The Wolf's Call (Two-Natured London) (6 page)

This was not how Charly had
imagined her daring rescue would end, being marched through a dark park like a
naughty little girl, Rafe’s hand gripping her upper arm like a vice. “Let go of
me, you brute. This is undignified.” But Rafe only paused long enough to detach
Bob from the low railing she had tied it to, putting distance between them and
the assailants they had left behind.

She
tried to reason with him. “Shouldn’t we at least do something about the men?” His
face set in grim lines, he didn’t answer. She had often wanted to find a man
who would match her in willpower, but now that she had, she wasn’t sure she
appreciated him. “We can’t just leave them there. What if they attack someone else?”

He
turned to give her a stern look. “If you’d gone to fetch the security like I
told you to do, they would be dealing with those men right now.”

Well,
that stung. “I told you I don’t take orders well.”

“And
that is why you now have to face whatever those men get into their heads to do
when they wake up.”

Charly’s
stomach fell when the uncomfortable truth sank in. She should at least have
called security, even if she hadn’t run to safety. But it wasn’t too late for
that now. She fished her mobile phone out of her pocket with her free hand and
pushed the speed dial for the security desk.

“You’re
not calling the police, are you?” Rafe asked.

The
question startled her. She, a lawyer, hadn’t even considered it. She shook her
head. “The building security.”

“Good.”
Before she realised what he was about, he had taken the phone from her.

“Rafe
here. Send a couple of trackers to the Hyde Park, northern shore of the
Serpentine, near where the Ring meets the Serpentine road. Three outsiders.” He
listened to the other end, grunting in response, before ending the call and
handing the phone back to her.

She
had to admit that he had handled the call much more efficiently than she would
have, but she still felt miffed that he had just taken over. At least he let go
of her arm and allowed her to walk on her own, but he kept taking long,
powerful strides, forcing her almost to run to keep up.

Charly
couldn’t understand why Rafe was so angry with her for not following his
orders. Surely he had got her measure better than that by now. He had been so
wonderful before the attack, wrapping his arm companionably around her waist,
making her think that he might be after more than just sex. Being treated like
a witless female after she had begun to warm up to his other qualities seemed
almost cruel.

Her
bad mood lasted until they were back in Jack’s flat, where Rafe peeled off his
leather jacket, revealing a large dark stain on the side of the long-sleeved
t-shirt he was wearing underneath. Her heart skipped a beat in worry, her anger
forgotten. “Oh, my God! You’re hurt.” The wound looked bad.

Rafe
glanced down, as if only now noticing it. “Oh, that. It’s nothing. It’s just a
scratch.”

“A
scratch? A scratch doesn’t bleed that much.” Her voice sounded shrill, but she
couldn’t help it. The fight had been brutal, but until now she hadn’t thought
it could have been fatal.

The
realisation that Rafe could actually have died put the fight into a different
light. A brawl wasn’t something that normally impressed her, but he had been
amazing. The three guys hadn’t hesitated playing the odds, attacking all at the
same time, but Rafe had dealt with them with ruthless skill. Nonetheless, she
had been really frightened for him and so, instead of fleeing, she had stayed
to see that he came to no harm. When she had noticed the last man lunge at
Rafe, she hadn’t thought about her own safety but had just run in and doused
the bastard with pepper spray.

Her
legs began to shake when it dawned on her that she might have been hurt too,
but she gritted her teeth and forced her body to quiet. It was no use expecting
sympathy from him. He had kissed her senseless and had then treated her like an
idiot female again, ordering her about. Well, two could play that game. “Take
off your shirt.”

A slow
smile spread on his face that made her insides melt with the promise it held,
but she hardened herself. “Gladly,” he drawled. He grabbed the tail of his grey
shirt with both hands and pulled it over his head, revealing a tight abdomen
and muscled chest dusted with light hair, just like she had hoped. Distracted
by the sight, it took her a moment to check his wounds.

She
blinked in surprise. He was right. There wasn’t a gaping hole in his side from
which he would have been bleeding to death. Come to think of it, there weren’t
any signs of the other hits she had seen him take either – no black eye or a
split lip in sight. Even though it was evident that he had bled profusely at
some point, his side displayed only four red puncture marks that had already
closed.

As she
stared at the wounds that on anyone else would have needed emergency surgery,
one thing became clear. “So you are a wolf-shifter.” He could have been any
shifter, really, with such rapid healing, but she knew he was the wolf she had
seen.

He
didn’t deny it this time. “Yeah. Does it bother you?” he asked gruffly.

She
lifted her gaze from the wounds to his face. There was an oddly vulnerable look
in his eyes and her heart reached out to him. She wanted to assure him that she
still liked him, although until now she hadn’t even realised she actually did.
That she wanted him was self-evident, but it was surprising to discover that
there was more to her feelings than lust.

