The Legend of the Werewolf (12 page)

Mike stared at her hard. “Where you
work has nothing to do with how smart you are.” Hell, his own boss
was an idiot.

Another pained groan from Chris pulled
them out of their conversation. Anne’s hand gripped Mike’s like she
was a woman in labor.

He grit his teeth, swallowed the pain
from crunching bones, and let her do what she needed to
do.

Westley’s voice came back to them,
still speaking encouragement to his friend. "That's it, you're
almost done. Stay awake, your wings aren't entirely in
yet."

After what felt like
forever,
Westley deemed the wings small enough to release, allowing
them to disappear into Chris's back on their own. They left behind
deep cuts that exposed chunks of flesh, likely the product of being
attacked while he flew. Westley grabbed more bandages and creams
and proceeded to wrap him up.

How long would it take for wounds like
that to heal? If he knew his dragon studies, Chris would be at a
hundred percent in just a few days.

Anne fidgeted. "He’ll be okay. Right? I
mean, he looks better now that he’s human again, don’t you
think?"

Mike looked at her. “Yeah,” he said,
his voice coming out in a croak.

She quirked an eye at him, then looked
down and saw how tight she was gripping his hand.

She abruptly released him. “I’m so
sorry.”

He shook out the poor abused limb,
“Don’t mention it.”

All three heads of the men inside the
barn spun to where Mike and Anne were standing. Westley moved away
from his unconscious charge and pulled Anne into an embrace that
she sank into.

"He'll be fine. He's going to be fine,"
he said.

Anne sighed gratefully into his
shoulder and Mike hoped her friend’s comforting words would be
enough.

He didn't expect Westley to turn his blue
eyes on him, reach his hand out, and yank him into a brief hug like
he'd done with Anne. Though Mike was huge, even next to Westley,
Westley’s strength gave him no choice in the matter. He was going
to be held, like it or not. "Thanks for helping."

Westley slapped his back in a friendly
manner before stepping away, not waiting for Mike's response before
returning to Chris' side.

Anne went with him, though her nose did
squish as the scent of blood, blanketed by disinfectant, thickened
the closer they got. Mike hesitantly followed, unsure of his
welcome in such a place.

"As soon as we have him cleaned up, we'll
move him to a bed," Bill stated, picking up the ruined clothes and
folding them neatly, as though they wouldn’t be going in the
trash.

Westley went down on his knees and
started rolling the bandages anywhere his friend needed them. Which
was almost everywhere. "We'll have to be quiet about it. Dad
doesn't even like that he invited him here. He'll hate it if he
actually has to be nice to him."

Mike shook his head at himself, guilt
racking him again. "What’s the kid’s number? I’ll call his
parents," he said as no one seemed to be thinking in that
direction.

"Kid? Parents?" Bill sputtered, a small
laugh on his lips. "He's a good deal older than you, I'd
say."

"What?" Mike looked at Chris’ face, color
was already beginning to return to his cheeks. It allowed Mike to
take in the youthful features of someone who had yet to finish
growing. The old man had to have made a mistake.

Chris looked like he could still be in
high school.

"You're kidding."

He expected everyone else to be in on the
joke despite the serious situation. However, no one gave him the
impish grin that usually came with the territory.

Westley explained, still refusing to
take his eyes away from his task. "It's a common misconception that
because dragons live longer they look their age. They don't. They
maintain their youthful appearances up until about the age of two
hundred."

Mike hadn't known that. There were a few
vampires on the force, even a witch, but no dragons. Were there any
dragons even living in Griffon City? Everything he knew about them
came from books. Even then dragons were mentioned in passing, not
seriously studied since they were such a private race.

Having Bill chuckle and point to the
boy laying in the stack of hay, telling him that he was older than
Mike made him curious. "How old is he?"

"One hundred and twelve,” Westley
answered.

Whoa
. Guess that meant he didn’t have to
talk ethics with Westley.

Westley looked to Brock. “Could you go
to my house and make sure the spare room has sheets on the
bed?"

Brock jumped up like a faithful
servant and ran out of the barn to do as he was told. Mike was
still gaping at the injured
kid
.

"Gordon isn't going to like that," Anne
warned.

Westley gently lifted the red-haired man
into his arms and followed Brock. "He can get over it. I'm tired of
this."

Mike still stared as the werewolf
carried the dragon to cleaner lodgings.

***

Anne waited until things calmed down
before she asked Westley if he’d found the moon stone. His answer
disappointed her. She had to walk back to the cabin and tell Mike
that Westley couldn't find it. Gordon must’ve moved it or given it
to someone for safe keeping.

"Like who? Who in your pack would your
pack master trust with something like that?" He asked.

Anne went through a mental list of the
people Gordon trusted. She stopped when she couldn’t think of
anyone. “I don’t know.”

She sighed and stared out the window at
the setting sun.

It had been hours since Chris’ crash and
she had yet to visit him. Gordon’s orders.

Between the lack of sleep, Chris'
accident, and listening to the loud yelling match between Gordon
and Westley that later ensued, from all the way across the ranch,
dealing with Mike's questions were torture. She was
beat.

She couldn't wait for the other pack
members to arrive. She wanted to get her plan up and running. The
sooner she and Westley got out of this sham of an engagement, the
better.

She couldn't keep her eyes from
traveling along Mike's body. He half lay, half sat in the chair
opposite her with his feet next to hers on the coffee table. Even
relaxed, his muscles made him huge.

