(Un)wise (7 page)

I beat him to the motorcycle and waited, watching him cross the parking lot.  My heart gave a quick stutter as he got closer.  He moved with purpose, and his eyes swept over me.  I tried to squash any signs of my physical attraction, but I couldn’t help watching his long legs clear the seat with ease.  To distract myself, I wondered what he’d look like as a dog.  Would he have those same menacingly eerie eyes?  Would he threaten me with his teeth?

After settling behind him, he motioned to the strap on his shoulder.  I grudgingly lifted the bag around my torso.  Falling from the back of the bike didn’t sound fun.

We pulled away in a hurry.  Even with all of the sleep, I felt the tug of the next dream.  I tried everything from sticking my face in the wind—versus staying crouched behind Luke—to biting my lip as hard as I could.  Eventually, the dream won.

A hand tapping my face pulled me out.

“We need help.  A car.  This isn’t working,” he said gently.

“No, this is fine,” I mumbled peeling my eyes open.  It really wasn’t fine.  We were pulled over again.  Trees lined the sides of the road in both directions.  For a second time, I sat in his lap with the bag and strap twisted around us.  The bike still idled.

“Can you make it twenty minutes without sleeping?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.  “It seems worse with you.”

He looked at me in surprise.  “When I’m near you, you don’t cry out.  I thought your dreams calmed when I...”  He didn’t finish his sentence, but I filled in the missing parts.

He was right.  My dreams did calm when I was near him.  I dreamed of helpful things like glimpses of explanations from the Taupe Lady, instead of my constant pointless death.  In fact, I’d learned so much more after Luke found me than in the prior months.

My eyes widened as I considered the implications.  Was Luke really the key?  In my past lives, after claiming a werewolf, the dreams had come less frequently.  And when they did appear, their purpose was more focused.  So, if I Claimed Luke...

“I changed my mind,” I said quickly.  “I will Claim you.”

“No!”  He flinched as if I slapped him, but his gaze drifted to my mouth.

He remained motionless, studying me, his eyes filled with barely checked wanting.  It wasn’t desire as much as it was the ability to call me his own.  I’d seen that look before in other lives.  They’d coveted me for the power of my knowledge.  Why did he want me?  I decided it didn’t really matter and held myself still, hoping he was reconsidering his answer.  So far, he had kept me safe and treated me well.  If claiming him would end my dreams—or at least slow them—did I need any more proof from him that he would take care of me?  He had already shown he was infinitely better than the werewolves I’d claimed in past live—except maybe Baen.  And it didn’t hurt that my heart was beating out
yes
like an SOS.

The look in his eyes grew tender as he brushed a stand of hair from my face.  His fingers left a trail of warmth where they brushed my skin.  I wanted him to do it again. 
Touch me. 
His breath hitched when I tilted my head slightly.  His fingers trembled as he touched my hair.  Encouraged, my hand drifted to his bicep.

The contact broke the spell, and he hastily set me on my feet next to the bike.  Like cold water splashed in my face, it brought me back to reality.  I needed to claim him for the right reasons—to get rid of the dreams where I died, and not the wrong reason—because he made my insides quiver.

Being connected by the strap didn’t give us much room. It pinned us together and brought my face close to his neck.  I blinked at the opportunity, and I didn’t wait for permission.  I darted in with the intent to end the bad dreams, but my teeth didn’t reach my intended target.

Luke had shoved his hand between my face and his neck at the first sign of my move.  I should have anticipated his speed, I thought.  With my face humiliatingly mashed into the palm of his hand, I grew angry.

“What’s your problem?  I know you feel the pull.  This
is
what’s supposed to happen.”  I resisted stomping my foot as he slipped out of the strap.  Standing tall and out of his personal space, I glared at him.  He looked angry, too.

“No, it is not. Why did you change your mind?”

“I’m tired of dying!” I cried.  “It hurts!  What don’t you understand?  Every time I close my damn eyes, I feel every anguished moment of one of our past lives.  Claiming you will make the dreams better.”  I tried to keep the begging tone from my voice, but by the end, that’s what I did.  Beg.  “Please, Luke.”

Some of the tension eased out of him, and he looked at the trees, taking a moment before answering.

“I promised I only wanted to help you.  And I will.  The dreams are better when I sleep near you.  We will keep doing that,” he said without meeting my eyes.  “Climb on.”

