IcySeduction (12 page)

“Well, go on,” Christine said. “Tell me all of it.”

“Soon I’ll come in here and you can help me get all hooked
up, make sure I’m totally secure. Then I want you to get out of the closet,
shut and lock the door, and whatever you do—don’t open the door. Got that?”

“How will I see you actually change, then?”

He pointed to the freshly cut hole in the door. “Leave the
lights on in there and you can look through here and watch or whatever.” He
felt mildly embarrassed at the idea. He took a deep breath and charged on. “If
you really don’t feel safe after you’ve witnessed the change, you can close the
bedroom door too and sleep in Dean’s room. But if something really goes wrong
and I break through my bonds somehow, don’t hesitate. Get the hell out of the
apartment. Lock the door and find a hotel. Hopefully the front door would stop
me from really flipping out my neighbors.”

“Now I’m scared.”

“Good, you should be. This is not a game.”

“Do you take something like PCP or LSD that gives you super
strength and hallucinations?”

He shook his head. “You don’t have to believe me. In fact,
it’s fine if we don’t talk about it at all, as long as you help me set up and
witness for yourself. Also, it would be nice for you to unlock me in the
morning.” He’d tucked a spare key in the baseboard in case she ran off and left
him, but he really wanted her to be there after so he could see how she reacted
to the craziness that was his life.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Christine said abruptly,
turning away and walking quickly across the room. She went inside the bathroom
and slammed the door.

Jake nodded. “This is going so well.” So while Christine hid
in the bathroom, he filled up a big dog dish with water and another with beef
jerky sticks. At least those were something he ate as a human. He couldn’t
stomach the idea of eating dog food even if he’d be perfectly fine with it when
he was the wolf. The smell would probably nauseate him when he changed back in
the morning. He didn’t want to think about what other smells there might be. He’d
have to thoroughly clean the closet before Dean got home.

His skin felt as if a zillion hives had popped up on every
inch. He hated this part worse than the pain because no amount of scratching
would end the torture, so he did his best to resist the urge.

Christine came out of the bathroom in time to see Jake enter
the closet with two mondo doggy dishes. He set them down and came back out.
That’s when she saw how red and puffy his skin was, as if he’d been stung by a
hive of bees. She rushed over and touched his arm, which was on fire. “Did
something bite you? Are you allergic to anything?”

Jake stroked his fingers through her hair. “Christine, it’s
the change.” He sighed. “It’s almost time.”

She looked up from his arm and saw the tendons in his neck
tremble. She touched his neck and his pulse seemed to pound out of him into her
own body. As she looked up farther, she noticed more hair on his chin than had
been there half an hour ago. Had she just not noticed? Every part of his face
was inflamed. “Do you have an EpiPen?”

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her just a little. “You
are the most infuriating skeptic I’ve ever met!”

“Told a lot of people about this werewolf thing, have you?”

“Actually no. Saron found me. You’re the first person I’ve
told flat out.”

“Or you would’ve been locked at Bellevue already.”

Suddenly he arched away from her and moaned. Then he jerked
the other way, and with every movement, there seemed to be just a little more
hair on his body. When he regained control, he looked at Christine and said, “It’s
time.”

“Your eyes!” They had changed shape, angled upward.

Jake quickly turned away and headed to the closet, stripping
off his shirt in the process. “My hands are… You’ve got to help me with the
collar.” He was inside the closet now, looking at his hands as the skin seemed
to ripple. He started fumbling with the snap of his pants. Christine was afraid
to follow him in there.

“Now. Christine, you’ve got to put the collar on me now!”

His barked command had her instantly obeying, as if they
were in that dungeon playing master and servant. Her nipples actually stiffened
even though this situation had nothing to do with sex, even though Jake was at
his least sexy with weird bumps and angles and tufts of fur all over him. She
brought the collar up to his neck, but then his head jerked awkwardly and he
cried out. When his eyes came back to her, they looked as if he’d popped in
contacts for a Halloween costume. His pupils were no longer black but a deep
blue and much larger than normal. Surrounding each pupil was a thin ring of
fiery blue. The “whites” of his eyes were a lighter shade of blue that seemed
to glow with the intensity of a nightlight.

Christine stumbled back a step, reaching for the doorframe
behind her, still clutching the collar in one hand.

Jake moved his mouth as if he were trying to speak but
finding it hard. He’d just pushed his pants down as another spasm shot through
him, wrenching a screech from his throat, much like the sound of a kicked dog.

Finally he was able to speak. “Please,” was what he said,
his voice contorted and gruff.

Buck up and get with the program, Christine told herself
firmly. No time to reflect on whether she was insane or had been slipped LSD.
The collar had to go on. She could collapse in a corner and cry later. She
sprung forward quickly and got the thing around his neck despite his
unpredictable movements. He put his hands on her shoulders, but then dug his
fingernails in.

