Dance on the Wilde Side: Cannon Pack, Book 2 Page 15

  “What? Who?”

  Devlin, the normal-looking Devlin, met her gaze and in his eyes she saw recognition, acknowledgement.

  “You changed a second ago.” She paused, giving him time to deny it, but he didn’t. “What is with you? What are you hiding? And this time I’m not getting distracted. So spit it out, Devlin. I’d rather know now than find out later.” Before it’s too late. But isn’t it already too late?

  He inhaled deeply and licked his lips. “You saw, didn’t you?”

  No. Maybe I don’t really want to go there after all. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Devlin tilted his head and arched an eyebrow. “Yes, you do. You saw my fangs.”

  He’d said the words. Out loud so he couldn’t take them back. “I, uh, I don’t know. Maybe. But no. I’m sure I imagined everything.” She blurted out a short laugh, hoping to make a joke of what she’d seen. Or what she thought she’d seen. She grasped at straws. “I’m thinking the pizza was doped.”

  “The food’s fine. And no, you didn’t imagine anything.” He stared at her, molding his gaze to hers. “Tala, I need to tell you about me. All about me.”

  Damn it all to hell and back. I’m successful. I’m strong. I’ve got everything I need in my life. Except Mr. Right. Damn, I’d take Mr. Not-A-Weirdo right now.

  The air around her felt heavier, denser, harder to suck into her lungs, and her breathing quickened. She didn’t want this conversation to go on. If it did, they couldn’t stay like they were, and everything she’d hoped for might end up lost. “Forget I asked. I don’t want to hear this, Devlin. L-let’s just go home.” She wheeled around and started for her car. “And no, you can’t drive.”

  His hand on her arm brought her around until she stood close to him. The blood rushing through her ears picked up speed and her heart thudded against her ribcage. “Let me go.” Yet his eyes of warm chocolate melted into hers, leaving her unable to break free.

  “Tala, I know this will be difficult for you to understand and accept. But if you look into your heart, you’ll find I’m telling you the truth. You said you knew the truth.”

  “No.” She looked around her and then down at the ground. “I’d rather not. Let’s go back to thirty minutes earlier when you crammed two slices of pizza in your mouth. Hell, let me cram two slices in your mouth.”

  “You have to hear this.” His ran his hands up and down her arms. “I’m what people call a werewolf. But we prefer to call ourselves shifters.”

  She gaped at him, unable to rationalize what he’d said. I didn’t know what I’d expected him to say, but it sure wasn’t this.

  She couldn’t help herself. She had to let it out. Nothing could control her reaction.

  She laughed. Full out, full-throated, hold-the-belly-’cause-it-hurts laughed.

  In fact, she couldn’t stop laughing. “You’re kidding me, right? A werewolf? Holy shit, Devlin, are you saying you change into a wolf during a full moon?”

  His gaze zoned in on her, silently forcing her to believe. “I’m serious, Tala.”

  “You’re telling me you’re the Wolf Man?” She wrapped her arms around her waist and tears streamed down her face. But she couldn’t stop laughing. “So you grow fur and everything? Don’t you know most women don’t like hairy men?”

  “Tala, stop.” He reached for her, but she darted out of his grasp.

  Whistling, she snapped her fingers. “Here, boy. Oh, wait. I guess wolves don’t heel like dogs do, right?”

  She continued to giggle. Yet, her chest tightened as if her heart couldn’t pump the blood fast enough through its arteries. “And what else, Devlin? Were you going to bite me and change me into a werewolf, too? Recruit another she-wolf for the pack?”

  Devlin’s gaze locked onto her, his face a cold mask.

  I’d be very worried if this weren’t so funny. Or is it?

  Something flipped over in her belly and settled like a rock in her gut. She was stuck in this insane conversation no matter how loudly she laughed. “Oh, crap. You did bite me.” She whirled around, looking at her bottom. “Am I going to grow a tail when the moon comes out? Will I run around in circles chasing my tail? Oh, shit. I just did!” She stopped spinning and dropped her mouth wide in feigned delight. “Does this mean I’ll have cubs instead of children? A litter?”

