The Legend of the Werewolf (18 page)

How were they supposed to do
that?

***

The inside of Anne’s chest fluttered
with relief. She grabbed her chest and heaved a grateful sigh. For
a minute she thought there was a real problem.

"Jesus, don’t scare me like
that!”

“
You don’t see the
problem?”

She shook her head. “Bonding
doesn't work that way, Cowboy. Not like with vampires where they
just see the person they’re meant to be with and poof! Instant
love. A werewolf chooses their partner,
then
they bond."

Mike had looked at her skeptically.
"That's not the way I heard it works, not the way we studied back
in Griffon."

He was going to argue with her, a
werewolf, on how a werewolf bonds? Duh. "Well, how’d you study it?
Who told you it was like that?"

"Read it in a book actually. I'm a
detective in a paranormal city that's not supposed to exist. I need
to know about these things."

Anne tapped her finger on her arm,
unimpressed. "Next time you should actually ask a werewolf about
these things instead of just reading about it and hoping whoever
wrote the book knew what they were talking about."

Mike bristled. "It's a standard text
book, updated yearly. We're told to read it."

She couldn’t believe he was actually
defending a system of learning, a system that was affecting the way
cops worked. On top of that, defending a book that was wrong. It
wasn’t annoying as much as it was ridiculous. “Don’t you have
werewolves working with you to tell you that the books are
wrong?”

His jaw tightened.

A little smirk wormed her lips up into
a curl. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“We do. They just … keep to
themselves.”

She bet they did. Anne could picture it
in her head. “Uh huh, let me guess, the one or two wolves you got
working with you stick to themselves, not hanging out with any
humans or anything, right?”

“They’ve been invited to
join—”

“
This isn’t about inviting them.
You could invite Gordon and the entire pack to your barbeque next
door with free food, a flat screen TV, and an in ground pool, it
doesn’t mean they’d show up.”

He was the one to smirk this time.
“They’d turn down an invite from their precious
demi-god?”

“
Fine, maybe they wouldn’t turn
it down if you invited them, but werewolves are lone creatures
outside the pack. The pack is their social network, their family,
friends, all that. It’s kind of rare that we choose our mates or
friends outside the species.”

Which was what made Chris and Westley
so special.

His lips became thin and frowny again.
“If this is true then when I get home I’m going to have to make
sure everyone works on their communication better.”

He looked at her. “Would that
help?”

She shrugged. “It should, I guess. Your
wolves can even help explain what is and isn’t true about
werewolves.”

“
I’m guessing it’s a lot,” Mike
said.

She nodded. "You should get a new book.
No, wait! Get one of your guys, or girls, I don’t know if your
wolves are guys or girls.”

“They’re men.”

“Great. Get your wolf-men back in
Griffon to write some papers on Lycanthrope for you. That’ll help
you with the facts part.”

He shook his head. “Still wouldn’t be
good enough. Now that I know most, if not all, of our reading
material on the paranormal is flawed, next time it’s written we’ll
have to make sure facts have been checked.” He looked at her again.
“I’ll send you their papers.”

Anne jerked back a step. “What? What
for?”

“
The papers will have been
written by werewolves, sure, but I want to make sure this is done
right. Having essays written and proof read by werewolves would be
a big help. An extra set of eyes and all that. You can add anything
that’s missed and whatever else there is with editing.”

She was touched. Heat surrounded her as
though she’d dipped herself into a warm bath. Her hand reached up
to her neck. “You want my help?”

He shrugged. “Why not? I trust
you.”

The heat in her bath just went up a few
degrees. How did they get from talking about how their plan wasn’t
going to work to her helping him with a werewolf manual?

“
Uh, great. Anyway, back to
before—” because if they didn’t get back on track, things were
going to get a lot hotter. “—if we pretend to be bonded, my pack
mates will buy into it. If anyone asks for proof, no one knows
you're psychic."

His mouth and nose curled, as though
being reminded of it put a bad smell in his nose and a sour taste
on his tongue. "Right, anyway, just remember it's easier for me to
get what you're saying in your head if you concentrate on allowing
me to hear it."

"Gotcha, and if anyone
asks—"

"'We couldn't help ourselves. It happened
before we realized what we did, we're sorry but we're in love.'
Right?" Mike said, repeating the words she'd spoken to him
earlier.

She shivered, pretending for just one
second that he meant what he said and wasn’t just reciting a line.
"Exactly. Wouldn't be the first time something like this happened
in this pack either."

***

"Alright. You ready to act all
lovey-dovey?"

Mike grinned and adjusted his hat.
"Won’t be hard."

He delighted in the blush that colored
her pale cheeks. The red stood out so much he bet he could see it
in the dark. If he ever managed to make her blush in the
dark.

"Um, right." Anne turned the knob and
swung open the door. Mike threw his arm around her waist and
together they walked out.

Mike kept his eyes on her face and threw
on an ‘I wanna take you back to my room for a few hours’
expression.

It wasn’t hard to fake.

In fact, he wasn’t faking at
all.

This should be an easier said than done
kind of operation. Now that he had her close, it was amazingly
easy.

Anyone who looked at him would see he was
enamored. Not that it was difficult. Anne was a pretty thing to
look at, didn't shy away from his touch like Jackie had, and didn't
seem to care that he was a psychic, like Jackie had.

Probably because she was a werewolf and
knew he could hardly get inside her head even if he
tried.

