Dedication
This book is dedicated to Mary Hughes. Our relationship began with an email and the promise of a beer. Although I am still waiting on the chance to buy you a round, you are someone I am proud to call a friend. Mary, if it weren’t for you, I would have never been brave enough to push send.
My wonderful husband was the inspirational spark that began this whole series. Over a decade ago he ran by me on a football field wearing black Nike shorts and a backwards white baseball cap. He inspired me then, and thanks to him, I built a whole story around the punch in the gut that I got when I realized I couldn’t live without him. Baby, your support means everything to me. I write about love, because you showed me how good it can be.
Chapter One
I wasn’t prepared for it. That’s what everybody says when they meet the love of their lives. But I’m not everybody. Hell, most of the time I’m nobody, or at least I try to be. I was given the name Amber Paulson for crying out loud. A name like that does not a rock career make. Daddy always told me that the urge to mate is something you can’t control. That you would just find yourself smacked upside the head one day. If you were lucky.
I didn’t know anyone in my Pack who was mated. That’s not to say we are virgins.
Hell no!
Everybody that uses the expression “Fuck like bunnies”? Well, those people obviously haven’t met a werewolf. Me and the rest of my Pack get furry on occasion, but for the rest of the time we rocked a decidedly human form. Those forms just have libidos of epic proportions.
Anyway, I was walking through the latest campus we had moved to. It was some little rinky-dink town in Indiana of all places. Land-locked, but lots of places just outside the city for a wolf to run. Big enough to get lost in, small enough to get away from everybody when you needed to. The campus was walkable, and I took my time, because if I hurried, I could outrun an Olympic medalist. And I still had plenty of time until my next class.
Mary called and reminded me not to be late. Mary Fields was my best friend these days. I liked humans, but I loved Mary most. I met her on my first day of orientation, and somehow she puts up with me. I threw her a quick text to let her know I’d see her in class.
Did you know the average werewolf lives for four hundred years after turning? I’ve been around for fifty as my wolfy self, so the American History class was one I have repeated often. From the complete lack of effort needed this time through, either I was radically expanding my brainpower or society was expecting less and less intelligence from the general student body. Which brings me back to me not being prepared. I was walking slowly to class, when one student body in particular caught my attention.
There always seems to be an impromptu game of football being played on the practice field outside the cafeteria that involves guys taking their shirts off and trying to impress the co-eds in hopes of getting the chicks’ shirts off later. Personally, unless you’re taking down a twelve-point buck with your shirt off—while covered in hair—I am not usually impressed.
That day was different. For some reason, my feet stopped moving when they hit the spray-painted white line on the field. Guys and girls chased the pigskin in the sunshine. The temperature was a degree below fried eggs, and not a cloud was in the sky. I heard a bottle pop open, and what should have been a glance turned into full-on ogling. He still had his shirt on, but had begun pouring the open bottle of water across his chest in an effort to cool off.
My increased hearing picked up the sighs and elevated heart rates from the women around me as the thin fabric of his shirt clung to his body and drops of water cascaded down. Deep tan skin began to peek through. His chocolate-brown nipples puckered. The water must have been cold. Thank you Jesus for whoever had those puppies in a cooler.
I could see a slight smattering of chest hair sandwiched between his skin and tee. Then he pulled up the shirt to wring it out, and I caught the brief glimpse of his six-pack and a trail of body hair that drew my attention down to his black shorts. I swear it was like an arrow directing me where to go. Boy, did I want to follow it.
The healthy dose of yum shook the water from his head and hands. The shirt fell, and I pulled my jaw up off the ground just in time to not have my tongue loll out the side like a freaking German Shepherd.
He looked up and waved. My hand waved back on instinct. When his eyebrows drew together and he began jogging back toward the game, I looked around to see a petite blonde behind me with her hand also up in greeting. I gave her the “I’m an idiot, never mind me” salute and started off toward campus. What the hell was wrong with me? He wasn’t even Pack. Why was I ogling him like I was headed into my first heat?
“Hey! Wait up!” A feminine voice called from behind me.
I slowed my pace to about half my pulse rate. I had learned that to step below my pulse rate was a great way to appear more human. The fact that I was still speeding through campus told me my pulse was hammering like a hippie playing bongos.
“Sorry, I…oh. Were you talking to me?”
The blonde from the practice field jogged to catch up with me. Her little perky boobs bobbed with her ponytail, but nothing else on her jiggled. I hated her instantly.
“Yeah. Damn you’re fast.” A smile broke her face, and not even a drop of perspiration dotted her brow. I really hated her. “Do you know Jake?”
“Who?”
“Jake’s my brother. You know, the guy who put on a water show at the practice field.” She knocked her elbow into me.
Little tip from a werewolf—don’t touch us. It’s considered a confrontational act. Lucky for this chick, it was pretty obvious to my wolf that her little five-foot-nothing frame was no match for my five-feet-ten-inches of overgrowth. When my instincts settled, I noticed she smelled different. She wasn’t from the area. For some reason, everyone here smelled faintly of earth and plants. Okay, they smelled like corn, but I don’t want to sound prejudiced. This little waif smelled empty. Like, clay or wood. You know that smell you get when you open a really old box or jar? Not moldy or musty, just…empty.
“So I saw you looking at my brother.”
“What? No I wasn’t. I was watching the game.”
“They were taking a break.” Her voice shifted from upbeat to dead serious in a second.
“Yup. I noticed that. Why I left. Have a good one.” I turned and tried to pace my steps. Then an image of Jake filtered into my brain, and I found my steps increasing their tempo. I tried to slow them, with the old standby of listening to the closest pulse. My feet stopped midstride when I realized the closest pulse wasn’t inside my little cling-on. I couldn’t hear the small blonde chick’s pulse. She didn’t have one.