  “We need to talk seriously about this, Tala.”

  “Too bad, Devlin. I don’t think there’s a full moon tonight so we’ll have to wait a few days for a romp under the stars. But, hey, in the meantime, you can pick out which brand of dog food you’d like me to feed you. Or does your appetite run to steaks?” Her voice pitched higher, hysterics pushing aside her restraint. “But here’s the good news. We don’t even have to cook them. Werewolves prefer their meat rare, right?” Maybe if I keep talking, he’ll stop forcing me to listen.

  “Tala, don’t mock me.”

  All the frantic humor left her, quickly replaced by anger. “Then don’t feed me a crock of shit.”

  He grabbed her hand and held her in place. “I’m not. You need to know who I am. What I am.” His gaze bored into her. “In fact, listen to yourself. The real you inside. You already know, Tala. You said so. Just let yourself believe.”

  “Oh, I do know. I know you’re one funny man. But the joke’s over, okay?”

  Devlin growled, frustration echoing through the grumble.

  “And what’s with all the growling? Is it part of your act?”

  He grabbed her before she could react, slamming his mouth against hers, driving his tongue into her mouth. Strong arms held her and she struggled, making a halfhearted attempt to get away. Yet, although she told herself she wanted to run, her body responded to him, heating up in seconds when he pressed against her.

  Devlin trailed kisses down her neck and pulled her shirt aside. He nipped at her skin, licking her between each nip. Giving up any pretense, she slid her hands under his arms and around his broad torso to grip his shirt from behind. She clung to him for a minute before taking his hand from the hollow above her bottom, and placing it over her breast.

  Bending his head, he sought out her nipple and bit through the fabric covering the firm bud. “Tala, I have to tell you all of it. You have to understand. You have to let yourself feel it.”

  The warmth in her panties increased as she grew wet with desire. She didn’t want to know. All she understood was how much she wanted him, lusted for him. “Shut up, Devlin, and take me home.”

  The shock of him pushing her away left her dazed and unsteady on her feet. “No. Don’t stop.” Why couldn’t he just do as she asked?

  Cupping her face between his hands, he forced her to look at him. His hard gaze trapped her, snaring her like a rabbit in a noose. “You’re going to hear me out.”

  Afraid to say anything, afraid to move, she waited, knowing she had no choice but to listen. Her pulse quickened to an impossible rate and fear ran an even race with longing.

  “I’m a lycanthrope. A shifter. A werewolf.”

  “No.” She reached for his hands and averted her gaze from his face. Please don’t let him be crazy. Yet another, stronger emotion reared its head, demanding she pay attention. She did know. The churning in her gut held the truth she didn’t want to acknowledge, couldn’t acknowledge.

  He gripped her harder, forcing her to look at him again. “I’m Devlin Cannon of the Cannon Pack. We’ve lived in this area for generations, both in the city and in the hills.”

  “You’ve got a problem if you think I’m going for this wolf-man thing.” She silently begged him, wanting him to tell her everything was a joke. “It’s a joke, right? I mean, what I saw…”

  His abrupt laugh sounded more like a bark than any sound a human would make. Yet, still she wouldn’t, couldn’t believe. If she did, everything would change and things were too good right now.

  “Tala, I came to the city to find my mate.” He kissed her, lightly, lovingly. “I came to find you.”

  What had he said?
Stunned, she waited, hoping she’d misunderstood him. She was his ‘mate’?

  “I’m telling you the truth. You’re my mate, Tala.”

  Oh, my God.

  Tala broke free and stumbled away from him. Whether she’d dredged up enough strength at long last or he’d loosened his hold on her, she didn’t know. And didn’t care. Her soul ripped apart as the scariest thought of all sank in. I love him. Even if he’s…Even if I’m… Her mind stalled, refusing to let her deny his words any longer.

  She backed away, her heart pounding not from all he’d told her, but from the truth no longer hidden within her. “You were right. I—I do need more time.” Without giving him a chance to speak, she dashed for her car.

  Chapter Eight

  A werewolf. A shifter. The man thinks he’s some kind of an animal.

