said, “Hi. I’m here to see—”

“Yeah, yeah.” He dismissed her with a shake of his head while he grabbed a messenger bag from under his desk. He had it in his fist and was just moving around the desk when the glass door was thrown open and the hockey player from the day before, Novikov, stood there. He wasn’t in his training gear, but in jeans and a T-shirt, a duffel bag over his shoulder. And even though she didn’t know the man very well, Toni could say with great confidence that he was definitely seething.

“What,” Novikov began, spitting out the words through clenched teeth, “do you not understand about a schedule?”

Uh-oh.
Toni remembered her brother Troy beginning a conversation with his onetime babysitter. Afterward, the babysitter sued for medical bills and pain and suffering, plus got a restraining order against her brother. In the end the family settled with her out of court. At the time, Troy was six and weighed about thirty pounds.

Novikov was thirty something and at least four hundred plus pounds . . . so this situation could easily end up much worse.

Trying to defend himself, the bobcat began, “I did what you ask—”

“No!” Novikov cut the cat off. “You didn’t do what I asked. Because if you’d done what I’d asked, I’d be surprising my fiancée in Chicago with the wonder that is me. And later tonight, I’d be watching a bout with her and a bunch of other hot girls racing around a banked track in tight shorts and tank tops and pretending it’s a sport. Instead, since last night, I’ve been in Iowa. Then Kentucky. Then Minnesota. None of which had my fiancée, but did have grizzlies. Lots and lots of really pissy grizzlies! Who aren’t fans of polar bears
or
lion males!
And I’m both!
”

In the face of that roar, the bobcat backed up against the wall behind him, his messenger bag held against his chest. “I just got your schedule confused with Markowitz’s. It was an accident.”

“Wait a minute . . . you’re telling me that Markowitz is in Chicago? With
my
fiancée?”

“I doubt he’s
with
Blayne.”

“Does Blayne know you got the schedules mixed up?”

“Well, she called—”

“Which means,” the hybrid growled, “she probably felt bad for Markowitz and now she’s making sure he’s doing okay. You know how she doesn’t like anyone to be sad. And we all know how Markowitz is a scumbag leopard who’ll take advantage of any do-gooder idiot that comes along. Especially when they have legs as long as my Blayne’s!” The player stalked over to the bobcat’s desk and slammed really big hands onto it, making the thing nearly buckle. “But you know what’s the worst part of this? What
really
sets my teeth on edge and makes me want to just twist your head around until it pops off your body? The worst part is that because of
you
I haven’t had my workout today. I haven’t had my swim. I haven’t had my practice. Because of
you
I’ve missed almost an entire day of
my
schedule.”

The bobcat blinked. “That’s really more important than your girlfriend?”

Utilizing years of unplanned training, Toni dropped her book, charged across the room, and cut in front of the bobcat, her one free arm stretched out in front of her. She knew her skinny jackal arm and battered shoulder would never stop the player from getting those big hands on the idiot cat, but she felt the need to at least try because she, above everyone else, understood what was going on here.

Because Toni understood drive. The drive that one had to have in order to be the best.

So while the bobcat didn’t “get” Novikov’s schedule issues, Toni did. She also knew that she didn’t want to spend the rest of the day in a police precinct giving a statement on a tragic shifter-on-shifter murder case.

“When’s your fiancée’s thing tonight?” she asked loudly in an attempt to get Novikov’s attention and keep him on the other side of that very flimsy-looking desk. “Eight? Nine?”

Novikov yanked his hand back and, since it had been dangerously close to her face, she appreciated that he had enough self-control to do that.

“Eight thirty Chicago time,” he snarled, blue eyes still locked on the bobcat behind her.

“Great. I know a carrier that I use for my family all the time. There’re eleven of us not counting my parents, and regular planes and full-human run airports are not always the friends of jackals with pups. So I can easily get you on a direct flight to Chicago, have a car meet you at the airport to take you right to wherever she’s playing her game tonight.”

“It’s called a bout.”

“Okay. Her bout. I can get you to her bout.”

