Werewolf Me (11 page)

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Authors: Amarinda Jones

BOOK: Werewolf Me
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What started out as a vague interest to see what Bess and Murphy were talking about soon became more. Truro was quite surprised at how quickly she became caught up in reading werewolf mythology. Or in this case mythologies. Everyone had a different interpretation of werewolves from the hairy-faced schlock horror film characters, to bloodthirsty killers terrorizing a town, to soulful men looking for their true love. Truro stopped and thought about that. It sounded like Murphy. “Or maybe I just need to get out more and not have my head turned so easily by sex.” Her fingers skittered across the keys in search of more information. “But damn, it was bloody good sex.” She closed her eyes and crossed her legs as she thought up the surge of power that was Murphy as he took control over her heart and body and made her his own.

“Falling asleep in the library instead of at work, Tru?”

Truro looked up to see the amusement in Gil’s eyes. “No, really, if anyone tells you you’re not funny, don’t believe it.”

“You’re adorable.”

Truro grinned. “I know.”

Gil sat down beside her. “Anyone new at the caravan park?”

“Well gee, Gil, I suspect you already know the answer to that if you’re here to pump me for info.”

“Did I mention you’re also smart?”

Truro turned her attention to her friend. She could see something was worrying him. Truro had heard about the second wolf attack. She knew some of the local men planned on hunting the wolves. Truro had a feeling Gil, nature lover that he was, would be worried about what else they shot in the bush. “There’s a new guy in van eleven. He doesn’t like the wolves.”

“He a hunter?”

He’s a predator
. Gut instinct told her that. The man seemed to watch everyone and everything. He even freaked the barbeque boys out and that in itself was unusual for they cornered the market on all things odd. “He says not nor is he from around here. He sticks out like a sore thumb.”

“As do you.”

“Oh come on, Gillard. I’ve been here two freaking years. I’m a local.”
Sorta. Kinda. Oh hell, I never fit in anywhere.
That was why Truro kept on moving. Until now.
And why was that
? Visions of Murphy came to her.

“A local who chooses not to go farther than the edge of town.” Gil gave her a playful nudge.

I’ll have you know I was fucked up against a tree and I loved it. Too much information
. “Well, animals lurk in the bush.” If Murphy had not literally taken her there Truro would not have gone by herself.

“This is all because you ran into the spider’s nest nearly two years ago.”

Truro punched him on the shoulder. “Well, it was freakin’ huge. It could have eaten me whole.”

Gil snorted. “It ran away.”

“That’s not the point. Scary things lurk in the bush and my feet prefer concrete.” She thought back to the new man in town. “I suspect the old guy in number eleven is not a bush dweller either.”

“How old is he?”

Truro blew out a sigh. “I don’t know. Mid-seventies and he walks with a limp.”

This caught Gil’s attention. “A limp?”

“Why?”

“No reason.”

“Seems a lot of people are getting pretty vague around town when I ask questions.”

“Like who?”

“You and Bess and Murphy.” Truro noticed Gil didn’t blink when she mentioned Murphy’s name.
So Gil knows him as well. What is going on
? Had a secret club formed and she had missed out on membership? “So you know Murphy?”

“We’ve crossed paths.”

“Uh-huh.” Truro knew she would get no further information from Gil as he was sphinx-like unless it suited him. “Got all the research done you wanted?”

“Yes, thanks.” Gil reached over and tweaked her nose affectionately. “Anyone ever tell you you’re cute?”

“Bugger off, Gillard.”

———

“Have you seen him?”

“No but it may not be him.” Gil pointed out to William. “Truro gave a description of a stranger that could be just about anyone.”

“A seventy-year-old man with a limp? Ha! I think not, Gil. That’s Absolon.” William knew in his heart it was so. It was just like Absolon to hide in plain sight like this.
He’s taunting me.
“The clan is uneasy. They feel it too.”

Gil nodded. “Yes. Initially, I thought it was to do with the coming of the next fifty year change.”

“I agree with William. That man is Absolon and I’m not happy he has chosen to stay at the caravan park.” Murphy’s hand clenched into fists. “He has come back when we are weakest.”

“Yes, he wants me.” That was only too obvious to William.