  Glancing at the front door, she again wondered where Devlin was, but pushed away the anxiety. She’d asked him to give her time and stay clear of her until she’d calmed down, hadn’t she? And he’d return later, no doubt. At least, she hoped he’d return. But when he did, would he still claim to be a werewolf?

  You saw him. Don’t you believe your own eyes?

  The nagging thoughts dug at her, making her try to understand. Her love for him couldn’t have let her do anything less.

  Damn it all to hell and back. I do love him.

  She frowned, then smiled. She’d found him at last, her wolf-like man. She looked at the poster of the pack of wolves and let her mind wander, allowing herself to believe the unbelievable.

  The wolves in the picture seemed to move and she fantasized that she was the female. Cubs surrounded her, while the large wolf—Devlin, of course—stood watch over their romping youngsters. Sighing, Tala let the cozy family image play in her mind. Would Devlin and I have lots of—

  Cubs? I’m thinking of having baby wolves? What in the world is the matter with me? I’ve gone crazy. Wolf cubs instead of children. Or would they be both? She glanced at the poster again. One of the cubs put on a happy doggy smile, waved, and called to her. “Hi, Mom!”

  Tala fell against the back of her couch and shoved a pillow over her face to bury her scream. Yelling for a full minute helped ease the stress building inside her. Slowly, she dared to peek above the cushion, squinting at the poster again. Thankfully, the poster had returned to normal with no talking animals. I have got to get a grip.

  She threw the pillow against the wall, striking the poster of the male wolf and his mate. Maybe she deserved this. Was her attraction, her love of wolves driving her over the edge? Hadn’t she imagined her own teeth lengthening into fangs?

  This can not be happening. Girl, you need professional help.

  She tunneled her fingers through her hair and scanned the room around her. Wolf pictures, knickknacks and figurines were everywhere. Could Devlin be playing on her obsession? She shook her head. No, he’d been sincere in his declaration. Frustration brought tears and she growled at her lack of control.

  Growled? Now I’m growling, too? Like Devlin does?

  She spotted her grandfather’s picture and paused. Her grandfather shared her passion for wolves, particularly the wolves around the hills of Denver. Could he help?

  She rose to go to the mantel and pick up the photo of the small gray-haired man. Her grandfather, Ross Wilde, had told her a fascinating, unbelievable story during her childhood visits to his home outside the city. Hadn’t the story included wolves? Wolves as part of a family? Maybe even her family? Yet as hard as she tried, she couldn’t fit the pieces of the tale into place. Too many years had passed since she’d last heard the story.

  I think it’s time to pay Gramps a visit. She reached for her cell phone, punched in the numbers and waited for him to pick up. After several minutes, he answered, his voice bringing a tender glow to her heart.

  “Gramps? It’s Tala.” She smiled into the receiver. A visit was long overdue, no matter what the reason.

  “Tala? Hi, honey. How ya doing, Cookie?”

  Her grin stretched wider at the affectionate nickname. “Fine, Gramps.” God, how she loved him. She’d forgotten just how much until she’d heard his voice. “Only you can get away with giving me such a cutesy name. I’d sock anyone else who tried.”

  He chuckled, his tone vibrant and full of life. “Hey, grandfathers can get away with all kinds of shit.”

  Tala laughed and mimicked her late grandmother. “Watch your mouth, old man. Knock off the swearing, damn you.”

  He hooted, delighted at her imitation. “Funny how she hated for me to cuss, especially since she could hold her own with the best of them.”

  Tala couldn’t respond. Not with her throat swelling up with emotion.

  “Your grandmother would be proud of you, Cookie, just like I am. Just like your parents would be.”

  Tala eyes watered. The car accident claiming her parents’ lives was years ago, but the heartache lived on. “Thanks, Gramps.”

  A silence fell between them. Lost in thought about her parents, Tala caught only a part of her grandfather’s next words.

  “…calling about? Not that I’m not happy to hear from you. You should call me more often and drop by anytime you like.”

  “Funny you should say so because I thought I’d come out for a visit. You know, to catch up on things.” And to ask you about my werewolf lover, Gramps. She winced at the strange thought. How the heck am I going to bring the subject up?

  “Hey, terrific! When are you coming?”

