The Wolf Fount (7 page)

“No whiskey tonight?” Morgan propped her right elbow on the bar top, resting her chin in her hand while watching his face.

“I like to save it for later in the evening.” He ran his fingers down her back, feeling her shiver in response. “Any reason you left in such a hurry this morning?”

Morgan surprised him with a candid answer. “Habit. Guy in the shower has always been my signal to leave. I’ve been working as an escort and hooker for years.”

Cal almost said “I know,” but instead, curious how much she might reveal, simply nodded. “I see.”

The faint smile she’d been wearing had faded. “I want a new life, and now, with this,” she indicated herself, and presumably, her Awakening, with a low wave of her hand, “I think I don’t have much choice about getting one.”

Their beers were delivered, and he pushed hers over. “Nearly everyone has to start over when it happens.”

Morgan took a long swallow of her beer before meeting his eyes. “Do you think less of me now that you know I’m a whore?”

“You were one,” he corrected with a shake of his head. “People do what they have to for survival. That’s not the worst path you could’ve chosen.”

She leaned closer, and Cal followed suit. “I don’t do drugs. Never been involved with them by choice.”

“Good to know.” He hesitated, studying her face. “Do you need a job?”

Morgan straightened, began fiddling with the label on her beer bottle. “I have some money, but it’s not going to last forever. What kind of job?” Then she laughed. “It’s not like I have a long list of marketable skills. I know one thing extremely well.”

Cal smiled. “That you do, but since you’re wanting out of it, how about learning some new skills? I could use a personal assistant.”

He didn’t, but thought she’d require close supervision for a while after her Awakening. Keeping her close suited him just fine for now. Morgan pursed her lips, staring at the bar top. “What does a personal assistant do?”

“Runs errands, fields calls, and keeps me on schedule for meetings and the like. You interested?”

She worried her bottom lip. “I don’t know if I’d be any good at that.”

“Listen, darlin’, you’re going to have to expand your boundaries. Learn things in order to turn over your new leaf. You know, make an effort? You’re not stupid, and while it may not be easy, you’re perfectly capable of doing a number of things that don’t involve sex.” Cal grinned. “But we could make that a perk for us both.”

Morgan arched an eyebrow. “Still thinking with your di... cock?”

“Guilty.” He winked at her. “No hurry. Think it over. You have maybe two days to go, and you’ll need some time to adjust afterward.”

“All right.” Her lips curved. “Salary and benefits would be useful information to have.”

“I’ll work up a proposal and have you look it over,” he promised. She nodded in agreement. “Great. Have you had dinner? I was going to order something.”

Morgan lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “I could eat.”

C
alhoun wasn’t treating her any differently after her confession. Morgan felt relieved and uncharacteristically grateful. He’d ordered dinner and led her to his private booth, which was located behind a half-wall next to the DJ booth. Lattice ran from a dropped ceiling to the wall’s top. A curtain of beads covered the booth’s entrance.

It was quieter, both booths ensconced behind the club’s built-in speaker system. Even so, Morgan realized the booth afforded a nearly complete view of the club’s dancefloor, with little effort. “You like to watch all the time.”

He laughed. “I have to. It’s part of my job.”

“As club owner, or?” She cut another bite of prime rib. Takeout in his world apparently didn’t involve Styrofoam containers and greasy paper bags. It had been delivered on white china plates, with heavy silverware.

“As the Fount, and last living one at that. Guess you could call me a king of sorts.” Calhoun shrugged. “It’s my job to keep as much of an eye as possible on my people.”

“Is everyone here one?”

“No, some are like you. Sleepers, we call them. Some are human. Actually, most of the women here are human.”

Morgan mulled that over while slicing another bite. “Why?”

“Not a lot of women in our ranks. About seventy-five percent of Weres are male. We were changed to fight, and men do have a tendency to be bigger, more aggressive and violent.” He’d finished his dinner and pushed the plate away.

It made sense, but brought up another question. “So the women stay home and pop out babies?”

He chuckled. “Some do. Those who’ve chosen mates and enjoy the whole process of having and raising children. Others do what they’re good at, and want to do. One of my top soldiers is a woman. I have men who are house husbands. We’re as diverse as humans are.”

“Good to hear.” Becoming a brood cow wasn’t her idea of turning over a new leaf. Morgan glanced at the front of the booth and caught a glimpse of bright blue. “You fuck a lot of humans?”

Calhoun cocked his head. “Over the years, or currently?”

What the hell kind of answer was that? “Currently. That’s what this place is, right? A meat market.”

She sat back, tracking the blonde’s progress toward the booth from the corner of her eye.

“Everyone needs to unwind from time to time. Currently,” his grin made an appearance, “you’re the only woman I’m spending any quality time with.”

Quality time. Funny way of putting it, but Morgan decided she rather liked the phrasing, and smiled. “Does that make me special?”

His grin widened. “You were special before that.”

The blonde had finally reached the booth, and was hovering just outside the beads. Morgan leaned toward him. “Feel like spending some more quality time with me?”

“Depends. Are you planning on taking off before sunrise again?”

“No.”

“Cal?” The blonde stuck her head in. The other woman was pretty smokin’, Morgan had to admit, as they both looked at her. “Hi.”

Calhoun smiled, not immediately responding, and Morgan nearly snorted.
Just like a man. He can’t even remember her name
.

