Wolf Watch (The Madison Wolves Book 8) (6 page)

I opened the cooler and pulled out two bottles of water. Zoe eyed me critically.

"They're refilled," I said. "We reuse them until they die." Michaela had long banned disposable water bottles for pack events, and now we always reused them. I didn't try to explain that.

Zoe nodded at my explanation. I held the bottle out for her, and she approached cautiously before taking it from me. But she sat down on the far corner of the blanket and opened her bottle.

There were limited
explanations for her behavior, and I could only think of two. Either she'd been badly hurt in the past, or she knew what I was. I didn't know how she could have discovered that, but my research into her past hadn't uncovered any signs of abuse. Still, only so much was readily obtained, and she could easily have been assaulted without having reported it.

I
considered asking her about it, but she was acting like a frightened animal, and I didn't want to corner her, not even verbally.

Instead, I pulled my phone out, unlocked it, and said, "Call someone."

"What?"

"Call someone. Tell them you're with me. Elisabeth Burns of Burns Protection Services." I fished out my driver's license and tossed it after the phone. "Tell them where we are. Tell them you'll be with me until at least midnight."

"Elisabeth, that's not necessary." But she picked up my driver's license and examined it. "This isn't the same address as your business card."

"The house in Madison. We're not there much anymore, but it's still in Lara's name."

She eyed my driver's license for another moment, then the phone lying on the blanket between us.

"You're safe, Zoe, but if you want me to take you somewhere you'll feel safer, I understand."

"No," she said. She looked flustered. "I'm sorry." She moved closer, collecting my phone then holding the phone and driver's license out to me. I took them and put them away, and when I held my arms open, she moved into me.

We held each other tightly.

"I'm sorry," she said again.

"I won't push tonight, but someday, will you tell me what set that off?"

"Someday," she agreed. "Have I ruined our date?"

"Just made it a little more dramatic," I replied. "Maybe we should eat a little, then we can throw the Freebee around."

"I'm not very athletic. Not like you."

"That's okay." I released her and we settled onto the blanket. I pulled out the rest of the food, and she began laughing.

"You went to Carly's!"

"For yours. Sushi for me, but I b
rought enough to share."

I set everything out. There was more than enough food for both of us. I had silverware, but Zoe eschewed it, picking up one of the pairs of chopsticks. She was quite expert with them as she dived into her soy-something-or-other.

I would have preferred a big steak, but I could show some sensitivity. Not enough to eat whatever she was eating, but I didn't need to be an overt carnivore in front of her.

I wondered what life would be like for a werewolf and a vegan
dating each other.

We ate quietly for a while before I asked, "So, we were deep into a conversation when we arrived. What's your answer about overpopulating deer?"

"Let the wolves repopulate. Problem solved."

"So, let me get this right. It's wrong for a hunter to kill a deer, but it's okay for a pack of wolves."

"The wolves are part of nature, the circle of life."

"We're all animals," I replied. "We, like wolves, are apex hunters. Aren't we also part of that circle."

"We're an unnatural interruption to the cycle. We are the only creatures on the planet that kills for sport."

"No, no," I said. "You don't get to switch arguments. You don't get to claim I shouldn't eat venison because the deer died for sport. That argument makes no sense, if I'm at the dinner table with a slice of medium rare venison in front of me."

"You're under a false assumption, Elisabeth," she said. "I never said you shouldn't eat venison. Not once have I tried to tell you what you may eat. I asked you not to eat some of the foods in front of me. But I haven't complained about your sushi, and I wonder if you have a California roll over there."

"I do, actually. I picked it for you." I opened one of the packages that was still sealed, exposing a couple of rolls. "But that one's spicy tuna."

She took a piece of California roll and popped it in her mouth. Then, just like Michaela frequently does, she closed her eyes and moaned in appreciation. I almost laughed at the similarity, but I didn't want to confuse the conversation.

She finished the piece then opened her eyes and smiled. "You're laughing at me."

"I'm not. You were saying?"

"I am not telling you what is acceptable to eat. I am making my own decisions. I do not want other creatures killed for my food, clothing, or furniture. Yes, I swat mosquitoes, as I do not choose to be their meal, either. I believe there are ample
food choices available to me that do not involve killing other creatures, and the vast majority of the choices I make are also more environmentally sustainable than, for instance, eating beef."

She shook her head. "Beef is amongst the least environmentally sustainable choices."

"I believe that's an argument against overpopulation rather than dietary choices," I countered. "Wisconsin is a major food exporter."

"Wisconsin is a major food exporter now," she agreed, "but it does so at the cost of imported oil from other parts of the world. We use petroleum to power our tractors that grow our food-"

"Those same tractors are used to raise your soybeans."

"True, but soybeans require far less petroleum and far less water to sustain me than your hamburger requires to sustain you. My choices aren't perfect, but they are better than yours."

"Oh? And when I eat fish from the lake or venison hunted on the property?"

"Those choices are both better than eating a hunk of beef," she replied. "Although they are not sustainable for the global population."

"That's another overpopulation problem," I said.

We went back and forth for a while. Then I picked up a piece of the spicy tuna roll, holding it in front of me. "Does it bother you to watch me pop this into my mouth?"

"Would I prefer that you joined me in a vegan lifestyle?" she asked. "Yes, I would. But I wouldn't go so far as to say it bothers me. What bothers me is the level of ignorance people have about the food they eat. I seek to educate, not dictate."

I nodded and popped the tuna into my mouth.