I’m not looking. Just focus. Don’t think.
“Damn this
buckle! Hold still, Jake!” Not that he could control his movements at that
point, but it felt good to yell. She finally had the collar latched so he was
now tethered to the wall. “Now, where are the cuffs?” She started looking
around the floor, where the different bonds lay scattered, but suddenly she
wasn’t seeing the floor, suddenly she wasn’t seeing color. Pain wracked through
her as if she were on a medieval torture device. She screamed and thought she
heard Jake screaming, but she couldn’t see Jake. She saw herself from his eyes
as if he was on her hands and knees looking up at her. Her hands were fisted
against the wall and her whole body was trembling. Her hair was all over her
face and dripping with sweat. The pain ebbed, so she blinked her eyes trying to
straighten out her vision. She turned and tripped over a dog dish, but the
small space kept her from tumbling backward.

“Why can’t I see you? I can only see me. Why can’t I see
what I’m looking at?” Then the pain ramped up again and she didn’t care whether
she could see. She could barely breathe. “Is this what child birth without an
epidural is like?” She started retching. The wall was the only thing holding
her up. She was going to die right here in this closet.

Suddenly she heard chains rattle and giant paws slammed into
her skin followed by a huge force of weight. The momentum had her flying out of
the closet and onto the floor. She landed on her hip, hard enough she expected
a huge bruise tomorrow.

A voice that barely sounded human yelled from the closet. “Shut
the door now!”

Christine scrambled to her feet, realizing the shove into
the bedroom had freed her from the tortuous pain and she could see properly
again. In color and what was actually in front of her eyes, not someone else’s.
She leaned against the door and slammed it shut. Then she slid to the floor,
back against the wood, scraping sounds and howls behind her.

She thought she might have dozed off for a minute or two.
When she started awake, she was in the same spot but no sounds came from the
closet. It took another five minutes of staring unfocused at the bed in front
of her before she convinced herself to stand up and look through the peephole.
What she saw was a huge wolf with thick white fur asleep, chin on his paws, on
the floor of the closet.

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” she mumbled. Had her boyfriend really
just turned into a wolf? Really? Could the world possibly be that strange?

Christine kept the closet door locked all night, but kept
checking through the peephole to see if the hallucination remained. After a
while, the wolf got up, drank some water, ate some jerky, and sniffed every
square inch that he could reach with his collar on. It was hard to get a good
sense of scale looking through the little hole, though. The wolf seemed to take
up the whole closet. Christine had seen coyotes up in the Catskills when
visiting her parents, but never a wolf. As she started to doze, she found
herself thinking about the wolves in the Twilight series and how big they were.
Those wolves couldn’t have fit in a closet, could they?

Christine sat in the chair because she didn’t want to get
onto the comfy bed and do what she really wanted to do—fall asleep. She’d
finally remembered her Taser and retrieved it from her suitcase. Was she afraid
the wolf would break out of the closet while she slept? He seemed pretty docile
so far. The more she caught herself dozing, almost letting the Taser slip off
her knee, the more she felt as if she was dreaming the whole thing. In fact, in
the wee hours of the morning she convinced herself that she was either dreaming
or on a bad acid trip, that the thing that looked like a wolf through the peep
hole was probably a stuffed animal. Jake had to be playing mind games with her.
For what purpose, she didn’t know but no other explanation made sense.

“I’m going to open that door,” she said firmly, though she
was feeling a bit wobbly on her feet from lack of sleep. Her fingers shook as
she reached to turn the door lock. She thought she heard a noise from within, a
shuffling. New York had giant rats—she’d seen them in Central Park once. Rats
made more sense than werewolves, though she’d scream just as hard if she came
face to face with one. “Nothing to fear, nothing to fear.” She turned the
handle, but then she heard a sound that was unmistakable—a low, menacing growl.

Heart racing, she let go of the handle and peered through
the peephole again. The wolf was on his feet straining against the collar. The
skin, fur, whatever was pulled back from his jaw and his teeth looked huge.

“Holy shit.” She paced back to the chair, sat down, and stared
at the clock. It didn’t seem to be moving, but the shadows did. The bedside
lamp was on, as well as the floor lamp behind the chair. The closet light was
on and leaking out underneath the door, but the lights created shadows that
weaved and twisted until she saw mesmerizing, inhuman blue eyes in them. Right
when she was sure she was in a Dali painting or a Hitchcock movie, she woke
with a start. The clock had finally moved a little. It was 4:30 a.m.

