Animal Attraction (3 page)

“Zach didn’t kiss me like that,” I muttered. And wondered if it was a complaint. Nobody had ever kissed me like that. It was like being hit by a freight train of carnal intent, sucker punched in the libido. I hadn’t asked for it, but I hadn’t tried to break free from it, either.

“He will.”

The certainty in the stranger’s voice made me shiver.

I RESTED IN THE ARMS OF A MAN WHO’D BROKEN INTO MY APARTMENT, and wondered why I thought I was safe. His mouth alone was a lethal weapon. “I want a light on,” I said once I could talk again. “I want to see your face.”

It didn’t seem right that I’d had the most intense kiss of my life from a man I wouldn’t know if I passed him on the street.

“No.”

It was the kind of no that didn’t lend itself to argument, but I argued anyway.

“Yes.”

No answer. The silence dragged out and I gritted my teeth. It was hard to argue with a man who refused to hold up his end. I tried to break free and reach for a light, but he kept me in place easily.

“Dammit.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Go to sleep.”

“Right. Because I’m having such a restful night between the breaking and entering and being held captive.”

If my sour voice bothered him, he didn’t give any indication of it.

I let my muscles relax because keeping myself tense would only tire me. It was surprisingly easy to rest my body against a stranger’s. My arms weren’t at an uncomfortable angle, just held where they couldn’t be used as weapons. I didn’t want to get a crick in my neck, so I wiggled down a little. He let me get comfortable, but I could feel the readiness in his muscles. He expected me to try something. That made me smile.

“Do I at least get to know your name?”

The silence dragged out so long I thought he wasn’t going to answer me. Just when I’d given up, he said, “David.”

David
, I thought. Well, that fit. I was in a position to know he was hard enough to have been carved out of marble by Michelangelo.

He didn’t kiss me again. I fell asleep telling myself it was for the best.

I woke up alone, with a few muscle twinges and slightly swollen lips as evidence that I hadn’t dreamed the whole thing. I got up and did my impersonation of a cat burglar, sliding silently around the apartment, looking for a large man in a leather jacket with lips in similar condition to mine.

I nearly gave myself a heart attack whipping the shower curtain open, but the tub was empty. Cupboards, closets, I checked them all. Then I checked the windows, but they were all closed. The one over the kitchen sink wasn’t locked, though, and I remembered the cold air I’d felt in the night.

So this was where he’d come in. I opened it and stuck my head out, gauging the distance from my little balcony. A tall person could stand on the rail and reach this window, but you’d have to want in really damn bad to try that on the second story.

I pulled my head back in and closed the window. Then I locked it. The apartment was as secure as I could make it from crazy people and kissing bandits, so I took a shower and got dressed. I wasn’t going to work today, but I expected to be busy.

I wasn’t ditching my job because Miguel and company intimidated me. Zach and the three amigos showing up where I worked was one thing. Finding a man in my apartment last night was more serious.

Whoever these people were, they weren’t fooling around.

I didn’t like this pattern of strangers popping up, keeping me on the defensive. Time to stop reacting to events that took me by surprise and do something proactive.

After a phone call to cover my shift, I headed to the library. I had one clue to follow. It was thin, but it was all I had.

Zach had said I’d find them in the place I saw in my dreams. I’d woken up with the memory of a dream fragment that might have been nothing more than my subconscious processing my close encounters with Zach and David. Still, I thought it was worth pursuing. Zach had been there with me, and David. He’d been a faceless presence in the dark, but I’d known it was him with dream logic. And something about the place was familiar, like I’d seen it before and would recognize it again.

Two hours later, I was ready to believe the place I was looking for existed only in my head. But it had seemed so vivid, like the dream incorporated a real place I’d seen, if I could just remember where.

Maybe it was for the best. Even if I found the place and it wasn’t just a dream, it might be too risky to go there. Of course, the way things were looking, going to work or staying home was risky.