She stared up at him with the same
adoration. Eyes sparkling and pink mouth smiling. It would be so
easy to pretend it was real. God, she was beautiful.

An awed hush followed their entrance
and blanketed the crowd circling the door to their cabin. The hairs
on Mike’s arms and back of his neck pricked.

He pulled his eyes away from admiring his
captor to stare back at the crowd. He’d been so caught up with
looking at Anne’s face that he actually forgot that there would be
people there.

All eyes from the twenty-five to thirty or
so people, stared at them. Mike’s flesh stiffened. It reminded him
of being a kid after him and everyone else in town, discovered his
ability.

When he’d step into a store, a room,
anywhere, everyone hushed down. They’d either just finished talking
about him, or figured that if their mouths were quiet, their minds
were as well. As if it could keep Mike from hearing every dodgy and
perverted thought.

This was different, though. They weren’t
quiet out of fear, they were shocked.

Mike's hand tightened around Anne's waist.
She sent him a questioning glance before dazzling him with that
smile of hers before presenting it to the stunned
onlookers.

"I think…" She turned her head away shyly,
glancing up at him and blinking a whole heck of a lot. Jesus, if he
didn’t know any better, he’d actually think she was in love with
him.

Since
he did know better, all he could do
was marvel at her acting skills while he held her hand. "I think we
have some explaining to do...sweetheart."

Sweetheart
.

Well, it was better than being
called honey bear or sugar muffin. Still,
sweetheart
nearly ripped a giant laugh from his
throat. If it looked like he smiled tenderly at Anne while fighting
back a snort, then all the better for their act.

He forgot all about the curious stares as
he tugged her closer. "I guess we do...honey."

He grinned when the dimples on her
upper cheeks twitched. Her throat constricted and her smile looked
ready to shatter. She was having trouble holding back laughter
too.

"Oh…you." She tossed a slow, light
punch to his shoulder.

He laughed a little at the pathetic
force of the attack. Her lips thinned and she pinched his
ribs.

Mike jumped and yelled. He was ticklish
and didn't want her, or anyone, knowing it.

Too late. “That’s my big guy,” she cooed,
her sharp incisors moving in for his sensitive spots.

“No, no!” Mike spasmed, laughed out
loud, then clasped her wrists to keep her from going at him
again.

“
Stop it,
muffin
.” Mike half glared at her. He
glanced up to see if they were making idiots of themselves for
nothing, as he feared was the case.

Women stared with their hands clasped
together, either grinning broadly or fighting back tears. Most of
the men were still confused, but others seemed to get the picture
as their wives explained it. Their eyes went wide when
understanding donned.

Mike tried to probe into their heads.
Their expressions were helpful but he'd rather know for sure. He
caught only a few words, but still enough to tell him their show
was working.

Who would’ve thought?

That skinny woman who insisted on
wearing high heels at a ranch, a new pair today, Fanny, was the
first to come forward. She pointed her finger at them. Her mouth
gaping.

"You ... how did ... when did this
happen?" Fanny asked once she could form a proper
sentence.

Mike looked at Anne and she looked at
him. Both knowing who was going to answer that question and what
the answer would be from their rehearsal.

"Well," Anne started. "We honestly don't
know. It might’ve happened when Mike was helping our wounded
friend, Chris. Or, when we were fighting off the shadows last
night. Might’ve been the night we even met."

If Fanny knew that he and Anne had
known each other for two days then he was sure she never would have
swallowed it. As she did not have that info on hand, she nodded at
Anne's answer without question.

Another voice piped up, "Aren't you
supposed to be getting married to Westley?"

Mike didn't know the name of the
shorter man who asked. He opened his mouth to answer, since it was
his line, but Anne beat him to it. Her voice hard, ready for an
argument that she was determined to win.

"That's what we want to talk to you all
about.” Her hand returned to the cradle of Mike’s palm and he
squeezed for support. “Gordon's the one who made this decision for
a marriage, and unless the entire pack goes to him and asks him to
break off the wedding, I'll have to get married to a man that I'm
not bonded to."

A low murmur spread throughout the crowd.
Everyone looked at each other, all shaking their head, appalled at
the very idea.

The voices mashed together so easily
that Mike could only pick out a few words among the
rubble.

"The wedding has to be called
off,"

"She's already bonded,"

"We’ll speak with Gordon,"

He couldn't believe it.

As if this was working so easily. What
were the odds? Pretty damn good apparently. An exhilarated rush
from a job well done bloomed inside him.

He barely said a word. Just stood
there, and they were going to get Anne out of the marriage with
Westley.

He never knew werewolves took their
bonding so seriously. Then again, he also didn't know that they had
a choice in who they bonded with before today.

His happy, accomplished rush left him.
They were all too willing to let Anne off the hook, but he had yet
to say anything about a phone call home, or even how to get Westley
out of being married off to someone else.

He’d saved the lady from an unhappy
marriage, but their mission had yet to be accomplished.

Fanny clapped her hands to gather the
attention of the crowd. "As we can see, a marriage between Anne and
Westley is now out of the question,"

Mike leaned his mouth down to Anne’s
ear. “She second in command or something?”

Anne pressed herself closer to Mike and
shook her head. Her words were so soft he barely caught them. “Just
likes to think she is.”

The scent of her hair wafted up
directly under his nose. Inexplicably, his lips were drawn to it
and he placed a tender kiss on top of her head.