Seduced By A Wolf (2 page)

“It’s not a mistake, Marketta. I love Derrick and he loves me,” she responded softly.

“Oh, sweetie, I know you love him, but are you
in
love with him? Derrick’s the only boyfriend you’ve ever had and while it’s commendable that you stuck with him while he was deployed overseas, doing so froze
your
social development. You didn’t date—in high school or college—and don’t get me started on that whole college business. I still say you made a mistake by not going off to school.”

“Pastor Wilkins asked me to attend college locally,” Von reminded in the tone of a person who’s had this discussion many, many times before with the same results.

“And that’s another thing. You and Derrick have been together a long damn time, since you were fifteen. The man’s going to be your father-in-law and you still call him Pastor Wilkins,” she complained.

That’s because Derrick Wilkins Senior gave her the willies. He was not a man she wanted to get on the bad side of. Fortunately, he approved of her and Derrick’s marriage. “What do you want me to call him, Dad?”

“Well, why not?”

“We just don’t have that type of relationship,” Von explained.

“That’s because the man is a stuck-up old fart who belongs in the dinosaur era. He believes children should be seen and not heard, and the only good woman is one on her back, preferably with her legs spread wide open.”

“
Marketta
!”

“Within the sanctity of marriage, of course,” she added wryly.

“Pastor Wilkins isn’t that bad. Yes, he’s a bit old fashioned in his views on women, but it’s all scriptural.”

Marketta snorted. “Honey, he uses that bible of his like a weapon against people, and honestly, a person could find scripture to support just about any stance they want to take. That doesn’t mean it’s right.”

Von didn’t know what to say to that. Marketta was usually flippant when it came to anything to do with religion. This flash of insight she’d spouted made Von uncomfortable, mostly because in her heart of hearts, she agreed. Troubled, she sat up and moved to the edge of the bed.

Marketta sighed, then said in a soft voice, “Von, everybody that says ‘Hallelujah’ ain’t saved, and toting a bible don’t make you a Christian. Some of them preachers are the freakiest demons in suits you ever want to meet. I haven’t decided which camp your Pastor Dee falls in, but I’m telling you something about that man ain’t right and it scares me that your boy Derrick wants to be just like him.”

Von said nothing. When the silence became uncomfortable, her cousin said, “Look, I got nothing against religion. We live in the Bible belt, after all, and Lord knows our family could use us some Jesus in our lives, me included. All I’m saying is read the bible for yourself and make your own decisions. Don’t be letting nobody control you, telling you what to believe and how to live. You’ve got a mind. Use it. And as for sex, if you want to go to your marriage bed a virgin, then do it. But make sure it’s what you want to do, not some rule someone imposed upon you, or ’cause you’re scared of being like your momma.” She sighed. “All right. Lecture over. We cool?”

“Yes.”

“You know I got your back, right?”

Von smiled, and it came through into her voice. “Of course.”

“Good. Now when’s the last time you heard from the hunk?”

“Sean?”

“Sean?” Marketta mimicked her in a high voice. “Of course, Sean. Don’t get me wrong. Your boy Derrick’s fine and all that. I’ll give him his props, but Sean? Mmm-mm! I could lick that white boy from head-to-toe. You know vanilla was always my favorite flavor of ice cream. ”

Von laughed at Marketta’s dramatics and walked over to her dresser. She picked up the picture frame holding the photo of a Sean and Derrick in Army fatigue pants and tank tops, holding automatic rifles while the hot, desert sun shone down upon them. They looked like every woman’s bad boy fantasy come to life. Derrick, with his smooth dark skin and intense golden-brown eyes, and Sean with his deep, golden tan and equally intense dark brown eyes, both gazed in the camera, serious faced and sexy.

Then she remembered and the laughter dried up. “It’s been months and I’m worried. No email, no letters—nothing. That’s not like him.”

Derrick had met Sean in boot camp and the two had become fast friends. When he learned Sean had no family, at Derrick’s insistence, she’d begun writing and emailing Sean as well. Though they’d never met face-to-face, over the last eight years they’d become great pen pals. In some ways, Sean knew her better than Derrick. With him, she could say anything and there was no censure, no judgment. Unlike Derrick, who could sometimes get a little preachy. Occupational hazard, she guessed.