I felt like throwing a fit, but then I realized the position I would be in if I climbed back on—right by his neck.  Keeping the triumphant grin from my face, I slipped behind him.

For the next twenty minutes, he face-palmed me at least fifty times.  When I gave up in frustration and leaned my forehead against his back, his heat started lulling me.

“I’m going under,” I managed to mumble before my eyes closed.

“Try to hold on.  I called for help.  There should be a car ahead,” he called over his shoulder.  He sped up instead of slowing down.

A fear-induced adrenaline spike pushed the dream back, and my eyes popped open.  “What do you mean you called for help?”

I barely got the words out when an object flew from the woods beside us.  Big, black, and furry, it just missed our back tire.  In stunned disbelief, I clung to him as we raced on.  He’d really done it.  He’d called for the rest of his pack.

Luke twitched before me, and I peeked over his shoulder.  In one of the mirrors, I saw the reason.  My heart leapt into my throat as I twisted to look behind us.

It ran on all fours. Its paws pounded the pavement as it gained on us.  With a sleek head and a vicious snarl, it looked just like the werewolves in my dreams.  Seeing it all affirmed, I started shaking.

“Hold on,” Luke warned me.

Relief flooded me.  Not one of his.

“Faster!” I shouted and hit Luke on the back.

He had already twisted the throttle when another shape flew into our path.  Luke leaned far to the left and made a swift deep swerve around the second one.  I clung to his back panting in fear.  We were both going to die.  He barely recovered from the swerve when something snagged the bag on my back—the same bag strapping me to Luke—and pulled. My breath left me in a whoosh.

With my arms wrapped around his waist, my shoulders screamed in pain as I struggled to hold on.  Then suddenly, the pressure eased.  The bike flew forward, riderless, as we stayed in place, hanging in the air.  The strap still connected us.  Luke whipped an arm back to keep me pressed against him while he severed the strap.  We landed with a thud just seconds after being unseated.  The bike glided for a distance and then fell onto its side on the gravel shoulder.

Despite my bruised and aching butt, I scrambled to my feet.  Luke already stood in a semi-crouch near me, facing off with the two dogs that circled us.

“Go,” he said nudging me.

“No, thanks,” I whispered.  Running through the woods away from the only person who might be willing to protect me didn’t seem like a good idea.  Besides, I’d been chased through the woods before, and it hadn’t ended well.

Luke’s skin rippled as he partially changed.  My heart thumped painfully seeing the truth of what he was.  His nails elongated, and his back hunched a bit.  He leapt at the wolf to the right with his upper body, and then he swung his legs to kick the one on the left.  He scored a solid hit on both seconds before he fully burst into his fur.  I backed up two steps staring at the copper-coated wolf.

The wolf on the right shook his head as if to clear it and spun to attack Luke.  The other wolf scrambled to its feet snarling.

Spinning to meet their attack, Luke savagely ripped into the lead attacker’s face with his teeth.  Blood colored Luke’s muzzle as the wolf tried to shake him off.  The second wolf circled the pair watching for an opening.  Luke’s eyes trailed that wolf’s progress as he maintained his gruesome hold.  If the second one attacked, he would have to let go to protect himself and would lose the upper hand.

I picked up a heavy rock from the shoulder of the road and chucked it at the stalking wolf.  Had it been paying attention to me in the slightest, it would have seen it coming.  As it was, the rock hit it square on the right side of its head with a sickening sound, eliciting a yelp of pain.

Luke twisted his hold on the first wolf’s muzzle as he dropped his hind legs and rolled.  He heaved the wolf into the stunned second wolf then went for the throat.  The first wolf couldn’t even manage a yelp.  There was just a gurgling wheeze.  The second wolf, pinned under the first, struggled for a moment before Luke finished it, too.  He turned to me, blinking.  I couldn’t say anything as I continued to stare wide-eyed at the aftermath of the fighting.

Within seconds, both forms shifted back into their skin.  Two dead men on the side of the road with ripped out throats.  I didn’t flinch at the sight.  It was depressingly familiar.

Luke took a few steps toward me, claiming my full attention.  The same hazel eyes, but a little bigger, stared back at me.  Though he didn’t bare his teeth at me, he looked far from friendly with the blood around his mouth.  My chest tightened to the point that it hurt to breathe.  Still, I managed.