The reality was that while perhaps humans could live on a vegan lifestyle, I could not. Even hunting was a necessity for a werewolf's mental well-being. A vegan wolf would go mad if he didn't die from malnutrition first. But I wasn't going to argue that position with her. I wasn't quite ready to come out to her, after all.

We finished our respective meals and packed everything up. Zoe smiled then lay down on her back, staring up at the sky. "That was very thoughtful, Elisabeth. Thank you."

"You're welcome." I plopped down next to her, then slowly reached out a hand to clasp hers. We hadn't touched for the last forty-five minutes, but I wanted to see if she was feeling calmer.

I could still smell the fear wafting off of her, and I wouldn't want to be amorous with her unless I could erase or cover the scent with something else. I have known of werewolves who find the fear scent intoxicating, but I have never been one of those. It makes me deeply protective but not at all amorous.

"I'm sorry about earlier," she said. "You don't need to worry that I'm going to freak out again."

"It's all right," I said. "It is the night of the full moon, and I did admit I've been known to howl under it. Perhaps you're worried I'm going to sprout fangs and become some sort of slavering beast."

"Are you?"

I laughed. "No."

"Then I'm safe, as you've repeatedly said."

"Ready for some exercise?"

"Are you a really bad throw with a Frisbee, and you're going to make me run all over for it?"

"I am a very good throw with a Frisbee, or of anything else I choose to throw, and if you find yourself running all over for it, I assure you it is entirely intentional.
I will, of course, be watching you the entire time."

She laughed. "Well, I am a horrible throw, and if you find yourself running all over, it's your own fault for bringing a Frisbee instead of a deck of cards."

I climbed to my feet, pulling her up after me. I grabbed the Frisbee then walked a short distance away and tossed it to her.

She dropped it.

We threw the disk around for a half hour. It was, well, painful. Finally I said, "You know, you're not just bad. You're downright dreadful."

"Oh, way to boost my ego," she replied. "I did warn you."

"You must have the hand-eye coordination of a... um..."

"Of a what?"

"I can't think of anything with particularly poor coordination," I admitted with a laugh.

"Perhaps a one-eyed hippopotamus," she suggested.

"Yes, exactly. If hippos had hands and a means of demonstrating their lack of coordination."

"That's me," Zoe said. "The one-eyed hippo." She cocked her head. "It's not a very flattering image."

"You have other skills than Frisbee," I pointed out. I moved closer to her, tossing the Frisbee lightly. She managed to catch it, barely. I had to lunge for her return throw.

Dusk was settling, and the full moon was peeking over the treetops to the east. Zoe had stopped exuding fear scent some time ago, but it lingered about her, now mixed with other scents brought on by physical activity. They were deep, wholesome scents. I threw the Frisbee to the blanket then eyed Zoe.

"Oh, oh," she said. "What does that look mean?"

I didn't answer but began stalking her. She backed away from me slowly.

"Are you ticklish?" I asked her.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She edged sideways, putting the blanket between us.

"I believe I am about to find out," I replied. I dashed counter-clockwise around the blanket, and, shrieking, she ran around to the other side. We came to another stop, separated by six feet of blanket with the cooler still on one edge.

"I do not believe you should start a tickle fight," Zoe declared.

"Why not?"

"Because I would be at a distinct disadvantage. And therefore, only I am allowed to instigate tickle fights."

I began edging around the blanket to the other side. "I am not sure I agree to this rule."

Zoe held her ground for a moment, but then I lunged for her, slowly, and she skipped away.

"Tell me, Elisabeth," she said.

"Yes?"

"Do you believe that 'no' means 'no'?"

"Of course."

"Then if you don't want to hear these lips --" and she gestured to her mouth "--utter the word 'no' in a very forceful fashion, you'll agree to any stipulations I require."

I made another dash around the blanket. Zoe tried to run, but I easily caught her about the waist then pulled her onto the blanket and laid her down on her back, partially covering her with a leg.

She was shrieking and giggling while trying to squirm away, but I held her in place.

"If I am not allowed to instigate tickle fights," I asked, "just what am I allowed to instigate?"

She turned her face towards me. "I will allow you to instigate kissing."

I took my time. I climbed on top of her a little more fully, pinning her to the blanket. Her face was flushed, and she'd been sweating a little bit. I didn't mind that. I brushed a few errant hairs from her face.

She stilled her attempts to escape; they weren't doing her any good, anyway. We stared intently into each other's eyes, hers flicking back and forth between mine.

"Promise to be gentle," she whispered.

"I will be very..." and I leaned down and kissed the corner of her mouth. "Very..." I kissed the other corner. "Gentle."

Her eyes were closed by the time our mouths fully met. She parted her lips immediately, and I accepted her invitation.

She tasted good. Underneath me, she felt good, too.

I had human friends, although not many. Michele Lassiter and Nick Tate, Scarlett's father, came to mind. And I frequently dealt with humans. But I'd never kissed a human woman before, and I'd never found human males attractive. Frankly, if I wanted a male, even Rory, as immature as he could be at times, was closer to my type than any human male I'd ever met.

But Zoe tasted good. She felt good. Her lips were soft and her body welcoming. She wrapped her arms around my back, her hands splayed against my shoulder blades, holding me to her.

And so we kissed. We kissed deeply, our tongue teasing each other. I supported most of my weight on one leg, stretched along her body, and one elbow, while pressing her body to the ground with a portion of mine. Underneath me, she squirmed and moaned, and her hands curled into claws against my back before pressing against me again.