Christine started talking to herself aloud. “The thing is,
if I don’t open that door and truly see what is inside there, I’ll keep
doubting. If this is real and Jake turns back into himself at daybreak, I’ll
think he tricked me or drugged me or something. This is most likely the truth.
It’s certainly the most logical explanation.” She wandered into the bathroom
and splashed cold water on her face. “But will the memory nag at me forever if
I don’t truly go in there and look?”

Common sense told her she could lose an arm that way, but
one did not lose arms from hallucinations.

She shook her head as she faced her weary self in the
mirror. “I’ve got to do it. I’ve got to be brave. The thing is chained up. He
hasn’t lunged or tried to get out of the closet.”

Because he’s probably not real.

She had to find out. Besides, she had her Taser giving her
an overblown sense of security.

She found herself once again in front of the closet door
staring through the peephole at what looked nothing like a stuffed animal. She
turned the door handle. She heard the shuffling and growling, but no breaking
chains or cracking drywall. She yanked the door open and peered inside.

The growl-bark-lunge combo had her falling back on her ass,
but then she managed to sit back up and really look at the animal. The low
rumble continued to emanate from his throat as he stood there facing her, but
he was still. No lunging or scratching the floor or chewing at his bonds.
Christine got up on her knees and semi-crawled closer. Once she was even with
the doorframe, she stopped and waited. The wolf stopped growling and seemed to
be examining her intently. Feeling a bit more bold, Christine held out her hand
fingers down to see if he would sniff the back of her hand. He did, his warm
breath tickling her skin, and then he sat back on his haunches and started
whining.

“What’s the matter, fella?” His dish was still half full of
jerky. “I bet you’re used to fresh meat, aren’t you? Jerky just doesn’t cut it,
huh?” She thought of checking Jake’s fridge for some raw steak, but that
thought made her queasy. She moved fully inside the closet and leaned her head
against the wall. She was beyond tired. “So do you change back at the crack of
dawn? Or did Jake substitute a real wolf via a false door?”

The wolf whined again and seemed to shake his head.
Christine slowly lifted her hand to his neck and gave him a pat. There was no
doubt he was real, but then the doubt remained that she’d actually seen Jake
turn into this. It simply made no sense.

The wolf seemed comfortable with her. He lay down and put
his chin on his paws. Christine felt her eyes droop again. She tilted until she
was cuddling against the soft, white fur. The warm animal made a nice pillow.
She fell asleep.

Sometime later, she woke with a start. The wolf licked her
face and she went back to sleep.

* * * * *

Jake gradually woke, immediately realizing he was curled up
naked on an interior floor, not the grass or dirt he’d come to expect since he’d
been going out to the compound. His shoulder and hip ached from spending
however long on the hard surface. He’d missed out on his run last night. Why?

Something moved against him and made a mewing sound. Jake
opened his eyes with a start, becoming aware of the collar on his neck as he
did so. He immediately fumbled for the buckle to take it off. The light from
the bare overhead bulb glared into his eyes, so it took him a moment to
recognize his closet. The remaining beef jerky smelled nasty this morning, but
it swiftly brought back the memory of trying to get ready for his change and
explain things to Christine before the moon overtook him.

Christine.

He looked down to where he felt a warm body spooning against
his. “Christine?” She moved again, just enough to bring his lower body to full
attention, and though he wanted to focus in on that sensation, his mind shifted
warp speed to panic. “Christine!”

She grumbled, her breath against his back. “Shut the hell
up.”

Turning and sliding until he could look at her face did
nothing for her mood. “Pillow!” Her eyes were resolutely closed, though she was
obviously somewhat awake.

“Christine, are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He ran his
fingers through her hair checking her scalp and face for any scratches or teeth
marks. Then he checked her hands and arms. She had a couple of scratches and
bruises, but she wasn’t missing a limb. She was still dressed as she’d been
last night. There was no blood on the floors or walls. No sign of an attack and
she was curled up next to him alive.

How had that happened?

His confusion gave into a strong bodily need. He moved
Christine out of his way as gently as he could so he could lope to the
bathroom. He must not have done his business all last night, which was weird
for the wolf. Normally he’d happily pee on every strange scent in the forest.

And he’d give chase to—and eventually eat—any warm-blooded
creature he could get his paws on.

Jake shook his head. The fact that she was his mate might
not be conscious in the wolf’s head, but it instinctually knew to protect her.
He splashed water on his face, giving a quick look at his faint beard—a lot
less fur than he’d had on him a short time ago. He walked back into the
bedroom, comfortable in his nudity but thinking he’d better put something on
for the impending conversation with Christine. She’d seen him change and she’d
seen the wolf, had actually slept comfortably next to him. That should
effectively erase her disbelief defense. But would that make it harder or
easier to accept the life mate thing?

“Jake?” He heard her low voice, which would have been barely
audible to normal human ears. She sounded as if she wasn’t all the way awake. “Why
am I in the closet? And what is that nasty smell?”

