Hunting Human (17 page)

“No buts. Try on those jeans, make sure they fit before I tear the tags off,” Lucy said, gesturing toward the jeans on the bed.

Beth grabbed the jeans and escaped into the bathroom. “Wow.”

“Hmm?” Lucy popped her head around the corner. “What?”

“This is the nicest bathroom I’ve ever seen.” A huge standing shower with multiple jets and a large whirlpool tub occupied the far wall. A deep marble countertop ran the length of the room, showcasing a beautiful modern sink. The space would have been right at home in any upscale master suite in the country. “Are all your bathrooms like this?”

Lucy moved past her and dropped a load of cosmetics on the counter, shooting her a strange look. “Yeah. When my parents built the house they made sure we all had our own bathrooms. A nice hot soak is really relaxing the morning after.”

Beth didn’t have to ask the morning after what…but she did marvel at Lucy’s casual acceptance.

“Okay. Toothbrush and toothpaste. Check.” Lucy set both of them at the corner of the sink. “I also got you some deodorant, unscented. I figured you probably didn’t like perfumes in most of your stuff.” She glanced at Beth in the mirror for confirmation.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Beth sat on the edge of the tub and watched Lucy bounce around the bathroom, a never-ending fountain of energy.

“I got you a razor and some shaving cream.” Lucy placed them inside the shower and turned back to the remaining items on the counter.

“I guessed when it came to makeup. I got the basics—some translucent powder and some neutral-toned blush.” Lucy stopped dead when she turned back to Beth, as though it just occurred to her that she’d been running a mile a minute since she walked in. She fidgeted, then set the makeup on the counter.

Beth stood. Lucy had been nothing but kind to her, warm and welcoming since they’d first met. Beth couldn’t explain it, but she hated the expression of uncertainty on her face. It didn’t suit her. She forced herself to reach out and squeeze her arm.

“Thanks.” Beth took in the assortment of cosmetics scattered on the countertop. “Is that hair dye?”

Lucy laughed, the awkward tension broken. She picked up the box and turned it over in her hands. “Yeah. You’d look good a few shades lighter.” Lucy shrugged. “I can get a little carried away.” She put the box back on the counter. “Dinner’s going to be ready soon. I’m going to hang up some stuff I got for myself. I’ll swing back by and get you when I head down, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Try on those jeans.” Lucy grabbed the remaining bag off the bed and dashed out the door.

***

Beth sat on the edge of Braden’s bed and pulled off her shoes. She didn’t need to look out the window to know the sun was dipping below the trees on the horizon. The hour or so before the sun set on the day of a full moon always resonated in her. Her foot tapped, her hands shook, her muscles tensed. She felt edgy and alert, everything around her brighter, sharper, crisper. Adrenaline flooded her in small bursts, triggering her systems to react. Her body hummed with the anticipation of the change.

Strange, considering how much I hate it.

She’d been fascinated at dinner, watching the other family members exhibit some of the same mannerisms. The way Lucy’s foot constantly bounced, the way Chase’s fingers flexed continuously around his silverware. Even Braden had teemed with energy. Braden’s father had been more difficult to read. He always exhibited such a calm, quiet air about him. But Beth saw it, even in him, in the way he lingered against his wife when he kissed her cheek, breathing in the air around her.

Anna was the only one that hadn’t seemed effected by it. Throughout dinner Beth had watched her, fascinated, as she carried on, business as usual. Beth hadn’t been aware of how open her study was until Anna leaned toward her and casually whispered, “I’m not like them. I never chose to be turned.” She’d leaned back into her seat and turned to her husband who idly stroked her arm.

“Hey,” Lucy said, breaking through her thoughts. She stood in the doorway wearing a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, looking for all the world as though she intended to relax around the house. “Are you coming with us?”

“Where?” Beth pulled off her socks and stuffed them in her shoes.

“When we’re all at home, we usually run around the woods surrounding the house. You know, goof around.” She smiled invitingly. “Wanna come?”

“I think I’d better stay here.”

“Ah, come on! I’m always outnumbered by the guys,” Lucy pleaded. “It’d be nice to have a girl to back me up for a change.”

“I’ll pass.” Lucy looked so disappointed that Beth forced a lie past her lips. “But maybe next time.”

“Are you sure?” Lucy hovered uncertainly in the doorway, obviously warring with whether or not to push the issue.

“Leave her alone, Luce.” Braden gave her a gentle shove down the hallway. “Chase is waiting for you downstairs and Caleb pulled in ten minutes ago.”

“Okay. See you in the morning, Beth.” She disappeared down the hall, yelling for Chase.

“Who’s Caleb?”

“My other brother. He came in from Portland.” He leaned casually against the doorjamb, studying her. “You didn’t eat much at dinner.”

