What a Werewolf Wants (San Francisco Wolf Pack) (11 page)

Chapter Twelve

Fear cemented her shoes to the ground. She couldn’t move an inch. Couldn’t breathe, not one breath.

“Oh God.” Josie was too stunned to cry out. “Don’t make any sudden movements, Carrie.”

Her sister blubbered something that sounded like a curse. And then the unmistakable sound of vomit hitting asphalt echoed through the alley. Something splattered on Josie’s shoes, making her gag reflex tick.

Keeping her attention on the wolf, Josie slid her feet along the ground. They budged, but barely.

“Stay back,” she rasped, her throat drying to sandpaper. “You don’t want to hurt us.”

The wolf kinked its neck to the side and stared. Its pupils widened to black holes as it flopped onto its hind legs and watched her edge toward the door. From behind him, Ryder exhaled heavily. Marched closer. Right up to the beast.

“What are you doing?” Her heart lurched into her throat. “Ryder? Get away from that thing.”

“You should get out of here.” He circled close to the wolf. As if he wasn’t afraid of it lashing out. What was wrong with him? Did the guy have a death wish? “Last chance to change your mind.”

Why the hell would she do that?

With the speed of a lightning bolt, the wolf snapped its neck around to stare Ryder dead in the eye. And then it shook its big furry head.

“Did the wolf just—”
Answer you?
“No, that couldn’t be right.”

They both glanced her way. As if they—the wolf included—heard and understood what she’d wanted to say.

“Mitch, don’t,” Ryder pleaded.

She’d never heard his voice so pained.

“Mitch?” Carrie gripped Josie’s arm and hauled herself off the ground. “Where? Is he out here?”

The wolf yelped. Ryder smacked it in the back of the head, eliciting a low growl.

“You’re going to get your hand bitten off,” Josie said, grasping the handle. “And I’m not sticking around to watch.”

As the wolf’s head arched up toward the moon, it howled. Deafeningly loud.

“Josie?” Carrie covered her ears with both hands. “What’s happening?”

She could almost sense her sister’s fear. Shielding her, Josie dragged Carrie into her arms and held her tight. This was it. The end. At least they’d die together. And where the hell was Ryder in all of this? Watching it happen? Smacking it in the back of the head to piss it off? Lot of help he was. Too bad he couldn’t do something with all that bulging muscle.

Holding her sister’s head against her chest, Josie chanced one eye. The wolf finished its frightening howl and then shook, ears to tail. It was one of those full-body shakes dogs did after they got hosed. Only the beast wasn’t wet. And it was about three times the size of the biggest dog she’d ever seen.

Its back legs quivered and shook. Its nose scrunched. Ears flattened down. Tail shrank. In another ferocious shake, its fur flattened over its back. Ryder backed away, as if to give the thing space.

It was like something out of a horror movie, and she couldn’t look away.

Terror gripping her, Josie squeezed her sister and watched the wolf’s head shrink. Its body transformed. Fur gave way to skin—
skin!—
and its hind legs elongated.

“Don’t look,” Josie breathed into Carrie’s hair. “The wolf’s hideous. And dying…or something.”

“He’s not dying,” Ryder said plainly. “But I’ll kill him for this.”

She felt her face scrunch as she glowered at Ryder. In the split second she took her eyes off the wolf, it disappeared. Mitch had somehow replaced the wolf and was crouched on the ground, right where it had been. His skin was sweaty, clammy. His hair was matted down to his head. And he was buck-ass naked.

“Carrie,” he panted, covering his male parts. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, and I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but I didn’t know how else to explain it.”

Explain what, exactly?

Slowly, Carrie peeked from beneath Josie’s arm. “Mitch?”

He nodded, though the rest of him remained unmoving. As if he was waiting for some kind of assurance that everything would be okay.

“Wait…what’s going on?” Josie glared at Ryder. He was much too calm—the only one who looked relaxed with the situation, actually. “What happened to the wolf?”

Striding to the Dumpster, Ryder kicked Mitch’s clothes at him. He appeared unfazed. Completely cool and relaxed, as if he hadn’t witnessed the same thing they had.

“Say something.” Panic shot through her, followed by a gripping wave of nausea. “Ryder, where’s the wolf?”

Mitch stood, covering his groin with the pile of clothes. “I’m right here.”