He tugged on his jeans, then walked to the door, looking
down at the bedraggled woman who was leaning somewhat lopsidedly against the
wall. “The smell is beef jerky.” He offered his hand to help her up. “Which
will smell better once you’re outside the closet.” He ignored her other
question as he tugged her up and into his arms. He gently kissed her and when
she responded, he eased his tongue into her mouth and savored the taste of her,
morning breath and all.

But in a complete one-eighty, she pushed away from him and
started smacking him in the chest. She must have remembered why she’d been in
the closet.

Jake gave her some space. “Do you believe in werewolves now?”

Her eyes widened but then she turned her back on him and
rushed to the bathroom. He heard retching at first, then she turned on the sink
water. He sat on the bed, giddy that she’d seen him transform and that he hadn’t
tried to kill her and filled with dread about the conversation that was coming
up. He certainly wanted to get the whole conversation and any yelling out of
the way before Dean came home. Now he heard the shower running, so he found
Christine’s suitcase and pulled out her clean clothes and underwear. He checked
to see if the bathroom door was unlocked. It was, so he slipped the clothes
onto the counter next to the sink and left again so he wouldn’t scare her.

He got fully dressed and ran to the kitchen to slam down
some Gatorade. The truly complicated question was how he would feel about
Christine without the mate thing—would he love her? She still seemed to be less
affected by the bond than he was, probably because she was human, but she’d
felt the connection even when he’d been here and she’d been in Florida.

He would also have to convince her to move to New York so he
could be within driving distance of the compound. Somehow he didn’t think she’d
be happy about that either.

He threw the empty drink bottle in the recycle bin and went
back to the bedroom. He sat on the bed and scooped up the phone to make sure Dean
hadn’t left him a message overnight.

Christine was surprised to see her clean clothes by the sink
when she stepped out of the shower. She was sort of impressed by his courtesy,
but overall she was furious at him. Had he enacted some sort of trick on her in
the closet? If not, how could he have sex with her knowing he was a werewolf?
From that very first time in the cab! And why not leave her alone in Florida
blissfully unaware of what he was instead of jamming it down her throat? Wasn’t
it dangerous to let someone like her in on his secret?

She dried herself off and tugged on her clean clothes, which
was always slightly harder when she was damp from the shower. Her memories from
last night were surreal. Maybe he’d drugged her and used the power of
suggestion. Maybe he was so into BDSM that he wanted to control her through
this massive deception. Maybe he was just plain insane? But she remembered the
feel of his fur against her cheek as she fell asleep and the agonizing pain
that had somehow transferred to her as he was changing. She wished he’d
videotaped the whole thing so she could watch it over and over until she was
either convinced it was a trick, the more logical answer, or that it had been
real.

The knock on the door startled her. “Hey, are you okay in
there?”

“Uh, yeah.” She quickly combed her hair and put a dab of
toothpaste on her finger to rub against her teeth, then gargled water to rinse.
Finally, she felt together enough to emerge from the bathroom.

Jake was sitting on the bed examining her. “I thought I
heard you throw up. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, must have been the smell of the jerky that made me
queasy.”

“Yeah, I just threw that out.”

Christine remained near the bathroom door and wall. She
glanced toward the bedroom door only a few feet away, thinking about escape. In
front of her was the man she’d trusted so completely to let him tie her up and
spank her and anything else he chose. She’d felt safe each of those times,
never doubting he would know her limits and abide by her safe word. But now she
couldn’t get one thought out of her head. “Did you drug me?”

“What?” He stood up and moved toward her. “Of course not!”

She inched a little farther to the left toward the door,
hoping he wouldn’t notice. He did.

“What are you doing?” He held his ground but made no further
move toward her.

“Um, nothing.”

“Are you afraid of me now? After all the trust you’ve placed
in me before, you should know I’d never hurt you.”

“But what I saw couldn’t be real.”

He shook his head as if he was trying to clear it. “And what
you felt. I know you felt the pain…of my change. And you slept with me last
night and even as the wolf I didn’t hurt you. That’s what I’d been so afraid
of, that I’d hurt you without meaning to.”

“Jake, I can’t trust what I saw. It makes no sense. It can’t
be real!” She slid farther down the wall, still a few feet between her and the
door.

“Dammit, Christine, I thought after last night we’d at least
be past this part!”

“What part?”

“The yes-I-am-a-werewolf part.”

She shook her head in denial, so hard she was a bit dizzy
when she stopped. “What’s the next part?”

“The you’re-my-life-mate part.”

“No fucking way!” This time she turned and dashed to the
door, but somehow Jake was there before her. She’d never seen or heard him
move. He was blocking the exit but didn’t make a move to touch or restrain her.