Coveted (13 page)

Ten minutes later, our food arrived. After our teen server’s attempt a few days ago to just toss the tray onto our table, Aggie had had stern words for her.

“Is your apron on too tight or something?” she’d said.

Misty had frozen in place and mumbled, “No, ma’am.” Her eyes went to the floor and she backed away.

Since then, our service had turned from sour to stellar. We got free refills, and yesterday she’d even brought us complimentary ice cream sundaes. I could get used to having a high-ranking female around.

The shrill ring of my cell phone interrupted our meal. I didn’t recognize the number except for the area code—New York City.

Damn. I didn’t expect Nick to actually call. How’d he get my cell phone number? “Hey, Nat, do you have time on Friday or Saturday for our exchange?”

I wish I had a glamorous enough life to say no. And I hadn’t even thought yet about giving up one of my ornaments. Did I have even one I could bear to part with for a few hours? But Dr. Frank hadn’t said
hours
. He’d said
days
.

Aggie peered at me with curiosity. She’d heard the whole conversation, but hadn’t understood it. All this mysterious talk about an exchange must have made it sound like I was running a werewolf drug ring.

I gave him a place and time on Friday for the exchange since I had the day off. As we ended the call, I didn’t detect any stress in his voice, almost as if he didn’t mind parting with his property.

“Is there something you need to tell me?” She wiped her hands off after she finished her fries.

“It’s a therapy assignment. I have to exchange something of value with another person in the group.” A line of sweat formed on my brow, and the food, which had tasted so good just a moment before, suddenly seemed dry.

“If you’re not ready to take that step, you should call Dr. Frank.”

“It’s just one ornament. I can do it.” No, I couldn’t. They weren’t gifts for friends or little trinkets I shared to bring holiday cheer.

“You could always buy one at a store and give it to him,” she suggested.

I laughed. “If I have compulsive-buying issues, do you think I should buy another one? And do you think I’d willingly give it up?”

“What if you bought the ugliest piece of crap the store had? You know, one of those ornaments they stuck twenty tags on at twenty-five percent, then later at ninety percent, since no one in their right mind would put it on their tree?”

I poked at my burger with distaste. I shouldn’t have talked about this while I ate. “I’ve hunted through every place here in town. When they see me coming, the mom-and-pop stores add extra stock to keep me satisfied.”

“Wow, feeding the local junkie. Damn shame.”

“I’ll have you know that the Better Business Bureau sends me coupons after Thanksgiving like clockwork.”

She laughed as we stood to leave. I placed a tip on the table and said, “I’m a walking economy in heels.”

Aggie’s eyebrows went up. “You can always say no. Walk into the stores and walk right back out.”

I inhaled deeply. “That’s easier said than done, Aggie.”

“I know. Your aunt Olga and Grandma watch commercial after commercial with all these kinds of food. Not long after, I’m sitting there as my urges come back”—she swallowed—“and then I remember what it was like when I used to binge.”

I rubbed my forehead with my hand. Aggie had come a long way. I remembered the days back in college when she used to visit me. She’d escape from NYU to spend
the weekend in my apartment. “God help us, we’re a couple of misfits.”

She returned my smile.

“To be honest with you,” I said as we walked back to The Bends, “you really need to stop going to my parents’ house during the day. If you keep showing up, sooner or later you’ll come home engaged to one of my distant cousins in St. Petersburg.”

W
hile
I worked the day away at The Bends, my best friend spent her afternoons watching Russian-dubbed Mexican soap operas with my Aunt Olga and grandmother. Either Aggie had hidden the fact that she was fluent in Spanish or someone helped translate
Los Ricos También Iloran
(it’s not my thing to watch
The Rich Cry Too
for hours and hours). During that time, she’d fallen into the trap of listening to Aunt Olga’s stories, most of which were about her years as a beauty pageant contestant in Russia.

Aggie picked me up at five on the dot and continued to babble about her adventures during the day. “Ignore the baked goods in the backseat. We’re dropping off some of your mother’s masterpieces at the local church for the Cramer family baptism.”

Like a true friend, she had acknowledged my quirks by laying an old blanket over the seats. Of course, the sealed Tupperware hadn’t stopped Aggie from helping herself to some sugar cookies. Between bites she managed to say, “You know the Cramers, don’t you?”

