The Wolf Who Loved Her (6 page)

“I found this in the alley,” he replied, pulling out a small handkerchief. “It smells of your mate and someone else. Someone that I sniffed out a few nights ago when I was doing reconnaissance at River Oaks, a local cemetery two miles away. My gut tells me she’s there.”

“You’re sure about this?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s go.”

They leapt into their cars and drove a half a mile. When they neared the forest’s entry, they got out, stripped, and shifted into huge werewolves. Ian moved to the front of the pack and let out a howl as deep as his soul. Then he nodded towards the woods and took off, the others fast on his tail.

****

The sound of laughter woke Joni from a drug induced sleep. She came to with a start; her head pounding with pain, her legs feeling like a ton of bricks. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the bright morning light and surrounding area. At the realization that she was in a small cemetery, she muttered a curse. She hated cemeteries. Rows of crooked tombstones flanked her on both sides, while tall trees surrounded the small patch of land. The place was deeply secluded—a perfect place for murder.

“You’re awake,” a man’s rough voice said somewhere behind her. “Good. It’s time to start.”

Joni spun around so quickly her headache roared to life. She squeezed the sides of her temple and breathed out slowly, desperately trying to manage the pain. A strong putrid scent lingered on her lips, fogging her brain. What had they given her? She swallowed hard and looked up.

Two men sat on tombstones, twirling long knifes in their hands. Both had straight black hair, dark eyes, and canines the size of swords. They were dangerous. Rogues, Ian had called them, and they were looking at her like she was their plaything.
Stay calm, girl. Stay calm.
If she could deal with a trashed store, a deranged killer, and a hot werewolf in the span on a week, she could work her way out of this mess.

The familiar voice inside of her laughed.
You sure about that, honey?

“You shouldn’t have taken me,” she said. “Ian and the others will kill you.”

The larger of the two strolled towards her. She scooted away and collided into a tombstone.

“Did we tell you to speak?”

Affronted, she glared. “What did I ever do to you?”

“We don’t like your mate.”

Anger flared in her chest. “He’s never done anything to you.”

“On the contrary, I mean to rid the Midwest of him and his self righteous pack for good.”

“Look, if this is about Terrance—”

“Shut up,” hissed the other man, his eyes glowing bright, a sign he’d be shifting soon.

Propelled by her anger, Joni continued. “If this is about Terrance, Ian didn’t mean to kill anyone. It was an accident.” She grimaced. Even in her mind it sounded lame, but what was she supposed to say?

“Don’t test us, human,” said the one advancing. “Not when we’re about to have fun.” A sick smile curved his lips.

Fear crippled her. A werewolf wasn’t going to barge in and save the day like before. She was on her own, in the middle of nowhere. Trembling, she searched the grass for a weapon. Anything would do—a stick, a rock, anything!

“But...but he’ll find me.”

“Humans,” he snickered. “Your ability to remain hopeful would be admirable if it wasn’t so pathetic.”

Fisting a clump of dirt, she flung it in his eyes then jumped up and made for the tree line. Somewhere behind her she heard laughter. “Good. We like to chase.”

Her lungs burned and her legs ached as she ran through the woods. If they caught up with her...she didn’t want to think that far. Escaping was still a possibility. She just had to believe.

Leaping over tree trunks and ditches, she pumped her arms as a second wind came over her. Maybe there was a town nearby. Shit, right now a spooky abandoned house would do. A chainsaw murderer would be child’s play compared to these sickos.

She ducked behind a tree, ignoring the lashes from the prickly branches.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
She was seriously screwed. Catching her breath, a moment of inspiration came to her. The book. The book about spells she’d read last night had mentioned something about punch spells. Sure, she was no witch. But hell, anything was worth a shot when psycho werewolves wanted to make a meal out of you. Besides, hadn’t her ancestors been powerful witches back in the day? Maybe she had some sort of recessive gene.
Please let my ass have a recessive gene!
Figuring it was worth a shot, Joni chanted the words she remembered from the spell just as a ferocious howl erupted in the air. The wolves were nearing. Any minute now, they’d sniff her out. Any minute now, she’d be dead. Trying to block out the howls and negative thoughts, she concentrated on the spell, concentrated as she had never concentrated before. As if on their own accord, her hands begin to glow a soft pink hue. The glow grew brighter. Stronger.

What in the world?

Suddenly her kidnapper was grabbing her from behind the tree, and pulling her up by the shoulders. Twisting like a pretzel, she let loose a soul shattering scream. It crackled in the air, sending goose bumps down her spine. One minute she was screaming, and the next minute she was on the ground. She twisted around and gasped at what she saw. A huge black wolf sat on top of a gray colored wolf, wrestling in his arms. Ian! He’d found her. Both of them were in their wolf bodies. Both beyond intimidating, with huge canines and deadly claws. Stunned, she watched the battle.

With a head-butt, the wolf sent Ian flying across the woods.

“Ian!”

The sound of cracking bones exploded in the air when he landed at the base of a hollow tree. Others werewolves began to attack, but they met similar demises from both of Terrance’s thugs. Perplexed, Joni stared. What were these boys on? A super psycho werewolf killer drug?
For Christ sake
. She ran in front of Ian in an effort to protect him.