“But why not just come at you and get this battle over and done with?” Gil questioned. “Why be at the van park just waiting?”

Murphy’s shoulders stiffened. “Because he wants us to know he knows who Truro is and her importance to the clan.”

William was not surprised Murphy had worked that out. While it was not openly acknowledged, everyone knew Murphy would be the next leader and the leader’s mate was always his weakness.

“Then he would know about Joan.” Gil did not look the slightest bit happy.

“Yes.” There was no point trying to pretty the words up. Both men’s women were targets, as Bess had been all those years ago. William thought for a while. “The woman—Joan—she is unusual. There is something about her I cannot put a finger on.” It was disquieting to feel that way. Knowing yet not knowing.

“Apparently, Joan Scott hunts paranormal beings. I tried to ask her more; however, she just fobbed me off like it was a joke. She doesn’t seem to like me much.”

“Oh but she does, Gil.” William remembered when Bess had been like that. Bess had surrendered to the inevitable as all true loves did. “She’s fighting it. All the best women do. It’s all about independence.”

Gil shook his head. “I would never take that from her.”

“I know but some people fear losing themselves when they fall in love.”
How well I remember the fight Bess put up
. William cleared his throat. He needed to focus and not reminisce. “About Joan and the mention of her hunting the supernatural.” Was she to be more of a foe than a friend? Those who hunted the paranormal were often a force to be reckoned with. That she was a woman made it even worse. Unlike most men, William had a wary understanding of the true strength of women.

“I thought it was cute,” Gil responded with a smile.

“What do you know about her?”
And will she turn on us?
“Truro, we know.” But this Scott woman’s appearance was almost too sudden. Add to that the fact that Absolon was in town and it made William all the more careful.

“You think they are connected?” Murphy’s voice indicated he understood straight away. “You need to speak to her, Gil.”

He sighed. “She doesn’t seem too keen on chatting to me.”

Murphy chuckled. “I’m sure you have your ways.”

“I sense no evil in her, William.”

“No, but sometimes people are thrust into evil without their knowledge.”

Gil made a move. “I cannot allow her to be hurt. I will talk to her now.”

“And I will go speak to Absolon.” William did not doubt for a minute he was the man at the caravan park.
I will destroy you this time
. The clan depended on it.

———

“Hey,” Joan Scott called out to Truro as she came out of the small supermarket that all the locals frequented.

“Hey yourself, Lara Croft.” Truro had to smile when she saw the woman dressed in black. While Truro was a great fan of black looking slimming, she wasn’t into the whole black hair, nails, boots, pants and shirt. It was gothic and sort of funny on such a small, chubby woman. She spied the leather scabbard at her side. That was unusual even for a Goth. “Pretty fancy knife holder you’ve got there.”
Who the hell walked around with a knife? Who needed one? Who was this chick?

Joan came to stand, hands on hips, before Truro. “It’s a make-up holder.”

“Uh-huh.”
Bullshit.
”I bet you carry you a deadly shade of lipstick in there.”

“Kiss to kill? What a quaint mind you have. It must be from living in Hooterville. Anyway, let’s cut the girly chat. I want to talk to you about something specific.”

Truro had to admit she admired the whole attitude thing. Not many women could carry that off as well. “Oh yeah? What about?” Town gossip was this woman was some weird psychic babe. Of course that’s what the barbeque boys had told Truro but then they had told everyone that aliens often came every second Tuesday to eat burnt sausages with them, so their words were not exactly gospel.

“You’ve been here a while.”

Truro dropped her two shopping bags on the ground. She had an idea this woman was not someone who could be easily fobbed off. “Not that long. About two years.”
Good grief, even her eyes are black. And black eyeliner? So nineties.

Joan flicked her shoulder-length raven-black hair from her shoulders as if it annoyed her. “That’s long enough. About the wolves—”

“What about them?”
And is this chick going to venture down the werewolf track as well?

“Would you say they are unusually more active?”

Truro raised her eyebrows. “What is it with everyone being interested in wolves?”

“Who’s everyone?”

Truro wasn’t about to tell her.
Let her work it out herself.
She couldn’t put her finger on it but the woman irritated Truro. “Why do you want to know?” Are you a hunter?”
If so we have enough of our own local shoot-’em-up people here.