  “No time like the present. If you’re not busy.” She pictured him sitting around the big kitchen table with his friends. The smoke from the cigars he refused to give up would fill the room while potato chips and beer cans littered the counters around them. “Or I can wait if you have plans. Have you got a game going later, Gramps?”

  “Naw. I wiped the boys out last night. Come on over. Now’s as good a time as any.”

  “Great. I’ll head right over.”

  The “boys” consisted of five men, all Gramps’ closest friends, all about the same eighty years of age, all from the same neighborhood. They’d managed to remain close throughout the years. Closer than most people ever got. She frowned. Her grandmother had called them “the Pack”. Tala always assumed Granny meant they were like Frank Sinatra’s Rat Pack.

  But could she have meant something else? Something more like Devlin’s pack?

  ƒ

  “Hey, Cookie. You’re looking hot.”

  Tala shot Gramps a you-are-such-a-flirt look. “Watch it, old man. You’re too old for me.”

  He laughed and pushed the door wider for her, giving her a chance to glance around. Nothing much had changed in the small neat house. Granted, the neighborhood had grown when the city had expanded to include the outlying areas, but Gramps had resisted selling any of his five acres. Now his house sat on the cul-de-sac surrounded by newer, bigger homes.

  “Aw, leave it to you, Gramps.” Tala strode into the room and took a cookie out of the box sitting on the coffee table. “Chocolate chip. My favorite. I love how you always have cookies for me.”

  “Sorry they aren’t homemade like your Gran’s.”

  She hugged him, enjoying his familiar aroma. His natural body scent was stronger than she remembered. Sitting with him on the couch, she kept her head down, not yet ready to ask the tough questions.

  “So, Cookie. What’s up? What’s bugging you?”

  She looked up to find him eyeing her. “I never could hide anything from you.”

  He ran a hand over her shoulder, comforting her with his touch, sending waves of reassurance flooding through her. “That’s right, so don’t even try.”

  Taking in a large breath, she decided to dive right in. “Do you remember the story you used to tell me when I was a kid? You know. The one about wolves?”

  His hand slid from her shoulder at the same moment his smile slid from his face. “Sure. Why?”

  “I can’t remember all of it. Did it have something to do with…”
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  “With what?”

  “I know this will sound stupid, Gramps. But did it have something to do with werewolves?”

  Gramps’ gaze met hers and a trickle of apprehension ran down her spine. Oh, shit, he’s going to tell me something I’m not going to like.

  “Cookie, the story isn’t just a story. It’s about your family.” He searched her face. “It’s about the pack.”

  The pack? The butterflies filling her stomach turned into bats. Big, bad, ugly bats. “What do you mean?” Did she really want to hear this? “I thought the Pack was just a name Granny called your poker buddies.” She shoved the cookie into her mouth. Stop asking questions and get the hell outta here.

  Yet she knew she couldn’t leave until she’d heard the truth. Indeed, if she were honest with herself, the idea of a pack was intriguing. Intriguing, but scary.

  “Yeah, it was. But those buddies were also part of our lives. Part of our heritage.” He gave her a comforting smile. “The members of the pack are our kind of people.”

  “I don’t understand. What are you saying?” You know what he’s saying.

  “Do you remember me telling you about your special ancestors? Remember how I told you they had a gift, a power most other humans didn’t have?”

  Fear constricted her breathing but she pressed on. “I figured you’d juiced up the story with a bit of fantasy. Breathe, Tala. “Gramps, get to the point, okay? You’re freaking me out.”

  A spark glittered in his eyes. “Your ancestors were part of a group of unique individuals.” He squeezed her hands, his bushy eyebrows arching at her. “Cookie, you have shifter blood in you.”

  Suddenly the world tipped at an odd angle, doubling her vision, and she gasped. She gripped his hands and held on, needing strength to stay connected to a sane world, a world of reality. “Do you mean werewolves? Tell me you’re making this up.”

  A strange, sad expression flitted across his features. “No, Cookie. I’m not. We’re not fond of that word but, yes, werewolves are what most people call our kind. You come from a proud line of shifters. Trust me on this.”