“I wasn’t very hungry.” She turned away from his scrutiny and moved toward the window. Lucy and Chase goofed around on the lawn. Another man—Caleb, she assumed—scooped Lucy up over his shoulder and spun around. Lucy shrieked with laughter. The clear sky continued to fade from brilliant blue into a reddish-purple glow. They didn’t seem to notice. Or care.

“You shouldn’t skip meals before the change. It’s not good for you.”

“You should go. Your family is waiting for you.” Beth gestured toward the window, silently willing Braden to leave.

“I thought maybe I’d stay with you.”

“I don’t want you here.” She strode across the room, her mind set. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Braden caught the door she tried to slam in his face.

“It’s easier with someone else. Please, Beth.”

“No.” A spasm ran through her, her fingers clenching involuntarily around the door. “Go away.” A shudder racked her frame, the muscles in her shoulders and along her spine rippling. He had to leave. Now.

“It’s already starting?” He moved as if to step into the room, brown eyes warm and concerned.

Beth put her hand in the center of his chest and pushed. “Just go.” Desperation tinged her voice. He took a small step back, enough for her to slam the door and twist the lock. The moment she did another spasm ripped through her, tormenting her sore muscles and igniting the places the Taser had touched her. She barely managed to muffle the cry that bubbled up her throat.

Moving as quickly as she dared, she stripped out of her jeans and T-shirt. She was down to underwear when the first true contraction hit her. She stifled a scream, as the pain drove her to hands and knees.

The doorknob rattled and Braden’s voice pleaded through the door. “Beth, please. Don’t do this.”

Why isn’t he shifting?

Beth gasped for breath and struggled out of her bra. Her stomach turned. Saliva that tasted of the roast chicken dinner flooded her mouth. She distantly registered the first howl from the front yard. She answered it with a scream of pain that drowned out everything else.

Braden slammed his fists against the door, Beth’s screams raking through him like claws. He fought his own change, delaying the inevitable.

His shoulders rippled and tensed. He breathed through the muscle spasms, willing the shift to wait a few more minutes.

“Braden?” His mother’s voice cut through his concentration.

Braden made a desperate grab for the control to not shift on the spot.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not. You’re fighting the change.” His mother stepped up next to him, the scent of lemon and rosemary still clinging to her skin. “Why?”

“She’s hurting.” Beth’s screams had died almost as soon as they’d begun but her painful whimpers continued to echo through the door.

And his gut.

And his heart.

“Hurting yourself won’t change that,” she scolded. “I’m going to go check on the others. When I come back up here, you better not be standing on two legs.”

Braden squeezed his eyes shut and leaned his forehead against the door. “Fine.” He couldn’t fight the change that long anyway.

“If I need to, I’ll pick the lock and let you in, okay?” His mother’s hand trailed across his shoulder, but didn’t ease any of the tension in his muscles. He nodded and she silently walked away. He took another bracing breath and silenced the instinct that was trying to force the shift long enough for him to strip out of his clothes. The moment he was free of the fabric he slid into the wolf.

It was instant relief and instant torture. His muscles no longer ached and his awareness was no longer consumed with the need to change. But as a wolf he clearly heard Beth’s muffled cries and the unsteady click of her claws against the wood that told him how stiff she was. The door shielded nothing of her agony from him, but prevented any attempt he could make to soothe her.

It was beyond frustrating. Bad enough she’d spent the entire day avoiding him, either physically placing herself on the other side of the room, or pretending he wasn’t there at all. Worse was when Lucy wrung a laugh or a smile out of her. Or when his mother spoke with her in low, easy tones. Worst of all had been her ease around Mike. She didn’t flinch away when he gently touched her shoulder or examined her wounds. She’d even joked with him! But the moment they were alone, the moment he thought he might have a chance to apologize, she’d slammed the door on him and gone to sleep. And now she’d shut him out again.

Braden paced the length of the hall, his claws clicking against the polished wood floor. He paused, rotating one large ear toward his room. A heavy exhale and a thump carried through the door. Then nothing. He pushed his head against the door, not bothering to conceal the whine that slid out of his throat.

No response.

He paced for over an hour. Once or twice he’d heard the excited barks of the rest of his family after Chase’s howl had cut across the night. He’d cocked his head, his ears trained in the direction of the sounds, and wondered if they’d found a deer or a rabbit to hunt. He couldn’t bring himself to find out.

“I hoped if I left you alone you’d go on outside.” His mother’s voice carried down the hall as she mounted the top of the stairs. “But seeing as you are determined to wear a path in floor, I suppose I better interfere.”