“They live a few doors down from my parents.”

After dropping off the food at the church, we drove home. Aggie was still chatty. “Did you know your Aunt Olga did pageants for years in Russia?”

I laughed. “Yeah.” I shuddered from the memories of hours upon hours of watching those pageants on tape.

Once my aunt had even tried to convince my mother to participate. Mom has the most beautiful blonde hair. But when she had Alex and me, he got the bouncy Prell-commercial locks, while I picked up the mousy chestnut curls. But every time I complained, my mom always had something kind to say. She’d stroke my hair and say in Russian, “My daughter doesn’t need blonde hair to be beautiful.”

We rode back to my house in silence. I tried to concentrate on the road and not think about tomorrow’s exchange. How I wished I could talk to Thorn. Even with all the dirt, another run in the woods with him would feel like heaven about now.

Especially when I saw Clive and Derek waiting by my house.
Oh, shit
.

Their black Oldsmobile was parked in my long driveway, blocking the entrance to my garage. Derek sneered when he saw me approach. The memory of his words crept into my brain. “Inferior stock,” he’d said.

When I braked, Aggie bared her teeth and whispered, “Stay in the car, Nat.”

Did she seriously want to get out? I had no qualms about staying inside. “You plan to take them on by yourself? Are you nuts?”

“They’ll just keep tracking you. That’s what these kinds of people do. They weed out the weak before they all-out attack.”

I glanced at the men and saw Derek taking a deep drag of his short cigarette. A trail of smoke arced across the yard as he tossed the butt onto my front lawn. The bastard.

“We’re in a car. I can take us out of here.” The car jostled and we looked back to see two other wolves sitting on our hood. Damn it all to hell. My head turned in
her direction. “Okay, so you against four. You still want to head out there to play hero?”

“They’ll kill you.” She pulled out her cell phone to call for help, but then the door yanked open. One of the werewolves snatched the phone from her and threw it toward the far end of the yard. With wide eyes, I watched him wrench her from the car. But Aggie wasn’t one to take punishment for long without retaliating. My door opened as she unleashed a snarl and threw her attacker into the side of the car.

Rough hands grabbed me while Aggie tussled with her fair-haired attacker. Her feisty spirit thrust my fear away. With claws unleashed, I swiped at Clive, and then at a shorter man with black hair. From the look in their eyes, they hadn’t expected me to come at them snapping and swinging. I drew blood from the raven-haired man before Clive pounced on me. My back hit the ground, and my teeth rattled. I’d been holding my breath, but the fall knocked it from my chest.

Hearing the growls and barks Aggie made, I knew she’d completed her transformation and was scrambling with her prey—perhaps her attacker or Derek. My heart thundered in my chest as Clive used his crushing body weight to hold me down. In human form, the odds weren’t in my favor. He barked to his cohort, “Reggie, go check on Derek!”

A familiar soft yelp from the other side of the car told me the worst had happened. I cried out Aggie’s name as Clive’s hands grasped my neck and squeezed. I pounded and clawed, but I couldn’t break his iron grip. Dark spots danced in my vision. The sounds of the forest disappeared and reappeared. I tried to focus on Clive’s face and aim my sharp talons, but my strength had withered away with the wind.

“Derek told me I couldn’t keep you.” His grip slipped for a moment as he examined my face. “Would be a
waste to kill a sweet bitch like you.” His claws bit into the soft skin of my neck, causing me to whimper. He leaned forward and pressed the rough stubble on his face against my cheek. “I can smell your sex.”

Suddenly, Clive’s body was lifted from mine. Something rammed his side. Hard. The man sputtered as his body was hurled upward and then landed with a sickening crunch. I coughed and rolled onto my stomach while the howls of Thorn’s pack filled the clearing around my home.

Where had they come from? Who’d called them?

Disoriented, I drew the night air into my lungs. Not far away, I spotted Thorn with his tawny coat. He tore into Clive and violently shook him. The other wolves of the pack sprinted after Derek and the other two, who’d made a hasty retreat.

