Confessions of a Werewolf Supermodel (32 page)

He'd gotten a call and his father had taken a turn for the worse. Stefan planned on going from New York straight to the airport when he arrives home. He's going to Ireland.

Regardless of what I said to him in the bar before I went out to burn my past, I feel a hollow spot in my heart. I said I wasn't ready for a committed relationship. I never said I wanted him out of my life. And is Terry now out of my life? Tom has only added to the questions about who I am and why I am what I am. Why he was a werewolf, too. The Billingtons told me to start looking for answers in Nevada.

I made my travel arrangements before I left New York. I leave on Tuesday because I didn't know I'd be coming home the same day I left for Vermont. Maybe I can bump the arrangements up. I've decided to tell Cindy I'm going to Vegas to get away. She probably won't buy that, but I prefer her to concentrate on her new relationship rather than worry about what I'm up to. She insisted on sitting in the backseat with me. Now I feel her hand slide into mine. I squeeze and that's all we need. We're best friends. Werewolf, lesbian, whatever, we'll always be best friends.

I close my eyes and sleep when Natasha and Karen break the silence and discuss work. When I wake up, Cindy is helping me from the car in front of our building. Ralph rushes out with a luggage carrier.

“Didn't expect you back so soon,” he says. “Lou, that young man named Rick told me that you said it was all right if he stayed in your apartment while you were gone. I couldn't get a hold of you to verify the information, but I know you let him stay there one other time, so I said okay.”

I glance at the doorman's neck. No bite marks.

“Who's Rick?” Cindy asks.

“He's this really nice friend of Lou's,” Natasha provides.

He's a freakin' vampire, I want to add, but don't.

“Where did you meet him?”

“It's a long story,” I tell her. “Come on, let's say good night to Karen, she looks like she's about to drop.”

We all give Karen a hug and send her on her way. Ralph brings the bags and we ride up to the tenth floor. I have no idea if Rick is having a vampire party in my apartment, so I knock. He answers, looking pale since he's not wearing makeup.

“Lou, what are you doing back?”

“Shoot got canceled.” I take suitcases off the luggage carrier and shove them inside the door.

“Hi, Natasha,” Rick says pleasantly, sipping wine from one of my crystal goblets.

“Hello, Rick,” she responds. “This is Cindy, my partner.”

“Hi, Rick,” Cindy pipes up.

I close the door before the party spills into my apartment. “What are you doing here?”

Rick shrugs. “You said you'd be gone. I live on the streets, Lou. This is much nicer.”

Out of habit, I move to small entry table where I usually set my beauty bag. I don't have it. Poof. It's gone. I feel naked. “I let you sleep here once. That was not an open invitation.”

Rick walks over and pulls one of my bags farther into the living room. “I have problems now. I need sanctuary.”

“What kind of problems?”

He opens his mouth and points to his ground-down fangs. “I can't eat the way I used to. My fangs aren't long enough to get penetration. Maria was very frustrated.”

I'm relieved that Rick isn't capable of biting anyone at the moment. It makes me less nervous about him being here. “So, what are you going to do? You have to have blood to survive, right?”

“Right,” he answers. “I only had one choice. I robbed a blood bank.”

I blink at him. “And the blood is where?”

He smiles. “In your refrigerator.”

Glancing at his glass, my lip curls. “And I suppose that is not wine.”

“You can pretend it is if it makes you feel better.”

“Out!” I point to the door.

“Come on, Lou. That's like declawing a cat and throwing it outside to fend for itself. I know you're not that cruel.”

I'd like to be, but he's right, I'm not that cruel. “Okay, here's the deal. I'm leaving as soon as I get my flight changed. I'll be gone for a while. You can be the caretaker here, but no wild parties and no biting anyone, especially the next-door neighbors.”

“I can't bite them,” he reminds me. “I've been fixed.”

He looks so pathetic about it that my heart softens. He did come to my rescue that night Terry was attacked by vampires, and he did lose two of his friends because of that. “Okay, help me with these suitcases.”

After Rick helps me unpack; we both sit on the couch watching
Court TV
. It's not the same as having Cindy, but Cindy has a love life now. I guess Rick will be my new Egore for a while. Someone knocks on my door. I'm wearing my favorite pajamas and I suspect curiosity has finally got the better of Cindy.

When I open the door, it isn't Cindy standing there. It's Terry. He holds a stack of files.

“What are you doing here?”

“I know it's late.” His gaze moves over me. “I guess your cell is out of commission. I tried to call first.”