His mother heaved a long-suffering sigh and pulled out the slender screwdriver she used to tighten the joints on her reading glasses. “Are you sure about this? She seemed determined to do this on her own.” His mother hesitated by the door, studying the handle as if it held all the answers. “She’s been forced enough already—maybe you should let her rest. She’s safe in there for tonight.”

Braden plopped to the floor, let his shoulders hunch, his ears droop and eyes go wide. When she didn’t notice, he produced the most suffering whimper he could manage. His mother’s gaze immediately snapped to him, her expression softening.

“Stop that.”

Braden whined a little louder.

His mother’s expression broke. “Someday that’s not going to work on me.” She inserted the screwdriver into the tiny hole in the doorknob and pushed. “I don’t know what you’ll do then.”

Braden heard the lock click open and a second later Beth startled to her feet, paws scrabbling against the wood, carrying her away from the door. He leaped to his feet and brushed against his mother’s side in an impatient thank-you. When she didn’t push the door open fast enough, he scratched at the wood by the doorjamb.

“Cut it out. Don’t make me regret this.” She pushed the door open wide enough for him to slide in. “And come morning I better not find your clothes still cluttering up my hallway!”

The door snicked shut behind him as Braden searched the room for Beth. A soft growl jerked his head around toward the window. She stood by the window, under the fall of moonlight, stick thin, hackles raised and growling defensively. He inspected her closely from across the room. Two things stood out to him. First, the change wore on her in a way it shouldn’t after so long. Second, she was absolutely stunning.

Her coat shone pale silver in the moonlight, except for her Prime Mantle. Slate gray fur tipped her ears and spread down her neck to wrap over her shoulders and cover her front legs like a cloak. She backed herself into the corner of the room, ears pressed flat to her skull, snarling and hunched as if prepared to leap. Scared blue eyes tracked his every move.

Braden swallowed his pride and dropped to his belly, whining as he pushed himself toward her. He tried to convey his submissiveness through his body language and his intentions through his eyes. She let him get within a body length before she snapped her jaws, bristling and backing as far away as the tight corner allowed.

Undaunted, he rose slowly and pushed his head forward. He didn’t think she would attack him. Instinct would tell her it was a fight she couldn’t win. She kept her teeth bared and hackles up, but didn’t move as he made a final push forward, rubbing his muzzle against her cheek and toward her ear. Relieved that she’d allowed the contact, he laid his head briefly on top of hers and pulled away.

Braden backed off, allowing enough room for Beth to move out of the corner. He sat and cocked his head, anxious to see what she’d do. She sat back into the corner, dropping her hackles and pulling her teeth behind her lips. She regarded him, with the same ice blue eyes that always captivated him, for so long that Braden wondered if they’d remain in this strange standoff until the sun rose.

Unsure how to encourage her without crowding her, he curled up on the floor a few feet away. Slowly, Beth emerged into the room. From the spot he’d chosen on the floor, Braden watched her carefully circle away from him. For the moment, he was content to let her. It gave him the opportunity to look his fill.

She was truly magnificent, but he could tell she had no idea how to care for herself. She was too thin, her ribs too defined under fur that, despite the beautiful color, was dull and thin. As she moved across the room, gait unsteady, her muscles continued to spasm as though the shift had just occurred. She wasn’t eating right. Probably wasn’t exercising during the shift either.

And why would she?

How could he expect her to know how to handle this; how to ensure that the change was easy, that she
and
the wolf stayed healthy? No one had helped her.

Braden couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been. The fear. The desperation. He’d never regarded the change as something vicious, but he’d never faced it alone, either. Beth settled wearily on the rug in front of the bed, curling tightly into herself, her eyes never losing track of him.

He rose and padded over to her. She tensed as he settled next to her, but didn’t growl or jerk away. He lay his head down gently over the back of her neck, thrilled when her muscles relaxed and she faded into sleep.

I won’t let her face this alone. Not ever again.

Braden blinked groggily and scanned the room.

The murky gray of early morning wrapped the room in shadows, but nothing moved and nothing appeared out of place. Next to him, Beth quivered and exhaled on a whimper. Blue eyes, hazed with fear and pain caught his. Another shudder racked her thin frame and she whimpered again, curling tighter into herself and he understood. Her muscles began the cycle of cramping and flexing, the first rays of sun only minutes away. The moon’s power waned, forcing Beth back into her human form.

Braden pulled away. If the sun was that close…

He willed himself to shift forms. It was a little early, but Beth was already suffering the first onslaught of spasms.

I can do this.

His muscles warred against his attempt to shift. Braden focused on the sensation of human limbs and human senses, and forced the change to come. It took longer than usual and even as hands and feet replaced paws, he knew he’d be sore for the rest of the day.