I tried to stand by pulling myself up on my car’s open door, but my legs wobbled. Strong hands grabbed me under the shoulders and lifted me. Thorn turned me around and examined my face. Naked against the cold autumn breeze, he held me close.

“I should have moved faster,” he breathed against my neck.

I tried to speak, but I could only make hoarse noises like a wounded pup. Exasperated, I murmured, “Aggie?”

He stroked the back of my head and whispered, “Will is checking on her. She put up a great fight.” With ease, he picked me up and carried me toward the house.

I tried to turn my head to look in the direction of Aggie’s whimpering, but my bruised neck protested.

“Don’t move. She’ll live,” he said.

For a brief moment, I thought about the locked front door, but Thorn just kicked it in. At first I wanted to panic about him discovering my secret, but exhaustion and pain won—tonight anyway.

He ascended my stairs two at a time. Not once did he
glance at my boxes; he merely darted around them. I waited for his words as we passed through my house, but none came. Once we reached my room, he placed me on my bed. “I didn’t expect them to come for you again. Why do they care so much about you?”

As he stood above me, I tried to ignore his nakedness, but in the darkness of my bedroom I couldn’t resist staring. My ass had been kicked up and down my lawn, but no hot-blooded werewolf could possibly close her eyes to a sight like Thorn Grantham. His long legs were lean at the ankles, but as my eyes roamed up to his thighs, I saw where the thick yet sleek muscles clenched. Then I looked farther up, to the place I’d seen so many times in the past. The memories of the first night when Thorn had claimed me with his body caused an involuntary shiver that cascaded from my lips to the tips of my toes.

“This isn’t the time or the place.” He took half a step back. “No matter how receptive you are.” He’d seen my roaming eye and now he could detect the hunger that lay beneath the pain. I didn’t sense Erica’s scent on him. They hadn’t consummated their relationship yet. Did he want to wait? Was he holding out for some reason?

I averted my gaze from his well-chiseled abs to the blond trail of hair leading to his obvious arousal. With the wolf so close to his skin after being wakened by the attack, Thorn was holding on to his self-control by a thread.

He drew in a deep breath before he whispered, “I can’t protect you right now. Not when you smell like this.”

So that was why Clive had rubbed his nasty nose all over my face. I’d come into heat. I sighed. This whole situation shouldn’t surprise me. Normal werewolves went into heat every month—just like our human counterparts. But ever since I’d gone off the drugs a few years ago, my cycle had been as crazy as my psychological problems. I stifled a laugh. Half a pill had lowered my anxiety and
fixed my cycle. It had also thrown me into the path of every horny werewolf in the township. Great.

Before I could reply, he swooped in next to me and brushed his lips against mine. The feather-like touch made my stomach flip as he spoke. “I trust only one person to keep an eye on you. Albeit reluctantly, I know he’ll follow my orders.” He clenched his fists and put some distance between us. “And not touch you.”

Slowly, he sat on the bed beside me and then remained still. His entire body tightened like the strings on a violin. Straining. Yearning. He shifted his body to capture my eyes with his own. His palm caressed my cheek. His touch gave me both pleasure and pain.

“I need to find out why they’ve made you high on their target list.” He backed away to the door. So slowly I could count each step before he went into the night.

I woke up late, a sloppy mess of pain, only to hear Aggie giggling in the kitchen. I blinked and grimaced. Even blinking hurt. The tantalizing scent of French toast, bacon, and eggs drifted to my nose. A male voice spoke shortly afterward. The guard.

Will must have stayed behind to watch over the house. Right about now, I assumed that Aggie was sitting in the kitchen with him, wooing him with her culinary skills. I tried to rise, but my entire body protested. My neck ached to no end, and I had painful spots all over my torso.

Werewolves heal quickly, but such abilities have their limits. I have better vision, hearing, and strength, but just like humans I can be hurt badly. If I’d been human, Clive would’ve broken my neck.

Speaking of Clive, had Thorn killed him? I tried to recall last night’s events, but the pain drove the memories away. I had to get up. I couldn’t let those idiots downstairs cook a meal and leave my kitchen in ruins.

With herculean effort, I managed to reach the bathroom
to clean up. The woman in the mirror stuck her tongue out. Much easier to play the part of a disgruntled werewolf than a frightened and battered woman.