Since
her answer clearly mattered to him, she gave it the thought it deserved. “No,
not really,” she said truthfully after a while. His muscles relaxed visibly.
“But I haven’t faced your shifter side yet.” That might change everything. “I’m
more upset because you lied to me.”

He
grimaced. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did it. I’m never shy about the truth.”

Since
she had already put some thought into that, she just nodded. “Feelings have
been running a bit high lately. You couldn’t know that I’m not a bigot.” She
hadn’t known it herself.

That
made him smile. “I’m fairly sure you’re not,” he said, but she had to shake her
head.

“I was
raised by humans-only parents. My father is especially strict about it. This is
the first time I’m dealing with someone that I know is a two-natured.” Then,
because she really wanted to know, she turned the tables. “Do you deal with
humans a lot? Date them?”

She
tried to keep the tone light, as if she wasn’t suggesting anything, but to her
surprise his face turned serious. “I actually try to avoid dating humans.”

It
wasn’t the answer she had hoped for and her heart sank. “Why?”

He
raked his hair, aggravated, causing it to stand on its end, searching for an
answer. “Humans don’t make good partners for shifters,” he settled with, but
she got a notion it wasn’t the whole truth.

“Who
said anything about becoming partners?” she said, but the upset his words
caused seemed to indicate that she was actually willing for something more. She
looked at him from under her lashes to gauge his reaction, but she only met his
unyielding stare. Apparently she wasn’t the only prejudiced here.

Searching
for a way out of the embarrassing situation, she turned her attention back to
his wounds. “Come, let’s wash this blood off.” She led him to Jack’s bathroom
where the first-aid kit was, not that he needed its contents anymore. She
wetted a facecloth, and even though he could have done the cleaning up himself,
she did it for him. She wiped his side carefully with the cloth until the blood
came off and all that was left were the remains of the puncture marks, already
lightening.

Fascinated
by his rapid healing, she ran her fingers over the marks. He inhaled sharply,
causing the defined muscles in his abdomen to stand out, and she snatched her
hand away. “Does it hurt?”

“Not
there, baby.” His voice was deep and gravelly again. She glanced down and saw
his erection straining the front of his jeans, and a warm blush spread all over
her body. Frightened by how easily he could get her going, she fought the
arousal, still hurt that he didn’t consider her worth more than a lay. A slow
smile spread on his face as he watched her struggle. “Scared?”

The
challenge made her competitive nature come to her aid. “I’m not scared of
anything.” An obvious lie, because she was terrified. She couldn’t afford to
lose her self-control, but he put a constant strain on her willpower like
nothing had before.

He had
been leaning against the counter around the sink while she cleaned his wounds,
but now he straightened up. His bare chest was only inches from her face and
his wonderful scent invaded all of her, further weakening her resolve. He
flashed a grin that was definitely wolfish, but also very appreciative. “No,
you’re not. Otherwise you wouldn’t have attacked an aggressive male
wolf-shifter armed with only pepper spray.”

Charly’s
knees gave in under her and she had to take a hold of the counter to keep from
falling, but he was already there. He pulled her against his chest, steadying
her with his strong arms. “I didn’t know they weren’t human,” she said in a
small voice that didn’t sound like her. She had thought they were demonstrators
attacking anyone who didn’t immediately side with them.

He
tightened his embrace and the feel of his warm, bare chest helped her to banish
the lingering fright. She wanted to rub her face on the hair there like a cat
scent-marking things. Only the memory of his rejection made her stop. She
couldn’t claim ownership of a man who didn’t want her. Never mind that it
wasn’t in her nature to want to claim a man in the first place.

She
stiffened and tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. He lifted her chin
with his hand and gave her a searching look. “You’re not afraid of risking
yourself for someone else, but you are afraid of something,” he murmured,
studying her face. “What is it?”

It had
to be the way he made her feel so safe that caused her to confess it. “I used
to have these uncontrollable rages when I was a little girl. They stopped after
therapy, but I’m still unable to just let go. Especially with men. I’m
frightened to lose control of myself.”

He
looked surprised and then a bit amused. “You’ve let go with me just fine. I can
understand why something like that would frighten a child, but you’re a grown
woman now.”

He
clearly didn’t understand. “What if I’m not strong enough to get back in
control?”

He
leaned back in his embrace to better look her in the eyes. “I am. Just let go
and I’ll catch you.”

A
wonderful elation surged through her for his words. He really could do that.
The feeling wasn’t merely sexual, although her arousal had returned. The
emotion was stronger. She stared at him almost in awe and the words just got
out of her mouth. “I wish my father could know you.”

His
mood changed instantly. He withdrew and pulled his arms away, leaving her
feeling cold and rejected. And utterly upset. She knew he wasn’t looking for
anything permanent, but surely the thought of meeting her father shouldn’t
cause that great a reaction.

