Authors: SL
writing a story for her magazine and we can't be too careful."
"So, why did you block my mind, too? Huh?"
Ray turned around to face him. "Sorry, Derek, it's an old habit. I'm
still not used to having another
sithech
in the family. No hard
feelings, okay?" A thin smile curled over his lips.
"Yeah, okay." Derek cracked his knuckles. "Don't worry. Meg
will be careful, I'm sure."
"I hope so." Ray's gut tightened as he thought of Jac. She seemed
trustworthy, yet he got the feeling something was strangely amiss. It
was times like this when he wished his intuition was as finely tuned as
his sister's. However, Megan herself had once confessed to him that
her psychic abilities were both a blessing and a burden.
"Well, I'd better get started on Ms. Hamilton's car." Derek headed
toward the door. "That is – " he stopped and winked at Ray, " –
unless someone wants me to take my time with the repairs."
A low growl escaped from Ray's throat before he could stop
himself.
"Hey, it's just an idea." Derek held up his hands. "Calm down,
would ya? Is this full moon getting to you?"
"Ah, Hell's bells! It's not the damn moon fever." Ray grumbled,
curling his fingers into his belt loops. "I mean, why can't a guy like
someone without everyone knowing?"
"Not when you're
sithech
." Derek grinned. "Besides, your scent's
all over her."
"That's because she's wearing my jacket." Ray shook his head in
disbelief as his brother-in-law pulled open the door.
A cold draft of air blew in, making both men curse before Derek
slammed the door behind him. But even the frigidness of the blast
didn't cool Ray's passion. He imagined her spread out beneath him.
He struggled to keep focused on his duties to the pack, but the
previous conversation with his sister still haunted him.
"You like her, don't you?" Megan had asked, offering him a
steaming cup of coffee from the garage's coffee pot.
"She's nice ... for a stranger, but she won't be in town long." Ray
flashed his sister a grin, taking hold of the cup. "Besides, I have other
things on my mind."
"Like what, bro?" Megan raised an eyebrow.
"Just pack related stuff." He shrugged.
"That's what you say every full moon, Ray." Megan frowned. "You
need to get a life."
He couldn't help but laugh. Once again his little sister was right. "I
take my duties to the pack seriously. You know that."
"But if you're not careful, you're going to turn into Dad." Megan
chuckled. "Remember when we were kids? Every full moon, he was
always preoccupied with the pack. I don't know about you, but it used
to drive me nuts."
"Yeah, I remember." Ray nodded then sipped his coffee. "Things
are different, Meg. I know it's my duty to protect the pack, but I'm not
going to let it overshadow my life."
"Uh-huh." Megan grinned, folding her arms over her chest. "So,
have you asked her out yet?"
"Geez! When are y'all going to get off my back?" Ray shook his
head.
"Y'all?"
"Yeah – you, Rhonda and Bruce. It's nerve-racking!" he grumbled.
Megan let out a snort of laughter then angled her head, studying
him with a softer, gentler smile. "We just care about you, bro. That's
all."
"Well, y'all have a funny way of showing it." He smirked.
They sure did, but their
sithech
-blood ran thick. Ray was touched
they cared about his well-being. However, he really wished they'd
stop being so nosy. "Maybe this is one of the reasons Ritchie
disappears out of town every few months," he mumbled as his
thoughts turned to his twin. For once, Ray felt a tiny pang of envy at
his brother's nomadic lifestyle.
He tossed the empty cup into the trashcan, contemplating the day
ahead. Since the uncertainty of the weather, he'd a few days off from
the latest construction project. Ray glanced over at the clock on the
wall. It was almost noon. Several of his crew members would be
heading to The Red Lion for a couple of games of high-stakes pool.
Ray rubbed his palms together, grinning. With any luck, he could
double his money in no time. He decided to head over to the bar.
* * * *
career. Her interview with Mr. J.T. White, head of public relations
for Heather Grove, had been running along smoothly. However,
when she changed the topic to wolves, things started to slide downhill.
Her heart was pounding in her chest as she managed a thin smile.
"So, Mr. White, you're denying my source's reports of wild wolves in
Heather Grove?"
"My dear, that's complete hogwash." The older gentleman flashed
her a wide, toothy grin. Mister White definitely lived up to his name.
The older man seated across the mahogany desk had a head full of
stark white hair. Jac guessed he was close to retirement age.
However, the sparkle in his cobalt-blue eyes told her the PR manager
was still as sharp as a tack.
"I've lived here all my life and have never seen any wolves, Miss
Hamilton. You're friend's sorely mistaken."
"My source," she corrected, straightening in the chair. "My editor
has sent me the files with claims about wolves in the local area. I was
hoping you could help shed some light on the subject, Mr. White."
The gentleman blinked then leaned forward and steepled his fingers
together. "Now, when I was a little boy, my mama used to tell me
that if I didn't behave, the big, bad wolves would come and take me
away." He chuckled, then shook his head. "But, I repeat, I haven't
seen any wolves around here. I'll swear it on my family bible."
Frustration boiled in her veins, but Jac remained calm. If the town's
public relations manager was denying her source's claims, she would
have to pull out the 'ace'.
Reaching into the folder on her lap, she retrieved the tiny
newspaper clipping she'd slid into the assignment folder. "Then
perhaps you can explain this." She held it up between two fingers.
"Would you like to tell me about the werewolf sighting last
Halloween? This small article's from your local newspaper."