He shook out his fur and trotted over to my bag.  With his back to me, he shifted to his skin.  Honey-kissed skin exposed to the world did what the fighting hadn’t.  I felt a little faint.  Blood and gore?  Not a problem.  Luke naked, showing me a perfect backside?  I lost my composure, what little I had, and a tiny sound escaped me.

“Turn around,” he said not looking at me.

“Ha!  No way.” A slightly hysterical sigh escaped me.

He scowled over his shoulder at me and reached into my bag for his hoodie and a pair of my pajama pants.  It gave me a lovely profile view, just barely hiding the naughty bits.  A giggle escaped me as he stepped into what he’d grabbed.  His scowl twitched, and I knew he wanted to smile, too.

Covered, he picked up the bag, marched over to me wearing tight, high-water Tinker Bell pajama pants, and handed me the bag.

“We’ll need to stop for new clothes,” he commented with a wry grin.

I stood frozen, fully seeing his face after his change back, and couldn’t make myself answer with either a smile or a nod.  Instead, I reached into the bag, grabbed a shirt at random, and used it to wipe the blood from around his mouth.  My hand shook.  Okay, so maybe the blood did affect me.

He saw the blood and gently took the shirt from my hand.  He tucked it back into the bag then went to pick up the bike.

He waved me over as soon as he had it started again.

I numbly walked past the bodies and put my hand on his shoulder to take my place behind him.

“No falling asleep,” he warned, setting the bag in front of him.  He used his legs and the broken straps to keep it in place.

I wrapped my hands around him and held on as he took off.  Though I felt the dreams calling and the occasional tug of sleep, I didn’t close my eyes.  I was still wound too tightly from what just happened.

Apparently, my previous thoughts about using an adrenaline rush were right.  It would have been a better method than cutting.

After several turns, we made our way into a town where we both used a public restroom to wash.  We then picked up some desperately needed clean clothes.

“Who did you call about a car?” I asked after walking out of the bathroom a second time—for changing.

“An Elder.  I’ve told him about the attack.  He’s changed plans with his contacts and suggested we come to a more populated area.”

I struggled to remember what an Elder meant, but couldn’t.  I realized I knew how their kind typically behaved, some of their reasons behind their actions, but nothing about their culture.

“What’s an Elder?”

With my Tinker Bell pajamas safely tucked into a new duffle bag, we walked side by side as we slowly made our way to the bike.  I noted several long scratches on the once shiny tank and wondered if he cared.  He had called the thing a death trap on two wheels after all...

“They are the keepers of our kind.  Everything they do, they do in our best interest, unlike pack leaders.”

“What do you mean?”

“Pack leaders want to control their members.  Elders want to guide them.”

“Why have pack leaders, then?”

“Exactly. That’s why I don’t follow one.  The Elders aren’t so bad though.”  He smiled as he mounted the bike.

I climbed on the back and passed him the strap.  Once again wearing his jacket, I ducked behind him as he pulled away, but I tried not to lay my head against him.  Every time I did, I felt the pull to sleep even more.  However, each time I slept against him, the dreams weren’t of death.

“Why don’t you want to be Claimed?” I asked knowing he’d hear me over the wind.

He turned his head and half-shouted his answer knowing I couldn’t hear as well.  “I
do
want to be Claimed. Just not now.”

That hurt.  “I don’t get it.  Why not?  And don’t bother denying the pull you feel for me.  I know you do.”

He shook his head and didn’t answer, frustrating me further.

I didn’t want to dream about dying anymore and didn’t want to spend the rest of this life pressed up against him. Or did I?  It wouldn’t be the worst fate.  But, I truly believed Claiming him would be the key not just to the type of dream I had, but the frequency, too.  I could actually go somewhere without worrying about dropping off.  Besides, if he felt the pull, he shouldn’t have any complaint about me Claiming him.  I should be the only one with an issue with Claiming since it gave him a way to keep tabs on me through the link it would establish between us.

I watched the buildings as we snaked our way through town and wondered if there were other men out there waiting for us.  When we cleared town, the fields and trees didn’t provide any more of a comfort.

The funeral pyre lit the night sky.  My friend’s mother stood beside me sobbing.  The somber faces of neighbors and family, illuminated by the flickering flames, seemed to float in the darkness.  One woman stood out.  She looked at my friend’s mother with compassion as she made her way around the circle of people.  A chord of familiarity struck me, but I couldn’t place her since my family had recently moved here.