Fuck
. Vampires.
“Sooo, how long have you been, you know…” I flicked my finger through the double extra whipped cream on top of my mocha caramel monstrosity from the nearest coffee shop. One nice thing about being both a wolf and a chick was the metabolism. I could eat whatever I wanted. Unfortunately, my wolf could, too. I had to wash dried rabbit blood out of my hair the other night.
Gross.
But at least my body was toned. It was big, but it was toned. I had curves. My mom said it was her side of the family that had given me ample T and A. I told her, gee, thanks. Her genetics made me a plus-sized gal. When you’re tall, your body can handle a lot of T and A.
The little vampire sat across from me. She watched me scarf on a drink while she sipped at the water bottle in her hand. The water bottle was solid black plastic. I did not want to know what was in it, so I didn’t ask.
“How long have I been…” She waved her hand in the air to emphasize my vague question. “In town, in this school, dead?” She hadn’t smiled much since she realized we were both of the supernatural persuasion. I couldn’t get a good read on her. I felt like I was being evaluated.
I looked around, but it was in the middle of a common class time, and the place was blissfully empty around us. I thumbed a text to Mary to let her know I would be missing the class she texted me about earlier. If a cell phone could scowl, mine would have. Mary’s text back let me know what she would do to sensitive areas of my body if I thought I was going to get her notes.
Because I was sitting with another creature of enhanced hearing, we could talk very quietly and still hold a solid conversation. So when my voice came out just barely above a whisper, I knew she would be able to follow. “Well, if we are going to be frank, all of the above.”
She smiled, but it faded in a flash. “Been in town since the start of the semester. Not starting in school this round.” Meaning they had her pegged younger for this town, and they weren’t passing through quickly. “And I don’t discuss my age—it weirds everybody out. You?”
I wasn’t sure about the longevity of vampires. I had heard the word immortal in passing. To be honest, they freaked me out with the whole no pulse thing, and I avoided things that were unpleasant. “Um…I have been here two years now. This is my third semester at this school. And I’m not dead.”
Vampires didn’t have a heartbeat. They could force them to beat if they were so inclined, just like they could breathe if they needed to look human, but unless someone was touching them or doing some kind of exam, they usually didn’t bother.
She laughed. Her laugh wasn’t cute or bubbly. It was stunning and cold. I looked to the bottle and really wondered what was in it. She took another sip and I tried to see if there was anything red coming out of it. Her tongue darted over the bottle and her lips before flashing another fast smile.
“Nope. You’re not dead. But Jake is. Has been for quite a while.” She tilted her head as she gauged my reaction. I put the mug to my lips to avoid giving her one, but I hadn’t worked the whipped cream down enough and accidentally snorted it up my nose. It was much better when slurped off a spoon.
My new vampire bestie laughed at me, and I disliked her more. Then she reached out and grabbed a taste of my whipped cream with her finger. She swiped it down my nose like a mother would. Except she wasn’t my mother, and she raked her nail a bit at the end. She scratched me. Luckily it took more than a scratch to infect someone with supernatural juju. She brought the now pink foam to her mouth, and her eyes widened.
“What Pack are you from?” she asked.
“Paulson. Why?” I dragged my napkin across my nose to finish cleaning my face. The sharp cut of her nails let the skin heal almost instantly. Not to say it didn’t sting, but it was horrible blonde scratchy chicks like her that reminded me of the benefits of werewolf healing.
She jumped up like I told her I was clubbing baby seals for sport in my basement. “I mean no disrespect when I say this, but stay the hell away from me and my brother. I don’t think you know us, or you wouldn’t be here. And I didn’t know who you are, or I wouldn’t be either. Easy mistake. Easy fix. I bow out with respect, and expect the same of you.” She leaned in and her irises sparkled. Bitch was trying to dazzle me!
Little did she know that I was a bit of a special case. I blanked my stare and let my hands drop to my lap, so she would think her little bit of magic was working. I was curious about what she wanted me to believe.
“You did not see me. You did not see Jake. The football game on the field has never and will never hold any interest to you. You find the man you waved to unattractive, arrogant, and not worth your time. If you do see him on campus again, or me, you will immediately go in the opposite direction.” She backed off on the intensity department. The perky high cheekbones dipped just a bit. Was she sad to be doing this?
She leaned in and I watched the sparkle happen again. Whatever she was feeling obviously didn’t stop her. “You decided to skip class, because it was boring, and I know damn well you don’t need to be there to pass it. You thought coffee would be a great idea. In fact you may decide that this campus isn’t for you at all and suggest that your Pack takes you all to another location. You feel like seeing water.”
Then she turned and left. I steamed about as hot as my coffee. My wolf paced and prickled under my skin. I may not be Alpha female, but daughter of the Alpha held some power too, and telling me to get the hell out of town, and not having the balls to do it without trying to dazzle me…well it pissed me off.
Chapter Two
People watching is such a calming activity. I don’t care what supernatural being you are, we all stand back and observe from time to time. There is a lot to know and learn, and when your lifespan quadruples the average human’s, adjusting to the new generation takes a little bit of effort. As a woman, I got to take the brunt of the fashion transition. Don’t even get me started on bell-bottoms. Although the sexual revolution was pretty fun.
It’s not that I had any desire to be human anymore, but the group—as a species—fascinated me. Such drama and stress developed from the most mundane things. They all had food to eat. Nobody was chasing them with pitchforks, and local priests didn’t try to run them out of town.