“Ah, man, that bites. Hope he’s okay,” Marketta stated.

“Me, too.”

“Well, look, I know you like to get your sleep on when it’s your day off, so I’ll let you go. You think about what I said.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Von smarted, making a snappy salute in the mirror.

“Fool.” Marketta laughed and disconnected the call.

Von put the cordless phone in its cradle and went into the bathroom to shower. Though it was still early, only eight, she was too alert to return to bed now.

As she showered, Von considered Marketta’s words. Her cousin had a good heart, although the way she spoke sometimes, a person who didn’t know her would have difficulty believing it. Her main concern was that Von hadn’t experienced life. Marketta thought she was too sheltered and if she married Derrick now, Von would regret it later on. She wanted her to get out there and experiment, taste freedom, enjoy a bit of variety and then, if Derrick was still who Von wanted, marry him with a clear conscious knowing she’d made the best choice.

Knowing that Von’s mother’s lifestyle of drugs and men had put her off the idea of sleeping around, Marketta pushed instead for Von to take the plunge with Derrick, see what he was like as a lover
before
she said ‘I do.’ Something Von agreed with, but not for the reasons Marketta stated.

She and Derrick had been a couple since she was fifteen and he eighteen. At the time, she’d been spending most of her time at Marketta’s trying to avoid her momma’s various live-in boyfriends who thought breaking in a ‘pretty young thing’ was a wonderful idea. Sex was the last thing on her mind, and she’d been happy to finally find a boyfriend, a senior no less, who respected her values. Who respected
her
, and wasn’t just spouting words to lower her guard so he could get into her pants. They held hands and kissed, but Derrick wasn’t touchy-feely like other guys. It was wonderful.

Like her, Derrick came from a single parent home, only he lived with his father while she lived with her mother. Derrick didn’t like talking about his mother. It upset him every time the subject came up. Since she pretty much felt the same way about hers, it was simply another level where they’d connected.

After a few months of seeing each other, Derrick had taken her home to meet his father. Pastor Derrick had invited her to attend their church, and she’d gone, not knowing what to expect. Only knowing her agreement seemed to make Derrick happy.

Their relationship had lasted through Derrick’s four years of military service. Derrick had started hinting at marriage while he was in seminary. The wedding was still a year away since Derrick wanted a chance to settle in his new position as junior pastor of the church before marrying. But Von was getting impatient. Did Derrick want her because he loved her as much as she loved him, or because she made the ‘perfect’ minister’s wife and his daddy approved of her?

Pastor Wilkins had spent the last eight years training Von to be Derrick’s wife. Monitoring where she went, who she hung out with, influencing what college she attended and even which career she chose, and making sure there was no other man in the picture. Since she loved Derrick and knew even in high school that he was the one she wanted to marry, Von hadn’t minded—much.

In fact, she owed Derrick’s father a great deal. Understanding that her home situation was undesirable, he’d pulled some strings and used his connections to help her get her first efficiency apartment, despite her young age. He’d taken her around and helped her get decent furnishings dirt cheap, and been instrumental in helping her find work in what eventually became her field of study—respiratory therapy. He’d even talked one of the church members into giving Von her first car.

But now that she was older with her own career, her own apartment, and her own life, Von was troubled by how much of their lives Derrick Senior still seemed to dictate. That’s why she’d begun listening to Marketta more and more. Well, that and the fact that she was twenty-six and no longer a scared teenager. Von wanted to know what she and Derrick were missing out on.

While still a virgin, Von was no stranger to sexual pleasure. She’d learned self-gratification, but wanted to know what sex would be like with the man she loved. She thought Derrick felt the same way. Sometimes their necking would turn into heavy petting. Derrick always called a halt before things got too far, but with each session it was getting harder and harder for Von to hold back, longer to regain her balance. It bugged her that Derrick seemed to have so much control. Last night was the first time she’d seen him crack.

If only his daddy hadn’t called...

The man must be psychic. Every time she and Derrick came close to crossing any lines, the phone rang. Who was she kidding? Maybe it was God using Pastor Wilkins to keep them from making a huge mistake.