On impulse, I typed Zach’s surname into the web browser’s search window. The results surprised me. I’d expected references to local business or society news. Instead, I learned that Neuri was a name for a northern Slavic tribe whose men turned into wolves.

Neuri. Werewolves. Zach’s claim that the knife didn’t hurt him because it wasn’t silver and his full-moon deadline took on a new slant.

My vision blurred and I blinked to clear it. Too much time on the library’s computer. I closed the web browser and realized it wasn’t just eyestrain. A wave of dizziness hit me and I cursed myself for skipping breakfast in my rush to play detective. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Fortunately, I had an unopened bottle of Gatorade and some power bars in my car. I’d started keeping snacks handy when my metabolism went nuts. Now I just needed to walk that far without passing out.

A black-haired biker was reading a magazine a few tables away. I’d noticed the motion in my peripheral vision when he came in, but when he ignored me I’d decided it was safe to ignore him. Still, I couldn’t help wondering if he’d move when I did. I scooted my chair back, preparing to leave. He stayed seated and turned another page.

There, see, not every guy in a leather jacket is part of some conspiracy to make you crazy
. Relieved to only have one problem to cope with, I got to my feet slowly enough that blood wouldn’t rush from my head and make things worse. Then I made my way toward the door, pretending to be browsing so my tortoise pace would seem reasonable.

Once I’d made it to the driver’s seat, I fumbled in the glove box for a bar and then realized my hands were shaking so much that the simple task of opening the wrapper was a challenge.

That frightened me more than finding David in my apartment last night. It would’ve been nice if my birth parents had included medical information in the adoption records. For instance, had I inherited a risk for type 1 diabetes?

I dropped the bar and swore. I reached for it, and my hand seemed to swim through fog. 
No, please, don’t let me black out here
, I prayed. 
I’ll be good. I’ll call my doctor and get a checkup right away
.

My prayers were answered by a knock on the window, right before the car door opened. I turned my head toward the sound and wasn’t altogether surprised to see the biker there, crouching down to put himself at eye level with me.

“Stupid, stubborn fool.”

I blinked. He didn’t sound much like a Good Samaritan. He sounded like my surly babysitter from last night.

“You’re not driving in your condition. Scoot over.”

Right. Driving was probably a bad idea. I nodded in agreement, and then my face fell toward the steering wheel. A masculine hand intervened, probably saving me from a nasty bruise. I was lifted and settled in the passenger seat, and the biker climbed in. “Here. Drink.”

Something touched my lips. I drank obediently. The liquid was sweet and cool, balm to my parched throat. The bottle moved away and I protested. “Thirsty.”

“Slow.” The masculine voice sounded stern. I heard the sound of paper ripping, and then my rescuer prompted me to eat. He didn’t need to tell me twice.

“You’re taking pointless risks,” he said while I chewed and swallowed. “Come home. We can help you.”

My mouth was full, so I couldn’t answer, but what could I say? All of a sudden everybody wanted me to be somewhere, but nobody bothered to give me a damn set of directions.

The fog receded as the food and liquid hit my system, and I blinked until I could see the man behind my steering wheel clearly. His lips didn’t look like mine felt, but the size and shape and sound of his voice were a match for my late-night visitor.

He was bigger than Zach, as well as older and tougher looking, but the cheekbones and the cast of his features showed a resemblance. He wore his black hair shorter, so I couldn’t tell if it curled. His expression was a lot harsher than Zach’s had been. He looked coldly furious, in fact, gray eyes glaring at me.

I wondered what he’d look like if he smiled, and why I wanted to find out. He wasn’t 
that
 
good a kisser. Okay, yes, he was.

It struck me that he and Zach had something else in common. Neither of them wore any sort of aggravating scent. They were both refreshingly free of cologne, aftershave, or the chemical reek of fabric softener. Considering the harsh combination of strong smells that clung to the average person, the absence came as a relief.

“Hi, David.” My voice sounded old and creaky and I grimaced.

“Chandra.” He said my name as if he was biting the sound off. All things considered, it didn’t surprise me that he knew it.

“Are you mad because I tried to hit you last night?”