“I’m scared.” Carrie shook as if she were going to rattle apart. “What’s happening?”

“I’m a werewolf, Carrie.”

Josie’s ears rang. “Come again?”

“Ah, shit.” Ryder paced a tight circle, scrubbing his hands through his hair. “Here we go.”

Josie narrowed her eyes at him as he folded his arms over his chest and sighed. Why was he always on the inner circle of everything? Harboring secrets. Telling lies. Standing there looking too sexy for his own good.

Closing her eyes as Mitch rose off the ground, Josie released her sister.

“I’m sorry,” Carrie said, a giggle bubbling out of her. “I didn’t hear you. I could’ve sworn you said you were a—”

“Werewolf,” Mitch finished. “The wolf that stood here a few seconds ago…it was me.”

Funny, but he said that as if he actually
believed
it.

Carrie swiped her hair out of her eyes. “What do you mean the wolf was you?”

None of this was making sense.

The wolf had been right there.
Right there.
One second it was huge, with a raised back and pointy fangs, and the next minute Mitch was in its place. Josie did a quick scan of the alley. Nothing there but Dumpsters and littered garbage. As she looked up into the yellow face of the moon, a clamming wave of panic settled over her.

Werewolf.

Full moon.

Could he really—no, no that couldn’t be right. She wasn’t thinking straight. This wasn’t
True Blood
. This was real life, and things like that didn’t exist.

Her gaze shot to Ryder. She tried to read him, but came up blank. He’d been too at ease through all of this, hadn’t he? He’d slapped Mitch in the back of the head. Stood idly by while the wolf tramped toward them. He’d been
unafraid.
And neither of them were laughing, which is what they should’ve been doing if she and Carrie were getting punked. Everyone was too much at peace, and acting too serious, for this to be a joke.

“I’m so sorry, Carrie.” Mitch reached out for her. “Please don’t be mad, or scared. This wasn’t what I wanted. I couldn’t plan this. It just happened.”

Jump back. Smack away his hand.

But she reached out, squeezing his fingers.

“Carrie, don’t.” Fright wormed its way through Josie’s middle. “He just said he was a wolf. Didn’t you hear him? He’s either delusional or telling the truth and really is a wolf—either way, you should run as far away from him as you can.”

Carrie jerked back her hand.

“He won’t hurt her,” Ryder said flatly, searching through the alley. “It’s not like that. He’s not the type.”

Fear flipped to anger. “How do you know what he’s capable of? He’s psychotic.”

“No, he’s being honest.” Ryder paused, and then, “I told you there were things you couldn’t know about a person from a dating application, didn’t I? You should’ve listened from the start and told your sister to move on.”

“This was what you were hiding? The fact that he’s a compulsive liar? How was I supposed to know that? It wasn’t like that was question number thirty-three on the questionnaire.” Her voice screeched as she held her sister’s shaking hand. “You could’ve told me from the start that your buddy was crazy. You put my sister in danger because you were too stubborn to admit the truth.”

“Did you not see him in wolf form? Standing right in front of you? He shifted. Right here.” Ryder kicked the side of the Dumpster. The sound reverberated off the alley walls like thunder. “You saw him with your own eyes. I don’t know how you’re able to stand here and deny it.”

“Carrie, please,” Mitch pleaded, lifting his arms from his sides and coming closer. “I’m the same person I was before I was attacked by a werewolf and bitten. Now, every full moon, on nights like tonight, I can feel the shifting energy of it pulsing through my veins. I can turn into a wolf and back again without much effort…unless I’m piss-drunk, apparently.”

He was speaking as if he really believed that line of bull.

“You were bitten by a wolf?” Carrie asked.

“A werewolf. A rogue shifter playing a cruel joke. Three years ago, two bites on my pulse points here and here”—he pointed to his neck and his wrist—“turned me into what I am. I thought it’d make me a monster, like the one who attacked me, but I swear I’m the same man I was before.”

Carrie’s mouth dropped open. “You might as well be claiming to be bigfoot. How do you expect me to believe you?”

“If you see the shift with your own eyes, it might help.” Mitch took a deep breath and then exhaled heavily. “The last time you weren’t expecting it, so you didn’t know what you were watching. This time you’re ready, and I’m going to show you everything.”

Ryder folded his arms over his chest. “Point of no return. Ever heard of it, Mitch? You’re about to blow right through it.”

