Graveyard Shifts: A Pat Wyatt Novel (21 page)

BOOK: Graveyard Shifts: A Pat Wyatt Novel
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I knew what would be next, so I stopped trying to get out and waited. Sure enough, there came a pair of yellow eyes, and then the claws reached down and grabbed me out of my makeshift grave.

“Mike?” I asked, but the beast whimpered as I looked into its eyes. There was a howl from behind us, and when I looked around, I didn’t see anything. I turned back to the beast, but it had run away, leaving me in the middle of the woods. Alone.

I had to tell myself not to be scared, but then something rustled in the trees. “Hello?” my voice trembled. “Is anyone there?” I heard a low throaty growl coming from behind the tree in front of me. I moved closer to it, and as I saw the pair of glowing eyes in the moonlight, my heart skipped a beat. Another, bigger, beast jumped out from the darkness, circling me on all fours.

It stopped in front of me, suddenly baring its teeth in a vicious snarl. “N—nice werewolf…g—good boy,” I managed to say, backing away from it until I was up against a tree trunk.

He stood on his hind legs, pinning me there. I turned my face away from the drooling werewolf and closed my eyes tight, readying myself for the thing to rip me to shreds. But it didn’t happen. Instead, his wet nose nuzzled against my neck, and he started to lick me. It tickled, and I laughed.

I pet his ears, as the licks became kisses, feeling them slowly go back to normal. Then I opened my eyes to see Mike staring at me in the darkness of the apartment as he ran his fingers through my hair.

It must’ve been a dream because there we were in bed together. Stretching like a cat, I noticed that I must have slept forever, because I could barely see the room around me. It was so dark.

I yawned. “Mmmm,” I said, my back so raw with pain that even the slightest movement hurt. “Good afternoon, Mr. Wolf.”

“I think you mean good night,” he corrected with a smile, leaning forward for a kiss.

“Bathroom,” I said, holding my finger to his lips, jumping over him so I could go. Thankfully it was right across the small hallway, so it was no problem just to go in, brush my teeth, and go pee. I glanced at myself in the mirror above the sink, seeing that my hair was a mess. I looked like the bride of Frankenstein. So I searched for a comb, and when I looked down at the sink again I was relieved to see a brush. I ran it through the tangled mess that used to be my hair, wincing at every knot. Then I ran back into the room and realized that I still had that stupid dress on.

“Could you take off your shirt, please?” I asked Mike nicely, holding out my hand to him.

“Why?” he asked back, looking at me funny.

“I have to get out of this thing,” I said, pointing down to the torn monstrosity that once was a very beautiful red dress.

He nodded, sitting up so he could pull his shirt over his head. I stared at his six-pack, and then he handed it to me—the shirt, not the six-pack.

I turned around, looking over my shoulder at him. “Could you unzip me?” I asked, and I heard the bed squeak as he stood, coming up behind me. I moved my hair out of the way, and he unzipped me almost in slow motion. “Thank you.” I smiled at him, but my face hurt so bad that it came off as a grimace. “Do you think you could unhook my bra too?” I asked, and he nodded. And with two fingers, I was unhinged, both literally and figuratively.

He kissed me between my sore shoulders, and I shivered. “I have to change,” I whispered, prying myself away from him. Gosh, I was so turned on. “You just remember that you promised me we were going to take this slow.”

“Yeah,” he said, looking turned on too, “right. Slow.”

Biting my lower lip, I walked back into the bathroom, where I slid out of the dress and bra, throwing them in the trash can by the toilet.

I put on the shirt, thankful that it went down to the middle of my calves so you couldn’t see that I was completely naked under it. Then I walked back into the room doing a slow turn. “How do I look?” I asked, almost falling over myself, but when I looked toward the bed, he wasn’t there.

I started to panic, until I saw that he was sitting in his chair. Then he rubbed the back of his neck and said, “No comment.”

“Why not?” I asked, brow crinkling. I was a little hurt by that.

“One word.” He paused, holding up his finger. “Slow.”

I laughed. “Are you hungry?”

“Not for food.” Wow, that was dirty even for Mike. I was so proud of him. “Are you?”

I shrugged, trying not to hurt myself. It didn’t work. “Not really. Just don’t tell me anything that’s shocking.”

“I promise I won’t,” he said, giving me his scout’s honor. “Are you feelin’ better?”

“A little,” I said, slowly walking up to him. “Why?”

“I was a little worried,” he admitted. “But I see that you’re a fast healer.”

“I’ve always been that way.” I plopped down on the bed and grimaced, which made him laugh. “My mother always said I was her tough-skinned girl.”

“That’s cute,” he said, smiling at my pain. “Real cute.” He took a deep breath, and I had a feeling he wanted to tell me something.

“What are you not telling me?” I asked, crossing my legs and folding my arms.

“You said that I shouldn’t shock you,” he reminded me. “And I’m kinda afraid I will.”

I sighed. “Fire away.”

“You need to steer clear of here tomorrow night.” He seemed upset. “It’s the full moon.”

I rolled my eyes, relaxing my arms a bit. “Oh, is that all?” I waved off his fear. “No problem.”

“Really?” he asked, looking like he was trying to make sense of my reaction. “You would do that for me?”

I nodded. “Yes,” I said slowly. He wasn’t making any sense. “Why?”

“No reason.” He seemed on edge.

“Is this because of what happened when you came down the stairs?” I asked, and he nodded. “I wasn’t scared, if that’s what you’re thinking. Although I was a bit confused.”

“About?” he prompted.

“I thought you could only change during the full moon.” That wasn’t the only thing that puzzled me, but it was the only thing I was willing to talk about.

“We change entirely during the full moon,” he explained softly. “But we’re very protective creatures, and when he took you down there, I kinda got mad. So I summoned all my strength and turned into what you saw.”

I nodded thoughtfully. “Interesting. I’ll have to keep that in mind. So what do we do now?” As soon as I asked, I knew I shouldn’t have.

“Do you really wanna know?” he asked, his eyes looking me up and down. I could feel him undress me with them. And then I wondered,
Should I?

I got up, holding my hand out to him, and he cocked an eyebrow at me. After a moment’s pause, he took it, and I lifted him off the chair, turning so that he was in front of the bed. Then I pushed on his chest, and he sat down.

“What’re you doin’?” he asked as I placed a knee on either side of him, leaning down so I could kiss him. Then I moved my hands down his hot chest and body, undoing the zipper on his pants.

“Pat.” He shivered, looking down at my hands. “What about—”

“Oh, trust me,” I whispered softly as I pushed him down on the bed, “I’ll take it nice and slow.”

Neither one of us knew what would lie ahead. We didn’t know whether Samuel would come after us or if we could live in Louisiana without the pack finding out or if the apartment building allowed pets, especially big ones.

But I did know one thing. Tonight, slow and steady would win a race far more important than any question imaginable.

THE END
For now, anyway…

BOOK: Graveyard Shifts: A Pat Wyatt Novel
5.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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