“No.” David passed the bottle back to me and I drank with greedy haste. “I’m mad because you’re going to get somebody killed. Probably yourself.”

I finished the Gatorade and the rest of the bar and straightened up. “I skipped breakfast. It’s not a crime.” Although it was stupid. I wouldn’t let it happen again.

I studied him and continued my mental comparison. Zach had the kind of polish that said private school and old money. If David had ever had any polish, life had long since worn it off. If I had to guess, I’d place him as ex-military.

“Finished?”

“No. Be patient. If you’d let me turn the light on last night, I could’ve looked all I wanted then.”

“I meant, are you finished eating?” He gave me an unreadable look. What, he didn’t think I’d want an eyeful of the stranger I’d sort of spent the night with?

“You’re more interesting than food.”

A muscle in his jaw jumped, but he didn’t answer. Tension rose in the car and I realized he was really pissed off. My brain finally kicked into gear and it occurred to me that I didn’t have to stay in close proximity to a large, hostile male. I reached for the door handle, but David was faster. His hand covered mine and held the door shut. 
Déjà vu
, I thought. It was like a replay of being in my car with Zach, and it annoyed me to be slower than both of them.

“Let go.” I kept my voice steady and hoped I wasn’t still visibly trembling. I didn’t want to look weak.

“Idiot.”

“Stop calling me names.” I felt my eyes narrow as anger pulsed through me.

He looked like he was swallowing glass as he ground out the word, “Sorry.”

Anger evaporated as quickly as it had come. Maybe a soft answer really does turn away wrath.

“Let’s start over. Hi, my name is Chandra. Strange people keep popping up and acting like I should know what’s going on. What the hell is going on?”

For an answer, David let go of my door and turned on the ignition. “I’m taking you home.”

Taking me where? Alarm clamored in the back of my head and adrenaline spiked, burning away the sugar in my system in the process. The gray fog returned and I cursed my weakness as I subsided into the passenger seat. “Is Zach there?”

“Yes.” His jaw tightened as he stared straight ahead. “I’m taking you to Zach.”

“Okay.” I had a few questions for Zach. David could save me the time and hassle of finding him. I closed my eyes, just for a minute. I opened them when the engine shut off, shocked to realize I had no idea how much time had passed or where we were. Something was really wrong with me.

I heard booted footsteps on gravel before my door opened and then Zach was there, unbuckling my seat belt, scooping me up as if I were a child. David walked beside him and the three of us went up onto a covered porch and then inside a solarium filled with greenery, rich with the mingled scents of earth and growing things.

The men were arguing. “I wanted her to come of her own free will,” Zach was saying.

“You didn’t see her passing out at the wheel,” David snapped in response. “It’s too late for that.”

Too late? I didn’t like the sound of that, but I didn’t seem to have the strength to speak up.

The argument became impossible to follow then, because they stopped speaking English. The foreign syllables didn’t bother me. It meant I wasn’t distracted by the words and could concentrate on their voices. I liked the sound of them.

“Chandra. Swallow this.” That was Zach, coaxing with an underlying tone of command.

“Later,” I evaded. I didn’t want to be drugged, but I wasn’t in any state to fight about it.

“Now.”

One of them held me while the other poured something noxious into my mouth. I swallowed convulsively and then gasped as it burned all the way down. My eyes teared as I wheezed. “Water!”

Zach gave me a glass, which meant David was the one holding me. I drank and sighed in relief as it cooled the fire in my esophagus. “What was that?”

“Herbal tea. A family remedy.” Zach’s voice was calm, his face composed. “Are you feeling better now?”

In fact, I was. The fog was gone and strength pulsed through me. With every heartbeat I felt more alert, more alive. A sense of almost euphoric well-being filled me.

Something that felt this good this fast couldn’t be trusted. “Please tell me that wasn’t meth.”

“No. Just wolfsbane.”

Wolfsbane? My mouth opened and shut soundlessly a couple of times before I managed to say, “That’s poisonous.”