Beta’s Challenge (3 page)

Tara woke with the worst hangover in the history of alcohol. Her mouth tasted as if someone had poured an entire bottle of Elmer’s glue in there while she slept. Her head was so heavy, it felt as if it was connected to a mason block and the block was anchored downstairs in her living room. She did not even try to open her eyes. Contemplating how she was going to pull of the maneuver of getting out of the bed, Tara groaned at the anticipation of the coming pain.

Deciding the best way to get up would be to roll out; she slowly rolled to the side of the bed closest to the bathroom, making sure not to lift her head off the pillow as she did. After accomplishing that feat, she slid off the mattress until her knees hit the floor. Then she crawled to the bathroom with her head hanging a mere three inches from the floor. Once she made it to the bathroom, she stopped, frozen. Tara slowly rotated her head toward the toilet and stayed in that position, trying to figure out the best way to do this.

Being one of the top African-American female attorneys in Montana was of no use to her in this case. She was ruthless in the courtroom, here in her own bathroom, on her hands and knees, proved a bigger challenge than any case she had to date.

“Okay, Tara, where do you go from here?” she muttered to herself, trying to come up with an easy way to get on the toilet. After a couple more minutes of contemplation, she finally decided the pain was inevitable and stood.

The room began to spin as soon as her feet were planted firmly on the floor. With the last ounce of energy she had, she pulled her pajama pants down and flopped on the toilet, hoping she hit her mark. As she began relieving herself, she quickly realized she still had her panties on.

“Fuck it. I am not getting back up. They are wet now anyway. Damn.”

After sitting on the toilet ridiculing herself for her stupidity for about twenty minutes, she finally got up, took off her remaining clothes, threw the panties in the trash, and took a shower.

An hour later, Tara made her way downstairs to the kitchen and poured herself a mug of coffee.  Just as she raised the mug to her lips for that first sip, the phone rang causing the mug to slip and hot coffee splashed on her hands. She ran to the sink and ran cold water over the burn, forgetting about the phone. Her answering machine picked up. It was Toya calling to see if she was okay.

She sat at her island and drank her coffee saying she would call Toya back after she finished. Tara had just finished her first cup and was on the way to the counter to pour her second when the doorbell rang.

“Who in the world can this be, this early on a Saturday morning?” she mumbled as she headed to the door.

“Who is it?” she asked as she reached the front door.

“Gabriel Young, beautiful Tara.”

Tara did drop the mug this time. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“What are you doing here and how did you know where I live?”

“I will be more than happy to answer any questions you have if you will let me come in.”

“Hell, naw! I don’t know you well enough to let you inside my house. I don’t even know how
you
knew where I live. You could be some kind of stalking serial rapist, for all I know, and I prefer not to bring that kind of shit into my home. Why are you here so early in the morning anyway?” Tara said, all the while cleaning up the mess she made when she dropped the mug on the floor.

“It’s not morning, Tara. It’s two o’clock in the afternoon and I told you I’ll answer all your questions once I see you. Are you all right? You sound a little strange. Is anything wrong?”

“My man is here with me and I don’t want to wake him,” Tara lied, hoping that would get him to leave.

“There’s no one in there with you, Tara. I would know,” Gabriel replied.

“What are you, some kind of whack job? You don’t know anything about me. We danced at the club last night and then you went your way while I went mine,” Tara said getting a little nervous. All the cases she’d worked involving stalkers and abusive men was starting her mind on a roller coaster ride she didn’t want to find herself on.

“I know more about you than you think. Just let me in and I will tell you everything,” Gabriel said, impatience beginning to seep into his words.

A cold chill raced up and down Tara’s spine. What did he mean and how did he know anything about her when they just met last night?

Tara backed away from the door and rounded the corner. As soon as she cleared the front foyer, she turned to the stairs and ran up them, taking them two at a time. She tripped on the last step but quickly got up and headed to her bedroom. She ran to her bureau and opened the drawer containing her nine-millimeter, checking the clip as she ran to the widow to look down. When she opened the curtains to look out, Tara screamed and jumped back, dropping the gun in the process.

Gabriel was outside the window standing on the ledge that couldn’t have been more than three inches wide. Righting herself, Tara turned and headed back toward the door to her bedroom. Before she could reach it, strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back against an even stronger, solid chest.

Tara screamed.

Gabriel placed his hand over her mouth. “I won’t hurt you. I only want to talk to you. I am going to remove my hand now. Please, do not scream. Give me a chance to explain.”

Then it hit her. That scent. The same scent that had her swooning in the parking lot at the club. Tara calmed instantly, her body warming to a fever pitch.

Gabriel knew the moment the Primale scent hit Tara. Only the true Prima for each male would be affected by the scent. “Now that you’re calm, I’m going to release you. Please let me talk to you and explain everything okay?”

Slowly, Tara nodded her head in agreement.

Gabriel slowly released her and as soon as she was completely free, Tara bolted through the door, down the stairs and headed for the front door. Before she could get the door opened, those strong arms and even stronger scent overtook her again.

This time, Gabriel didn’t release Tara. He walked backward with her in tow until they were in the living room. He sat down on the couch and placed Tara in his lap. Gently grabbing her chin, Gabriel turned her face toward him and raised it enough to force her to look him in the eyes. He kept his hand over her mouth though to prevent her screams. He could not afford for her neighbors to come investigate the cause of the commotion. Tara, being the stubborn female she is, would not open her eyes.