Using the lights in my mind, I searched for my little brother and father.  They had remained in our home while my mother accompanied me.  Their life sparks comforted me.  Grief over the loss of my friend swamped me.  She had fallen ill with a sickness that had also taken several others in neighboring homes.  I couldn’t understand why anyone needed to die in such a way.

“Death always serves a purpose,” the woman, who I’d forgotten for a moment, said from just behind us.

My friend’s mother and I turned to look at her.

She reached up and touched the mother’s face gently.  “Often, others die so more may live.  Even the most seemingly random death can have the most profound meaning.  Your daughter’s illness may spark a need in someone’s heart to create a cure for the illness, changing the direction of our society for future generations.  Try not to mourn.  Her death is not meaningless.  Celebrate her life.  Celebrate your life.  To make her memory count, do not squander opportunities.”

The woman turned to me.  “She felt like a sister to you but did not share your blood.  Do not forget her.  Do not forget this feeling of loss.  You can be the one to change the future, to make the lives of those around you better.  Do not squander your chances.”

I glanced at my friend’s mother, confused.  She met my gaze with a stunned tear-filled expression.  When we both looked back, the woman had vanished.

“Come on, Bethi!” Luke said, his voice sounding distant and tinny.

I blinked my eyes open to the familiar sight of him looking down at me.  We were once again pulled over to the shoulder of the road on an idling bike.

“We’re never going to get there at this rate.”

“I’m not doing this on purpose!” I said irritably as I struggled to get off his lap.

He sighed.  “I know.”

I felt his lips brush my hair and stilled.  I knew it!  He did feel the pull.

Tilting my head back, I met his gaze again.  He looked guarded.  “Why?” I said, unable to keep the desperation from my voice.  “Why won’t you let me Claim you?”

“Because you’re afraid and think it’s the only way to help yourself.”

“And?”

“And nothing.  It’s not the way to make that kind of decision.”

“What
is
the way, then?”

A slight flush crept into his cheeks.  “With affection, not fear.”

My mouth popped open, and he gently hoisted me off his lap.  Woodenly, I took my seat again.  He wanted me to like him?  How in the hell did I end up finding the only damn werewolf who wanted to take it slow and get to know each other?

“You’ve been without decent sleep for too long,” he said changing the subject.  “We need to hole up somewhere so you can get some rest. Then maybe, driving won’t be such a challenge.”

I doubted it.  The ten hours at the last place hadn’t seemed to help much, but I didn’t argue.  I was busy trying to figure out a way to get him to believe I had feelings for him.  I found him physically attractive but knew that wasn’t what he meant.  Actual feelings for one of them?  It would be a stretch.

*    *    *    *

We managed to put several miles of traveling time in that day before calling it quits and stopping at another motel.  Using some of the money he’d given me, he got a room for us for two nights so I knew he meant business about me catching up on sleep.

As soon as we walked into the room, I claimed the bathroom and got ready for bed not caring about the time of day.  Luke didn’t comment when I crawled under the covers other than to assure me he would be there keeping an eye on me.  Not really what I needed, but I’d take it.

Pain radiated from my legs.  My muscles spasmed.  Chained to a wall, I couldn’t move much to relieve any of the aches.  Tears streamed down my face.  A tongue licked them away and a low rumble of laughter followed.

I blinked my eyes.  Faint shadows danced around me.

“She’s nearly useless,” a man commented quietly from very close by.  The soft sound echoed off the walls.

Damp cool air had me shivering occasionally.

A hand stroked my face.

“Nearly, but not completely,” another stated from further away.  “Do not touch her.  Let her walk once an hour.  Whatever ill befalls her, befalls you.”

The sound of fading footsteps let me know I was alone with the man who’d touched me.  I caught sight of a shadow moving.  It was the outline of a person.  I turned toward it, trying to focus.

“Stop moving your eyes like you can see.  Close them if you want to keep them,” he warned with a growl.  I closed my eyes while still turned toward the shadow.  I knew the threat wasn’t idle.  However, closing my eyes didn’t change what I saw.  Even with the lids closed, I watched the shadow approach.

The feeling of a hand on my nonexistent breast distracted me.  “You’ve never lived long enough to Claim,” the man whispered.

My stomach flipped in an unpleasant way, and I started to sweat.

His fingers pinched my tender skin, and new tears fell.  “This is going to be pleasant.”

I sobbed knowing what he intended.