His smile was enough implied invitation for the blonde to step inside, wiggling her way to the table’s edge. As she reached it, he blinked, and Morgan could almost see the connection being made. “Patty. Nice to see you again, darlin’.”

“I heard you were back, and decided to come out to see you.” She shot a quick glance at Morgan. “I’ve missed you.”

You mean, decided to come stake a claim
. Morgan picked up her wine glass.

Calhoun ignored the blonde’s subtle offer. “Well, nice of you. You look great. Have you met Morgan?”

Patty pouted. “No.”

“Morgan, this is Patty, one of our regulars. Morgan’s new in town.”

“Pleased to meet you, Patty,” Morgan said, slanting a look at the blonde.
You are out of luck tonight, Blondie
.

“Same here,” was Patty’s smiling, teeth-clenched response. “Would you mind if I borrowed Cal for a few minutes?”

“Sorry, but we were just about to head upstairs,” he said. “Maybe some other time, darlin’.”

His rejection sent her shoulders slumping, and Patty edged backward. “Oh, sorry for interrupting.”

Morgan couldn’t resist making a jab after hearing him call the other woman darlin’ twice. “Don’t worry, you didn’t.”

She met the blonde’s scowl with a wide smile after Patty turned her back to Calhoun. Glaring daggers, Patty said, “Nice meeting you.”

“Same here. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, since you’re a regular and all.”
I will jack you up
, Morgan silently promised the other woman.
Don’t fuck with me
.
Don’t get in my way
.

W
atching the silent, and not-so-silent, byplay between the two women, Cal was torn between laughter and dismay. If a catfight exploded, his money was on Morgan. She played dirty.

He didn’t remember saying anything to Patty that may have led her to believe a relationship was in the mix. In fact, he was careful never to imply he was interested in a long-term relationship. Unfortunately, some people, both men and women, seemed to think a few nights spent in bed together segued directly into relationship territory.

A permanent intimate relationship wasn’t possible with Morgan either. The two of them could spend enough time together to get each other out of their systems, which was exactly what Cal planned for them to do.

But long-term was reserved for one woman, and only one: His Chimaera. Whenever she finally appeared. Until she did, he had to be careful about becoming involved with anyone beyond a certain point.

Maybe Thane would interest Morgan
? Cal tucked the thought away, uneasy at the brief flash of jealousy it aroused. Thane, the only were-liger in existence, was one of his most trusted companions—and not a man he’d ever felt jealousy toward. He slid out of his seat, and offered his hand. “Shall we, darlin’?”

“Oh, let’s.” Morgan took his hand and rose from her seat. Patty exited the booth, pausing outside to give him a longing glance as they followed. Cal smiled, mentally adding the blonde to his “Never touch again” list.

“Is she your normal type?” Morgan asked as they walked away, skirting the dancefloor.

“I don’t really have a type.”

“She’s jealous. How many times did you fu...”

He interrupted. “How many clients have you had?”

Her eyes flashed gold and bright green. “None of your goddamned business.”

“Exactly.”

Morgan had the grace to nod. “Sorry.”

“Already forgotten.” They reached the stairs and began climbing. Halfway up, Cal halted and turned, catching her chin with his fingers. Tilting her head up, he said, “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for, me asking that.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He kissed her. “It won’t happen again. Promise.”

She nodded as he let go, and they continued up the stairs.

A
few hours later, Cal absently stroked Morgan’s arm, which lay across his chest as she dozed beside him. Those electrical surges had turned to warm flickers, even those that occurred as he slid into her. He hadn’t figured out what they were yet, but was grateful they’d eased into less painful territory. Perhaps her Awakening included a touch of the psychic? He did have a few people with such abilities.

I really shouldn’t have asked her that
. Unless it involved useful skills or information, he left other people’s pasts alone. Their pasts were just that: their pasts.

If they wanted to share, that was one thing, and he’d listen. He tried to never judge, because his people began fresh with him, shedding their human lives with their Awakenings. And usually, after their Awakenings, he stepped back to let the system he’d built take over their training and placing them where they’d be most useful.

Yes, Morgan had been rude first, but her question hadn’t been unreasonable under the circumstances. Any woman would’ve been curious in that situation.

Though possibly less blunt. Cal half-smiled. Her bluntness was part of her odd charm, and really not a bad trait as far as he was concerned.

She stirred. “Buck for your thoughts.”

“Inflation?”

“Yeah.” Yawning, she rolled free and sat up, both her hands rising to smooth her hair. “What’s burning your brain cells, Calhoun?”

“That was shitty of me.”

Morgan hitched herself around until she could see his face and sat tailor-style. She was completely comfortable with her own nudity. He liked that kind of confidence in a woman. “What was?”

“Asking you that.” He sat up as well, scooting until his back was against the wall.

She snickered. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re the first guy I’ve ever met to worry if he’s hurt a whore’s feelings.”

Cal winced. “You’re not one anymore. That’s done with. New leaf now.”

“I guess, but my past isn’t going to disappear. I lived it. It’s a part of me.”

She’d dangled an opening for him, and he took it. “Actually, records of it can disappear, if you have any. I have friends in high places, and you aren’t the first Were with a past they want to walk away from.”

Morgan’s expression smoothed, and she tilted her head. “You can make my record disappear?”