“Open your eyes, Tara,” Gabriel said sternly but softly. “I am not going to release you until I explain. A lot of this is going to be hard to believe but I can prove everything to you. I do know you and if you just allow yourself to calm down long enough, you’ll realize you know me as well.”

Tara slowly opened her eyes. Once she looked into those silver-gray orbs, all protests left her body. She so wanted to melt into his arms but the rational side of her brain screamed,
‘Bitch, are you crazy?’
Deciding to side with the rational side for the moment, Tara gave a small nod of acceptance and listened.

“You are my Prima, Tara, my mate. I am a werewolf, formerly of the Seeley Lake pack. I was the Beta until I left because of a disagreement with my alpha. Tomas, Adrian, and I are on the run now as there is a price on our heads, especially mine, set by my former alpha and childhood friend.”

Tara tried to speak but it came out mumbled through Gabriel’s hand.

Gabriel removed his hand but kept his arm firmly around Tara’s waist.

“Serves you right. I am about ready to put a price on your damn head, too. Breaking and entering, holding me hostage in my own home… Wait, wait, wait, wait a damn minute! Did you say you’re a
werewolf
?” Tara asked.

“Yes. That, among other things is what I said Tara,” Gabriel said trying hard to hide the smile playing on his lips at how his woman’s
brilliant mind could process so much at the same time.

“Okay, now I
know
you’re some kind of psycho.” Tara started squirming, trying to get away but Gabriel held her with minimal effort.

“Let me go and get out of my house!” Tara screamed at the top of her lungs. Gabriel placed his hand back over Tara’s mouth.

“I can’t do that Tara,” he said. “Not until I make you understand.”

Tara bit the palm of Gabriel’s palm, making him remove his hand from her mouth. “You can’t make me understand a damn thing. The only thing you can do is let go and get out,” Tara said in her
“Don’t fuck with me”
voice that made most men piss their pants.

“Tara, please—” Gabriel started only to be cut off.

“Fuck you!” Tara yelled, still squirming, trying to get loose.

“Not until I finish explaining,” Gabriel said with a smile that would melt a glacier. From what Gabriel could smell, it also had Tara’s panties getting a little wet.

She stopped struggling and looked at him. “You are a cocky son of a bitch, aren’t you?” Tara said, the fight slowly leaving her.

“Only where you’re concerned.” Gabriel said.

“Yeah, well, you may as well wipe that shit-eating grin off your face because nothing you tell me is going to make any difference. As soon as you let me go, I’m going to call the police and have you arrested for breaking and entering and holding me hostage,” Tara said with bravado she really didn’t feel at that moment.

“That would probably work, too, if I’d actually broken in, which I didn’t because you left your window open.”

“Semantics,” Tara said.

“Your right. Okay, listen, Tara.” Gabriel tried again only to be cut off again.

“No, Gabriel, you listen. You can’t just barge in my home spouting fairy tales about werewolves and mates and
…
” Her words trailed off as Gabriel closed his mouth around hers in a kiss so sensual, it should be labeled as a lethal weapon.

Gabriel broke the kiss after realizing breathing was a necessity he couldn’t do without only to open his eyes and stare into the dreamy look in Tara’s eyes. His resolve snapped. He had to make her understand. Snapping his fingers in front of Tara’s face, Gabriel rose from the chair, then turned and set Tara back down. “Tara!”

“Huh?” Tara answered automatically to hearing her name.

“Look at me, Tara.” Gabriel said again, snapping his fingers a couple more times.

Tara looked at Gabriel, still a little fuzzy headed from the kiss.

Gabriel had walked to the other side of the living room. He began to remove his clothing one piece at a time. Tara’s mind was so confused, she didn’t even register Gabriel was standing in her living room naked as the day he was born. One second Gabriel was standing there staring at her, the next, a giant red wolf stood in his place.

Tara thought she was still hallucinating from the fog-induced stupor caused by the kiss and the slight headache left from the hangover so she just brushed it off. That is until a furry head rubbed against her hand. Tara shook her head then looked down. She was up and over the couch in one leap.

“What the fuck?” Tara yelped as she looked for anywhere she could get quickly to get away.

Slowly she began backing toward the kitchen. If she could get to the cutlery set, she could get a knife. She had to find some form of weapon and a knife seemed to be the most appropriate one for this situation.

“Nice doggie. Stay. Play dead. Roll over. Don’t bite me, doggie.” Tara said hands out in front of her as she made her way to the kitchen.

The wolf kept pace with her. For every step she took, it took one, too. When she backed herself into her kitchen island, she knew she was stuck like chuck because by this time, the wolf was right in front of her.

Tara stared at the wolf, which seemed to be laughing at her, if a wolf
can
laugh. Reaching back on the counter top, she grabbed the first thing her hands touched, a telephone book, and hurled it. The wolf sidestepped it and continued to stare. That momentary distraction was all Tara needed. She leapt up on the counter and began throwing everything within her reach. The wolf lazily dodged everything that came his way.

After she ran out of things to throw, she looked around for an escape route. Being on top of the island counter didn’t leave her many options. She looked back at the wolf. It had sat on its haunches, staring at her.