He knelt near Beth as he struggled to catch his breath. Her body shuddered and jerked, her muscles locked in a never-ending cycle of spasms. She panted through her snout, locking her jaws around the cries vibrating in her throat.

“Shh. Beth, try to relax.” He slid his fingers into the soft fur behind her neck and trailed his hand down the length of her spine, willing her muscles to unclench. “Try not to fight the cramping…”

As he continued to card his fingers through her fur, he felt her physically try to relax and allow the shift to take control. The audible pop of bone and the snap of muscle drowned out her whimpers. He watched in horrified fascination as Beth endured the slowest shift he’d ever seen. It took a full two minutes before she lay curled in on herself, limbs twitching in the aftermath.

With shaking fingers Braden resumed stroking the length of her spine. Her skin shone with sweat and felt clammy beneath his fingers. For a long time, only the sound of her harsh breathing filled the air.

She pushed her arms up underneath her and tried to hoist herself to her knees. Unable to watch her struggle, Braden slid an arm under her stomach and another around her back, sitting her up.

She mumbled something he didn’t catch. “What?”

“Bathroom. Please…I think I’m going to be sick.”

Braden lifted her to her feet and supported her into the bathroom. She darted away from him and dropped to her knees, retching violently the moment she reached the toilet.

At a loss, Braden turned on the steam shower, getting the spray hot, and tried to ignore the way the harsh heaving racked her frame. When trembling fingers reached to flush the toilet, Braden intercepted them, pressed a damp washcloth into their grasp and flushed the toilet.

“Thanks.” She trembled, but pushed herself to her feet, a soft blush spreading from her face down to the top of her chest, trailing over the soft swell of her breasts. “I’ll just…” She gestured toward the shower. Embarrassment colored her sallow cheeks as she looked away, but whether she was uncomfortable over her illness or the fact that they were both naked, he wasn’t sure.

He pulled her to him with a gentle grip on her arm and led her into the shower. She bristled, her damned independence reasserting itself. Braden tightened his grip, determined to keep her with him, and coaxed her under the spray of six massaging showerheads.

“Oh…” She moaned low in the back of her throat as the warm jets of water went to work. Her muscles relaxed beneath the onslaught of hot water as his tensed in reaction to the way she was pressed up against him naked, wet and moaning.

He pulled her closer; her cheek pressed against his chest, and reveled in the way she leaned against him, allowing him to run his fingers over the soft skin of her back, and through the wet strands of her hair. She pressed her forehead against the center of his chest and laid a hand under his heart.

“I hate you…” The words had no force behind them, and though they pierced his heart, he heard them for what they were.

“You don’t. Not really.” He rested his chin on her head. She shivered and shook her head against his shoulder. “Shh,” he said. “Don’t do this. Not now.”

Beth wasn’t sure how long she stood there, limp against his chest, his steady heartbeat against her cheek. The water went cold against her back, seizing muscles that had relaxed under the pounding heat of six showerheads. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and reached behind her to turn off the water. She didn’t move. Couldn’t move.

A fluffy towel draped around her, absorbing the chill as he guided her out of the shower and into the bedroom. He released her, pulling back the bedcovers, then ushered her, still damp, onto clean sheets. When he gently began to dry her, starting at an ankle and moving up her leg, she made herself look away. It was too much. All too much.

The weight of her wishes crushed her. She wished she’d never gone to Europe. She wished she’d never been bitten. She wished she’d never seen him shift from man to beast in the driveway of her home. So many wishes. So many regrets. But she couldn’t bring herself to wish she’d never met him. Because in this moment, as his large, gentle hands carefully dried her, soothing sore muscles with their steady warmth, she needed him. She needed him so fiercely her entire body yearned for him, eclipsing everything else.

He was comfort. Pure and simple. He slid between the sheets next to her and drew her to him, her head pillowed on his shoulder. He stroked his fingers through her hair, a quiet presence beside her. Warming her. Supporting her. Comforting her. Solid heat, where before there’d been nothing but the cool tile of her bathroom to soothe her through the first hours of the morning.

She drew her fingers down his chest and sought his nipple with her lips. He grunted. His fingers coiled in her hair that spilled down her back.

“Beth,” he growled. “I’m not made of restraint.”

She didn’t have to feel him to know he was heavy and ready for her. A distant part of her acknowledged that her actions were selfish, but her yearning overrode her reason and she closed teeth around the nub beneath her tongue, her body warming against the groan that rumbled through his ribs. She knew he wanted her, could feel it in the way he held absolutely still beneath her. The slightest shift of her leg against him, the smallest tilt of her chin toward his mouth and he’d give her what she wanted. Comfort and a knowledgeable embrace she’d never dreamed she’d find.