“I know,” Mitch said after a hard clench of his jaw, “but it’s the only chance I have at getting her to understand, and the only way she’ll believe me. Then we can go on with the wedding and put this behind us. No more lies.”

Ryder nodded matter-of-factly and put up his hands in surrender. “No more lies.”

At his words, Mitch’s chest muscles twitched. His entire body went rigid, flexed and on edge. And then everything happened so quickly, Josie could barely take a single breath in the flash of time. Mitch’s legs shortened as he dropped to all fours. Fur blanketed his body, covering the tan skin that had been there moments before. His nose elongated to a furry muzzle. His eyes remained wide and soft, but they moved back on his head—his very wolflike head—and blinked at Carrie expectantly.

Carrie and Josie took a giant step back, flattening against the bar’s outside wall.

God, Mitch really was a wolf.
Full-fledged, howling at the moon, covered with fur head to paw.

She wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen the change happen with her own eyes.

“Holy fuckity—” Carrie started, her hands trembling as she held them in front of her. “You’re a—I can’t even say it, but you’re a—”

“Wolf,” Josie breathed to herself, staring at Mitch. Fear shot through her, cementing her feet in place. “That’s not possible.”

As if he’d sensed her fear, Ryder was at her side a moment later, his arm wrapped around her waist.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he said softly. “You’re safe.”

Still, shock rattled through her at the sight of the wolf—Mitch—as it stalked closer. As she leaned against Ryder for support, he tucked her arm around him. Hugged her tight. A silent guard at her side. His presence made her feel protected. As if everything was going to be all right, even though they were staring at a freaking wolf—her sister’s future husband.

Was she dreaming?

What was that thing that she was supposed to do to discern nightmare from reality? A pinch. That’s right. If it hurt, all of this would be her new reality.

Glancing down at where her arms twisted around Ryder’s, she reached down and gave him the hardest pinch she could. She gouged. Dug in her nails. Yanked his arm hair.

“Mother eff!” Flinching, he jerked back. “What was that for?”

She released him as giggles bubbled out of her. Laughing was the last thing she expected to do right now, but between her frayed nerves and Ryder’s face as it snarled into a grimace, she couldn’t help it.

She fought back full-on belting laughter. “Pinches are supposed to tell dream from reality.”

“Damn it, woman, you’re supposed to pinch yourself. This isn’t a dream.” Rubbing his arm, he chuckled tightly. “And you’re laughing. If I ever get into kink, I know you’ll be the one to get a rise out of inflicting pain…my little sadist.”

The thought of being Ryder’s little
anything
made her stomach tumble. And then her thoughts whirled back to Mitch and the bizarre reality that faced them. Ryder’s reaction to his friend still didn’t make sense.

“You
knew
he could do this,” she said, sliding back into his arms.

It wasn’t a question.

He nodded anyway, stirring up the anxiety in her once more.

“I can’t breathe,” Carrie said, grasping at her throat. Her eyes went wide as they searched Josie’s face for reassurance. “I think I’m hyperventilating. My chest is tight, and I”—she pointed to Mitch—“I can’t believe I’m going to marry a werewolf. Day after tomorrow…I’ll be married to a dog!”

“You don’t have to marry him, Carrie,” Josie said as her heart gave an empty pang. “No one would blame you if you wanted to cancel now.”

“Why don’t you leave that up to her?” Mitch said, dragging her attention back around.

He stood in front of them, as naked and sweaty as he’d been before.

“What the hell—you’re back?” It was all she could think to say. As if somewhere in the last few seconds he’d gone on a faraway vacation and suddenly returned.

But he’d been here all along.

“It doesn’t take long to shift,” Ryder said, his head resting against hers. “Just a few seconds.”

A shiver raced up her spine as she pulled back and gazed up into his eyes. They’d darkened in the last few seconds, and it wasn’t because of the shadows cloaking the alley.

There was something else he wasn’t saying.

Exactly how much did he know about this whole thing?

“Mitch?” Carrie’s voice cracked. “When did the attack happen? How long have you been like this?”

“Does it matter?” Josie’s blood went ice cold, even though her body radiated with the heat flowing from Ryder’s body. “I can’t believe you’re going to stand out here and listen to—”

“Shh.” Carrie put up her hand and didn’t even glance her way. “I want to hear what he has to say.”