"T-that was a mistake. That local rag didn't get the facts right
worth a damn!"
"What do you mean?" Jac leaned forward, still dangling the slip of
newspaper.
Mr. White's face went pale as his grin faded into a thin, tight line.
He was silent.
From the look on the older man's face, Jac knew she'd struck a
nerve. She pressed on.
"According to the article there was a wolfman running amok on
Halloween during the full moon. Since you're in public relations, Mr.
White, would you care to fill me in on the facts?"
"Why? There's nothing to tell." Mr. White shrugged his shoulders.
"A local man got drunk, put on a Halloween mask and started some
trouble, that's all."
"Was he arrested?" Jac poised a pen to her notepad.
"Yeah, sort of. He was also a bit nutty." Mr. White gestured a
finger to his temple. "You know, mental."
"What's his name?"
"Oh, there's no need to bring up dirty laundry, miss." He frowned,
folding his arms over his chest. "The police arrested him and sent him
down to Columbia. You know, to get his head checked, but it's
something I'd rather not discuss."
"If you won't answer my questions, Mr. White, then perhaps the
police department will." Jac squared her jaw and began to rise from
the chair.
"Hold on!" Mr. White abruptly stood. "His name's Jerry
MacDonald. His family's pretty prominent in town and so is one of
the folks he attacked. Like I said before, it's best to forget about it.
No use stirring up trouble, Miss Hamilton."
Jac jotted down the name and then slowly rose from her seat.
"Well, thank you for your time, Mr. White." She extended her hand.
"It was my pleasure." His hand was clammy as he shook her hand.
"If you have any other questions, please feel free to contact my
office."
Once she was out in the hallway, Jac drew a deep breath to calm
her nerves. She'd interviewed many people in her career, but she was
glad this interview was over. Strolling down the marble-tiled hallway,
she tugged the laptop bag over her shoulder and pushed open the door.
A cold blast of air greeted her.
Damn, it's getting colder!
Jac cast
her eyes to the sky. Big, fluffy snow clouds loomed overhead. She
buttoned up the jacket, thankful that Ray had let her borrow it earlier.
The warmth of the jacket instantly made her feel better as she caught a
whiff of his telltale scent. There was something about him that stirred
her libido like an aphrodisiac. Jac smiled and started down the
sidewalk toward Jewel's Family Diner.
After a bite of lunch, she was planning to access the Wi-Fi and
Google up a few answers.
Answers to questions Mr. White wouldn't answer.
* * * *
multicolored patterns swirl over a map of the surrounding area. He'd
already won an extra fifty playing pool, but decided to quit when
Rhonda Morrison breezed into The Red Lion. If she played, no one
would win but her.
Sipping on a plain coke over ice, his thoughts returned to Jac.
Maybe I should ask her out. What harm could it do?
He gave a soft
sigh. It had been a long time since any woman had sparked his
interest. However, Ray couldn't shake the fact she was human, but
she seemed to be open-minded. If he told her about his
sithech
-blood,
maybe she'd understand. But, then again, he'd have a better chance at
winning the lottery.
"There are flurries outside." A voice pulled him back to the
moment. Ernie Campbell slid up into the empty barstool at his side.
"The school's closing early and so are some of the businesses. I think
everyone's heading to the grocery store for bread and milk."
"Yeah, bread and milk are the staples of a Southern snowfall." Ray
chuckled, shaking his head.
Ernie leaned in closer. "I've got a bit of news about you know," he
said in a lower voice.
Ray raised an eyebrow, the smile faded from his face. "What's
up?"
"I did a little bit more work on tracing that damn hacker. It's local,
all right. It seems this SOB is using a wireless over at the diner."
Ray frowned. "It could be anyone with a wireless in town," he
shrugged. "Everyone heads over to the diner to link up."
"Yeah, I know." Ernie shifted in seat. "I took the liberty and went
by the diner. I asked Mary Lynn if she's seen anyone using a wireless
and acting uh, funny."
"And?"
"Nothing. She said no one seemed out of the ordinary," Ernie
sighed. "Hell, there are at least a dozen people in the diner at any
given hour checking emails or playing online games."
"So, we're at a dead end." Ray took another sip of coke.
"Not unless he tries again, but I doubt it." Ernie held up his hands in
frustration.
Ray sat back and gave Ernie a friendly pat on the back. "Well, you
did your best. Come on, let me buy you a drink." Ray inclined his
head toward the bar with a smile. "You deserve a little something for
your hard work."
He could sense the younger man's frustration. What he lacked in
brawn, he made up for in brains. Ray had overridden the pack to let
Ernie into the tight-knit council. Several members had complained,
but Ray stood his ground ... and was glad he did.
The snow was falling harder outside the diner window, but Jac
barely noticed. Her eyes had been glued to her laptop screen since
she'd arrived, her fingers pecking away on the keys. Jac was
searching, but, so far, her online search had been unsuccessful.
Without taking her eyes from the screen, she picked up her coffee
and took a sip. Jac wrinkled her nose. The coffee was cold. "Excuse
me?" she lifted the mug into the air, signaling to the only employee
left in the diner ... the cook.
The man reminded her of 'Mel' from the old'70's TV sit-com,
Alice
,
but with a nicer disposition. He came to her table with a steaming
carafe of freshly brewed coffee and refilled the mug. "If it keeps this
up, we'll be up to our eyeballs by morning," he said with a slow,
Southern drawl and nodded to the window.
Jac glanced out and shivered at the thought. Flashing him a smile,