“My cell was in my beauty bag,” I say. Nodding toward the files, I ask, “What's that?”

He shoves them toward me. “On the drive home, I got to thinking about what you said. You're right. I saw what I saw. It made me think about a few unsolved cases we have that seemed pretty weird at the time. I thought you might take a look at them and tell me if you get anything from them.”

Lifting a brow, I ask, “You mean like that psychic crap?”

He smiles. “Yeah, like that psychic crap.”

“Lou, I'm getting something to drink. Want anything?”

Rick's voice echoes behind me. Terry's smile fades. “Sorry. I didn't know you had company.”

“Just have a friend over,” I say.

Terry suddenly looks very coplike. “I'd better get home. Lots to do tomorrow. You might want to lay low for a while. I'm not sure I can keep your name out of this.”

“I'm leaving town again as soon as possible,” I assure him. “I have business in Nevada. I'll take the files with me, though, and look over them while I'm gone.”

“Fine.”

He starts to turn away. I feel more needs to be said between us. “Thanks for saving my life and stuff.”

Facing me again, he shrugs. “Thanks for saving mine. I guess we're even.”

I don't like being even. It sounds more like being over. “Well, technically, Dawson might have been dead before you shot him. I'm sure he would have been dead even if you hadn't shot him, so maybe you still owe me.”

My teasing fails to get the expected smile from Terry. I suppose Terry's tired. I know I am. “Give me a call when you get back,” he says, and turns and walks away.

I watch him move down the hall. I step out, thinking he'll turn and say something else. Like maybe now that the case is over, he'd like to get beat up again. He does turn. He does say something. Just not what I expect.

“Nice hickey.”

He turns and keeps walking. I slap a hand to my neck. Rick knows what happened and how I got the marks on my neck. I didn't think hiding the hickey with a turtleneck beneath my pajamas was necessary with him. I haven't got a clue how to explain the hickey to Terry. I'm about lied out at the moment, and although he's becoming more receptive to the possibility that the world is not exactly as he thought it was, I think telling Terry a vampire bit me after I turned into a werewolf and got involved in a gang fight is a little too much too soon.

I go back inside, past Rick who sips another glass of “wine,” and head for my bedroom. “Sheets and pillows are in the linen closet. I've had a long day. I'm turning in.”

“Pleasant dreams,” he calls.

For the first time in seven years, I think that might be possible. I think a lot of things are possible. My life isn't so bad. I have good friends, a new one who is a vampire but everyone has their problems. I'm still a supermodel and love my job. I have peace of mind now to know that even if I do turn into a werewolf, I won't kill someone just for the hell of it. I'm still working with a hot cop who will probably get over the fang hickey at some point, and at least now I have a clue where to begin looking for answers about my condition.

There are others like me. There are others who aren't like me, but I'm not alone. I'm not the only one, and somehow, that makes me feel better. Since Tom is dead, does that mean I can't be triggered again? But there are others, so perhaps I can't make that assumption just yet. The thing is, I didn't mind being a wolf so much. There are possibilities there that I haven't even begun to explore. What about the underworld? Can Rick get me in if I need to go searching for answers there, as well?

When I crawl beneath the covers, I admit that not everything in my life is rosy. Stefan's mad because I didn't tell him that I was in danger and is now on a plane traveling thousands of miles away from me. Terry is mad because I have a vampire hickey. And boy, is Morgan going to be pissed when he finds out I went to Nevada without him. I smile at the thought of his face when he realizes I've ditched him.

I see his face a few hours later in my dreams. Morgan doesn't turn into a monster. He doesn't try to kill me or anyone else. Oddly enough, we're making love. Okay, we're not making love. We're having sex. Hot, sweaty, nasty, rough, fabulous sex. I can only view it as another nightmare. I'm just not one hundred percent certain that if I wake up screaming, it will be for the right reason. And I really, really, really hope that I am not psychic.

ST. MARTIN'S PAPERBACKS TITLES
BY RONDA THOMPSON

The Dark One

The Untamed One

The Cursed One

PRAISE FOR RONDA THOMPSON'S
WILD WULFS OF LONDON SERIES

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(4 ½ stars)

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is compelling and sexy. It's also smart and well written.”

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

CONFESSIONS OF A WEREWOLF SUPERMODEL

Copyright © 2007 by Ronda Thompson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

ISBN: 0-312-94925-1

EAN: 978-0-312-94925-9

St. Martin's Paperbacks edition / October 2007

St. Martin's Paperbacks are published by St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

eISBN 9781466857759

First eBook edition: October 2013