“Anne?”

She shook herself. “Hmm,
what?”

He was eyeing her as though wondering
where she went. “You okay?”

Anne blinked. "Oh, yeah. Uh, Gordon might
have given the stone to Bill, but it’s doubtful. I’d bet he just
hid it somewhere."

Mike sank further into his seat and
rubbed his eyes. "Great."

She launched herself from the couch by
the window. "Don't give up! I'll go talk to Bill right
now."

She made a half turn to go directly to the
door before his voice halted her. "Look, I know you want to get out
of your marriage. I also know the opinion of a pack master is
usually a strong incentive, but why can't you just say no? I don't
think he'll grab a shot gun and force either of you down the
aisle."

She clenched her fists. "Knowing him,
he probably would."

Her eyes met Mike's. He had a single
eyebrow raised at her.

She relented. "Alright, he probably
wouldn't, but disobeying him means leaving the pack."

“I know that. Disobedience usually
does, but nowadays pack masters are more open to letting that rule
slide.”

Anne crinkled her nose and went to the
fridge, popping it open. “You don’t know Gordon.”

She moved the OJ and water jug
out of the way until her hand found the cold neck of a
Coors
bottle. The fridge
had been stocked for her and their guest. There was an almost whole
chicken inside. Half of it was missing, along with half of the loaf
of bread that had been wrapped up. Mike must’ve eaten while waiting
for her to get back.

Probably pissed him off, being stuck in
a cabin by himself with a wolf watching outside to make sure he
went nowhere. Anne figured she was lucky he left her anything at
all.

She twisted off the cap of her beer and
took an angry swig when Mike’s voice came to her.

"You must really love your
pack."

She swallowed, lowered the bottle, and
nodded as painful memories floated up from the haze where she
buried them. "They took me in, risking a lot to do so."

He nodded. "Right, you're a turned
wolf."

Since he was a Griffon City cop, she knew
telling him exactly who turned her would be a mistake. She’d be an
idiot to assume he didn’t suspect though. "Right."

Mike settled more comfortably into his
seat. "When you explained your plan to Westley, you didn't look too
concerned when he mentioned that it wouldn't prevent him from
having to get married."

Her face heated with bitter rage. Her fist
shattered the bottle she held, beer and glass rained down on her
feet. "You've been here a day so don't look at me and hint
something like that."

The high octave of her voice didn't faze
him. He didn’t even look down at the broken glass at her feet. "So,
if your plan works, what will you do to stop him from being married
off? He and the dragon looked pretty close. What will happen to
them?”

Anne gaped at him. How in the Hell did
he—?

“I’m a cop, remember.” Mike tapped the
side of his head with his finger. “I notice things.”

For the first time in … ever, Anne
examined her behavior throughout the course of her engagement to
Westley.

All of the secret meetings they’d had with
Chris centered on her escape from the upcoming wedding. What
excuses could she give to Gordon, things she could do to make him
call off the wedding? How running away wasn’t an option.

At the time, she’d been focused on getting
herself free, thinking in the back of her mind that when she was
out of the engagement, Westley would naturally follow. She figured
Gordon had to see that what he was doing to his son was
wrong.

Right. Like that would’ve
happened.

It made her angry, angry at herself that
it had taken so long for her to see the truth. She’d done virtually
nothing to help her best friend. Even if she got out of this mess,
he wouldn’t.

“Don’t think of your friends much, do
you?”

Wrong thing to
say.

Anger boiled like bubbling acid. Her
fingernails grew long and sharp, biting the skin where she clenched
them as her teeth tingled and moved to become the incisors that
would mark her for what she was.

Westley was known for his calm temper.
She, however, wasn't.

A white light passed over her eyes,
followed by the blaring horn of a truck. She blinked her eyes and
shook away the instability that nearly took her. Her nails righted
themselves and the tingling in her teeth left her. The wolf went
back to the sleep.

Mike stood firmly. She hadn’t seen him
rise from his seat. His fists were clenched, knees bent as though
ready to spring. Ready to fight.

Another light from another car passed
over her eyes, its headlights illuminating the room better than the
light fixture on the ceiling ever could. Illuminating Mike’s
scowl.

Her face heated with unbearable
shame.

“I’m sorry.”

“
You’re not very good at
controlling yourself. Might’ve been a mistake for your master to
put you with me.”

Her eyes fell away from him, unable to
stand the scowl any longer. She couldn’t help her temper
sometimes.

Outside another car passed, the lights
sweeping across the cabin. It parked with the other trucks and vans
outside of Gordon's house. Through the windows, she could see the
drivers and passengers all but hopping out and running to Gordon’s
door.

Why were so many pack members suddenly
showing up?

With a start, she realized they were here
for Mike.

Why so many of them?

It didn’t matter. The fact was that they
were here and it only left her a few minutes to tell him how sorry
she was for nearly tearing his head off, again.

"God, I'm so sorry."

She took a step towards him and he took
a step back. "Stay away from me."

"
I'm not dangerous
." That was the last thing she wanted
him to think. Not just because of what he could do for
her.

"I'm not dangerous," she said again,
pleased with how even her voice was despite the hurricane of
emotions swirling inside her.

His eyes were unforgiving, skeptical,
cop eyes. "That's the second time you became angry enough to nearly
lose it around me. You are dangerous."

She crossed her arms. “Afraid of a
girl?”

“
Only afraid of having to hurt
one in self-defense.”