“Why do you ask?”

“You’re dressed weird.” Why not call a spade a shovel?

“How so?”

Answering a question with a question. Truro admired that. “You look like Lara Croft.”

“Maybe she looks like me.”

Oh yeah, there was attitude there
. It was exactly the same answer Truro would have given.
Oh, that’s why she irritates me. She’s like me.

“I heard you talking above wolves.”

Both women turned to see Gil. Joan stiffened visibly. Truro was amused.
So, Lara Croft is scared of someone
. The look she gave Gil was one of bravado mixed with fear
. It’s probably how I look at Murphy. I want to be tough but my resolve just disappears under his hot, sexy gaze
.
Mmmm, Murphy
. Where was he? Truro pulled her thoughts back to the present. “I know nothing about wolves other that they have four legs, fur and they do that howling at the moon thing.”

“Are you sure?” Joan avoided looking at Gil and focused Truro.

“I’m positive about that, Lara.”

“My name is Joan.”

Oh yeah. Gil had his work cut out with this woman
. “My apologies. I have stuff to do.” She didn’t but Truro didn’t want to be hanging around like a fifth wheel. She picked up her bags and moved off.

“I still want to talk to you,” Joan called out.

“I know nothing,” Truro yelled back.

“I doubt that.”

———

“I knew it would not take you long to find me, William.”

“Absolon.” William was neither shocked nor surprised. He had been waiting for this moment for fifty years. Old enemies held a grudge and did not die easily.

“You have aged.” Absolon stood on unsteady feet.

William was aware like most men that what they lacked in one area, like strength, they made up for in another. Absolon had always been a tall man. William had never been intimidated by that but he understood his old foe needed to look like he was coming from a position of strength. “As have you, Absolon.” If he was a different person, William may have felt sorry for him but all he felt was contempt. Absolon had come perilously close to destroying everyone William loved and believed in five decades ago. As Absolon held a grudge, so did William. Fifty years seemed only like yesterday. Hatred and revenge always remained fresh.

“You made old age worse for me.” Absolon’s fist clenched, his pale blue eyes filled with anger.

“You shouldn’t have tried to take what was not yours.” If he had let them live in peace then neither man would have had a burning need to kill the other back then or now.

“How is Bess?”

That this creature ever thought he had a chance with someone as sweet as Bess still amazed William. While opposites did attract, evil had no constant lovers. “Safe.”

Absolon smiled. “No one is ever safe, William.”

William smiled back. There was no humor in it. He was mirroring his enemy until Absolon made his move. “Even think of harming Bess and I will kill you.”
I will kill you anyway but touching Bess would guarantee it would not be an easy death.

“I know you will try.” Absolon shrugged his shoulders in dismissal.

“I will succeed.”

“William, you are weaker than you were. I see the passing of time has changed you. While your words are strong we both know only one of us will win this battle. And now with the clan reshaping as it does every fifty years, I know you are weaker than you have ever been.”

That was true. To allow others in, barriers had to be dropped and need given preference to strength. “We are strong.” William knew that even with the changes that were happening if the clan held firm and together, they could defeat anything or anyone.

“You’ll need to be.”

“Why?” William knew he would get no answer to his question but he had to ask. The longer he kept Absolon talking, the more chance he could determine his next move. Like everyone, Absolon gave out nonverbal clues. His body trembled and his breath was labored. He was not carrying out his plans by himself. William could see he was too weak for that.

“I can’t divulge everything straight away, William. How boring would that be?”

“I know you killed that man and wounded the other one.”

Absolon smiled. “Are they hunting you like the animals you are?”

Not yet. So far the clan was safe and hidden near the mines. Only he, Murphy and Gil were in any risk being so close to town. But they remained careful when the time came to shift into their other form. “The woman in town—”

“Miss Scott? Yes I brought her here.” Absolon allowed him that information. “And no, she doesn’t know the full reason or even who she really is.”

William felt the icy shaft of fear that shot through him.
Who she really is?
There were a handful of demons and hunters who hated werewolves. Some held a grudge. Others just liked the thrill of the chase. Who was she? “Why her?”

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