“You can do that?” he asked, looking a bit calmer.

“Just need a phone and a computer.”

The player pointed at the bobcat. “You. Out.”

“This is my desk.”

Toni rammed her free hand against Novikov’s shoulder before he could finish climbing over the bobcat’s desk and strangling the feline to death. She had no illusions that she was somehow physically holding him back. Instead she was trusting in his desire not to hurt the one person who might be able to help him.

“Go take a break,” she ordered the bobcat. “I won’t be long.”

“Whatever.”

The bobcat sounded tough, but he still slinked around them and then darted out of the room before the player could get his hands on him.

“Sit,” Toni firmly ordered, using the same tone she often used with Kyle.

“I’d be making everyone’s life easier if I just took that cat’s neck and—”

“Sit.
Now.
Over there by the wolf.”

Novikov walked over to Ricky and glared down at him. Toni thought she’d have to jump between those two when the wolf only stared back. That same placid look on his face. But Novikov, instead of fighting yet another person, just grabbed the chair Toni had originally been sitting in and pulled it close to the desk.

Toni decided to ignore the fact that the chair had been bolted to the floor. Nope. It was better not to think about that little feat of strength at all.

Sitting down behind the bobcat’s computer, Toni willed herself not to comment on the background picture he had on his monitor of some hot car model. So typical.

“Your full name?” she asked.

“Bo Novikov.”

“Right.” She gave him a small smile. “I appreciated how you handled my brother yesterday, Mr. Novikov.”

“Call me Bo,” he ordered. “And does he ask everyone if he can sketch them naked?”

She gave a small chuckle while typing into the Web browser. “No. Only worthy specimens.”

“What happened to your arm?”

“Got hit by a truck saving a dog.”

“A dog dog or . . . family?”

Toni rolled her eyes. “A dog dog.”

“You risked your life to save a dog?”

“I already had this conversation with my parents—I’m not having it again!” she snapped.

“Okay, okay. No need to get snippy.”

“You haven’t seen me snippy,” she muttered as she forced herself to ignore the pain in her wounded shoulder so she could use both hands to type.

“So why are you here today?” Novikov asked her.

She went into the site for the shifter-run airline. She had full access because the owner loved Jackie’s music and because Toni worked with them so often she’d become friends with most of the staff. She didn’t use them for everything—they were unbelievably expensive—but they were great for last-minute arrangements to foreign countries when the entire family was going. So many jackals in one place was pretty much asking for trouble when full-humans were around.

“Hoping to get a job for the summer,” she replied without looking at him. “Looks like my family is staying here for the next few months.”

“What do you do for a living?”

Toni sighed. “Babysit.”

He grunted at her, and Toni glanced at him. His right leg was bouncing, his fingers were tapping the arms of his chair, and he was staring at the wall. He wasn’t bored or annoyed. He was anxious. She knew the signs.

“You know what?” she said, keeping her voice light. “I bet your info is in these files. I’ll dig it out, get your schedule all lined up, and you can go and skate or whatever it is you hockey players do to keep in shape. You just give me your fiancée’s info on this Post-it, and I’ll take it from there.”

“I better not.”

“It’s not even noon, Mr. Novikov. You get some practice in and I’ll handle everything else. Trust me. You’ll get there and she’ll be surprised and very happy. I’ll make it happen.”

He leaned back, studied her again. “Like I said, the name’s Bo. And why are you protecting that bobcat?”

“I’m not protecting the idiot. I’m protecting the genius.” She smiled, shrugged. “I guess that’s also what I do.”

“You sure?”

“You can’t get on a flight this wound up. You’ll startle the flight attendants . . . a lot of them are cats. You know how that’ll end.”

“Yeah. All right. All right.” He took the pen she held out for him and jotted some info on the paper. “You don’t have to get that tone. I’ll be at the training rink if you need—”

“I won’t need anything. Go. Now. Work out. Get your head together.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He got up, walked out, and Toni went back to work.

After a few seconds the wolf remarked, “Ya see? You wait long enough . . . the entertainment comes to
you
.”