“I’d
better leave before we do something we both will regret,” he said, and his tone
was very cold.

For
once her strength failed her and she didn’t know what to say. She only knew
that she didn’t want him to leave. “I don’t think I can face being alone.” She
wasn’t even ashamed of confessing it.

He
closed his eyes tightly and let his head slump. When he lifted his eyes to meet
hers again, they were devoid of the earlier humour and warmth. “Fine. I’ll stay
over, but I have to monitor the hunt. Don’t worry,” he added with a sneer, “I
promise I’ll be a gentleman.”

Gentleman. Raphael hadn’t
known he was one. True, he was born the son of a gentleman at a time when that
had actually meant something, even for the two-natureds, if only a certain
leisurely lifestyle and proper education. By the time of his birth in the
1870s, all sentients had been dispelled to the Americas, so there hadn’t been
anyone to out shifters or vampires who’d wanted an Oxbridge education. He had
taken full advantage of the chances given to him from the start. Jamie had had
to wait until the pact of 1827 between sentients and vampires to receive his
education.

But as
he was sitting on a sofa in Jack’s living room, brooding over a glass of
excellent whisky he had liberated from Jack’s liquor cabinet, Rafe was fairly
certain that the definition of a gentleman had undergone a great change over
the past century. These days it basically meant a bloke who didn’t take
advantage of a woman who had suffered a great shock. Though he hadn’t known
he’d have it in him to do so. Not with Charly anyway. Yet he had only watched
her disappear into her bedroom without so much as a goodnight’s kiss.

Then
again, it hadn’t been that difficult, really. He had been fully prepared to
have sex with her, and he knew that she had been willing too, and had been from
the moment he’d walked into the flat. He hadn’t even minded that she was
sending signals of being interested in more than just sex, something that
usually made him beat a hasty retreat. His wolf agreed with her, even if the
man didn’t. But then she had revealed the real reason for her willingness to be
more than a bed-mate to him, and he had gone cold inside.

She
wanted to show him off to her father, the bigot. Here he had been thinking that
she was different, that she was actually interested in what he was as well as
who he was. She had seemed so in the park with all her questions. But she was
just like all humans, willing to use him against her parents and then cast him
away.

The
revelation of her true colours had made him utterly disappointed, forcing him
to admit that he had begun to side with his wolf after all. He would have
pursued her in earnest and taken whatever short time they’d have had together.
Now he told his wolf that they would do things his way. He would bed her and
then have done with her. Because there was no pretending he didn’t still want
her. The mere thought of her snuggling under a warm duvet in the next room
brought back his hard-on, and he had to grab the arm of the sofa to restrain
himself from going to her.

Even
that might not have been enough, if he hadn’t been worried for her safety. He
needed to stay alert in case the attackers came back. His firm had been buying
land in Betchworth for two years already and nothing like the attack had
happened before. It could only mean that Charly had already found something
important. Thank gods they had come after him and not her, although it was worrying
enough to realise that they had been able to find him so easily.

He had
spent the evening organising a hunt for their assailants. He informed the local
clan leaders about the intruders to their territory. Although the attack had
been against Rafe, they had to be given a chance to retaliate the violation of
clan protocol. The attack, however, was first and foremost against his clan.
He’d called Jamie and together they’d tried to figure out what was going on.
The papers Charly had left on the dining table outlined every person she had
already contacted, but they were only officials and gave Rafe and Jamie nothing
to work with.

Now he
could only wait and watch over Charly for her safety, which put the greatest
strain on his resolve to stay out of her bedroom. He had paced up and down the
vast room, a mobile phone in one hand and a whisky glass in the other,
listening to sounds from outside. Bob had paced with him for a while, but once
it realised this new game wasn’t leading anywhere, it had settled down on its
mattress and gone to sleep.

Growing
bored with the pacing himself, he had sat down to nurture his drink. And that
had given him too much time to think of Charly. Why did she have to be human?
He had only known her for two days and already the thought of grieving her
after she was dead was upsetting him. It was best not to even start anything
with her.

There
was a discreet scratch on the front door. Rafe opened it for the two security
guys who had been doing the tracking in the park, a lion and a leopard: an
uneasy combination, but not impossible. Not surprisingly, they came back
empty-handed, the assailants having woken up and left before the trackers
reached them. But they had managed to follow the trail to a car park where it
had disappeared, where the men had gotten into a car and drove away. “There’s a
CCTV camera monitoring the place though, so we’ll get the footage in the
morning, or Monday the latest,” the lion-shifter explained.

Satisfied
with the results so far, Rafe dismissed the men and returned to the sofa. He
might as well get some sleep. He tossed and turned for a long time, struggling
with the need to sneak in the bedroom where Charly was sleeping and slip under
the duvet with her. And to his surprise, he realised he just wanted to hold
her.

Eventually,
he fell asleep, only to wake up to the smell of frying bacon.