The dream lifted slightly as I was jostled to the side.

“Enough of that,” Luke whispered before settling beside me and kissing my forehead.

I wanted to open my eyes, but another dream pulled me under.

The funeral pyre lit the night sky.  My friend’s mother stood beside me sobbing.

My dream-self looked around at the somber faces of neighbors and family, illuminated by the flickering flames, while my real self grew angry as one woman’s face stood out.

Why would this dream repeat?

The Taupe Lady looked at my friend’s mother with compassion as she made her way around the circle of people.  A chord of familiarity struck my dream-self.

I wanted to yell at her from across the fire.  I willed myself to move but stayed locked in place by my dream-self.

Luke shifted next to me.  His movement pulled me from the dream a bit, but not enough that I opened my eyes.  I felt him move away for a moment as the dream continued to play out.  Then he pulled me back to his side.  As soon as my head rested on his warm bare shoulder, the dream faded; and I sank into real sleep.

*    *    *    *

The pressing need to use the bathroom woke me.  Warm and relaxed, I didn’t immediately move.  I wished the urge would go away because I hadn’t slept so well in longer than I could remember.

Snuggling in, I realized why.  My head lay cushioned on Luke’s chest.  Bare chest.  My left arm lay slung over his waist.  Yep, that was bare too.  And my leg...I cringed not wanting to think about it.  Wait.  If I was draped all over him, it meant his neck was only inches away.  My insides somersaulted.  I opened my eyes and darted forward.

His palm blocked me, slightly mashing my nose, and I groaned in frustration.

“Fine,” I grumbled before scooting off the bed and closing myself in the bathroom.  His laughter drifted through the door.

After taking care of business and washing up, I stared at the mirror and tried to see myself through his eyes.  I looked a little less waifish but not very healthy.  I’d lost a bunch of weight and still had circles under my eyes.  Definitely not attractive.  I splashed water on my face, trying to wash away my insecurities.

He wanted to stay here for two days.  I felt as if I’d slept a long time, but I doubted I’d used all of the time he’d dedicated for me to get the rest he felt I needed.  I had time to try to wear him down and convince him of my affection.  I dried my face, and I gave my reflection a stern get-to-it look.

Opening the bathroom door, I found the bed made and Luke sitting in the room’s one chair.

“Get dressed.  We’ll grab something to eat and walk around a bit if you’re up for it.”

Nodding, I moved aside to let him use the bathroom, relieved that I didn’t have to try right away.  I dug out some clothes and ducked back into the bathroom when he had finished.

How had I let boys know I liked them before the dreams exposed the hot mess that was my life?  Long looks, cute clothes, smiling conversation.  I didn’t think any of that would work with Luke.  Trying to trick him was pointless, and I didn’t want his hand in my face anymore, either.  What did that leave me?  Being nice and giving it time?  Actually letting myself grow feelings for him?  I wanted to throw something.  Instead, I opened the door and gave him a halfhearted smile.

A few minutes later, we strolled side by side down the sidewalk in the direction the motel manager had pointed.  A small gas station offered premade sandwiches and bags of junk food.  My stomach rumbled as I eyed the displays, and his echoed it as if they were having a conversation.  He grinned and reached for a bag of chips.  I grabbed for the sandwiches.

With a bag loaded up with goodies, we headed back. He opened the door for me and stood aside to let me in.  After kicking off my shoes, I sat on the bed folding my legs under me.  He set the bag next to me, grabbed a sandwich from it, and sat on the chair.

“Thank you for the food,” I said reaching for my own sandwich.  “And for helping me sleep.  And the walk.  It was good to get outside and not feel like I needed to run.”

He stopped chewing and looked at me suspiciously but nodded his welcome.  Crap, was I being that obvious?  I took a large bite and chewed slowly.  Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned the walk.  I was just trying to be nice.  And thankful.  How else should I ease him into the idea that I cared?

I glanced at him and saw he’d already polished off two sandwiches.  I forgot to eat and just stared as he consumed another triangle in two bites.  Silently, I popped open a bag of chips and offered it to him.  He demolished those and looked at my sandwich which I willingly—and perhaps a little fearfully—surrendered.

“How long was I out?”

“Sixteen hours,” he mumbled around a dessert cake.

“Sorry.  Maybe we should go back and stockpile some more food in case I crash hard again.”  And so I had something to eat, I thought as I opened the last bag of chips.