Sighing, she turned off the shower, dried off and went into the room to dress. She had a lot of chores to do today and they wouldn’t get done with her sitting around the apartment.

Staff Sergeant Sean “Cougar” Jacobson looked around the quarters that had been his and what remained of his team’s home for the last six weeks. It was good to be back in the US. He had eight weeks of leave coming to him and this time, he was taking them. While he was away, he had decisions to make. One of which was whether to re-enlist. After his team’s last botched job, the decision was not as easy as it should have been.

Each time he left on a mission, he knew this one could possibly be his last. The knowledge that he might not make it back alive had always been acceptable as long as the mission was successful. Now, however, after experiencing torture firsthand, Sean was no longer quite so confident that the military was his life as he’d come to believe.

Then there was the other thing that happened to him...

Corporal Cameron “Spook” Rodriguez slapped him on the back, interrupting his musings. “Serge, you remember what I taught you. Call if you run into any
problems
.” Spook arched his eyebrows meaningfully.

Sean gave a brief grin. “I doubt I will. Your instructions were very detailed and thorough.” His smile faded. “I never thanked you.”

Spook flushed. “Ah, don’t mention it.”

“I have to. What you did for me and the others, you saved our lives.” Spook was the youngest, most inexperienced member of his team, and surprisingly had turned out to be the one with the ability to save them all.

Spook looked down at the carpet. “Some would say I damned you for all eternity.”

“Hey! I’d rather be,” he glanced around furtively and lowered his voice, “a werewolf—”

“Lycan,” Spook corrected.

“Lycan,” Sean corrected himself, “than dead.”

Spook raised haunted eyes to Sean. “Too bad the others didn’t feel that way.”

He laid a comforting hand on Spook’s shoulder. “Cam, you tried. You made the offer when you didn’t have to. Those of us who took it—”

“Who survived,” Spook interjected.

“Who survived,” Sean acknowledged, “appreciate you for doing so.”

Their special ops team of ten had been ambushed while on a mission to find and destroy a newly formed al Quid’a cell the government got wind of in the jungles of Central America. Those who hadn’t died in the ensuing firefight had been captured and held hostage. The terrorist bastards had no intentions of releasing them, but got their jollies torturing them one at a time for information they knew the men hadn’t possessed.

It was then that Spook revealed he was Lycan born. First he explained what it meant, and then he offered to transform them. The process was not without its own share of danger. First they had to survive a vicious attack by Spook in wolf-man form. Unlike in werewolf legends, a simple bite wouldn’t do. If Spook managed not to kill them—and there was no guaranteeing he wouldn’t since the taste of blood could make him loose all control—then the virus could.

The L-virus is what transformed them into Lycans. The virus attached itself to the Y-chromosomes, causing delirium as their body temperature spiked to inhuman levels while the virus took hold. The onset lasted about thirty-six hours and it took about ninety-six for the virus to run its course, with the first twenty-four hours being the worst.

If the fever didn’t kill them, then they still had to survive their first shift with their sanity intact, which occurred during the first full moon after being bitten. Despite the risks, Sean had jumped at the opportunity. Given a choice between possible and sure death, he’d chosen transformation. As leader, he’d demanded to be first.

Of the eight of them that had been captured, two refused, one didn’t survive the attack and another didn’t survive his first change. And only the four Lycans—Spook, Weasel, Monk, and him—made it out of Central America alive.

“Well, remember the Lycan brotherhood is everywhere, even where you’re headed. You have any trouble, give me a call and I’ll put you in touch with folks who can help. You still have the numbers I gave you?”

Sean patted his chest pocket. “Right here.”

“Good.” Spook cleared his throat and seemed uncertain what to do next. He looked like a father who didn’t want to let his kid go off to college, but knew he had to release him to the real world sometime. Smiling wryly at the thought, Sean reached over and lifted his gear off the bed.

“You tell your girl I said hi. Bet she’ll be happy to see you.”

Adjusting the strap of his duffle on his shoulder, he corrected Spook. “She’s not my girl. Von’s engaged to a former army buddy.”