He was still in his wolf’s body, and badly hurt.

She locked gazes with his green eyes.
“Leave,
” she thought she heard him say.

“No,” she yelled. “Not without you.”

“Don’t be foolish, sweetheart.”

“Don’t be pigheaded!”

She turned to face the werewolves who were advancing towards her. It was time for her to do some rescuing of her own.

“Leave...us...alone!”

With one flick of her hands, she sent a bolt of pink light in their direction which sent them tumbling down a hill of leaves. She stared at her fingers. Wiggled them.

“Hell, yeah!”

Just then, Ian leaped up and pounced on one of the stunned wolves, going for the jugular. His pack joined in and went for the other wolf. Within minutes, the deranged wolves were dead, and Ian was back in his human form, holding her in his arms.

“I don’t know what I did,” she whispered. “My hands just took control.”

“It’s okay now, sweetheart.”

Ian sighed in relief that his mate was safe. The sight of her in that wolf’s clutches had rocked his sense. But she was okay now. My God, she was alive.

Chapter Seven

The following week Joni murmured a spell that sent her books flying against the wall.

“Good,” she mumbled. “Now everything’s in order.” She sat behind the cash register and sighed. The Dewey Decimal System be damned!
She could place her books wherever she wanted with a simple snap of her hands
.
Being a witch did have its advantages. Who would’ve thought that she’d been a witch all these years and that it took a moment of crisis to bring her “juices,” as the witches she befriended so loved to call it, out of her? Forget selling books, she should write her own.
The Amazing Adventures of Joni the Witch.

With a smile splattered on her face, she turned and looked at Ian, who was reading a book in one of her comfy chairs. Would she ever grow tire of studying his handsome face? He was as gorgeous as ever and she was still her frumpy self. She shrugged. It didn’t matter. They were in love.

He must have sensed her thoughts because he looked up and met her gaze. Without saying a word, he stood and gathered her into his arms. Joni buried her face in the crook of his neck, reveling in the feel of his warm body. For minutes, they lost themselves in a play of tongue and lips. She was on the verge of ripping his clothes off when the front door slammed open.

Trichelle marched down the narrow aisle in all her sequined glory. A ton of jewelry hung from her neck. With scarlet red lips and an out of this world afro, she looked like a leggy Pam Grier. Her round eyes widened in surprise at the sight of them.

“Jonalle Watson, where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for four damn days. Don’t tell me you’ve been shacked up with this dude all this time.”

Joni wiggled her eyebrows. “Maybe.”

“Girl, what has gotten into you? Was the dick that good?”

Joni blanched at her friend’s bluntness. Sometimes her friend was a trip.

“’Chelle, this is Ian, my mate.”

“Your what? Okay, what is going on? Did you marry this man? Have you lost your freaking mind?”

“No. It’s a long story.”

Trichelle crossed her arms. “I have time.”

Joni told her friend the story of how she was attacked by a deranged wolf, fell in love with a real one, escaped hounds of hell, and discovered she was a witch. She skipped over a few details and extended the good parts.

Trichelle leaned on the counter. “For real? I mean, I knew you were always strange—but a witch? So you could make a spell for shoes, right? Like wish for a hundred, no wait, a thousand pairs of shoes?”

“Trichelle, no.”

“What?”

“No,
Trichelle.”

Ian and Joni laughed as Zachary walked in. As soon as he spotted Trichelle, a wicked smile curved his handsome face, a dimple springing to life in his left cheek. He ran a hand through his silver white hair, and scanned her from top to bottom, his beautiful gray eyes shining bright. It was lust at first sight.

Used to the attention, Trichelle ignored him.

“Oh, great,” murmured Joni. “Not these two.”

“Let’s not worry about them,” whispered Ian, pulling her towards the upstairs landing.

She grinned. “Ian, we have customers.”

“They can wait.”

“Where are you going?” Trichelle yelled.

Over her shoulder, Joni flashed her friend a sympathetic look. “Sorry, girl, duty calls!”

In the shadows of the hall, Ian licked her neck and squeezed her ass. Despite herself, she giggled.

“What do you have planned?”

“You’ll see,” he replied, lifting and carrying her up the stairs.

Wrapped in his embrace, Joni stared at the man she’d come to love deeply, the man who’d kicked her cautious life to the curve for good. He’d taught her about the wonders of love, and for that she’d always be grateful to him. Noticing the lust in his eyes, she felt her skin shiver with anticipation. His wolf was close to the surface; his control unraveling bit by bit.

They reached the apartment.

She slid backwards onto the bed and arched an eyebrow in his direction. “Come here, doggie.”

“I told you,” he growled, “I’m not a dog, sweetheart.”

Joni answered his growl with one of her own. “Prove it.”

With an arrogant grin, he molded his body against hers, and did just that.

About the Author

Kasey Moone lives, works and writes in Atlanta, where she claims to be the biggest romance junkie within the city’s limits. When she’s not daydreaming, she’s watching paranormal TV shows, True Blood and The Twilight Zone being her favorite, and wondering who’s hotter: vampires or werewolves?  Her interracial and multicultural stories sizzle with strong, funny heroines and hot heroes!  Kasey enjoys hearing from readers through email at [email protected].