Walker put his water bottle on the floor beside him. “All right. Here’s your proof. It’s clear we’re not going to make any headway without it.”
He rose to his feet and moved several yards away from her, which, in the small cabin, took him to the wall. He pulled his gray T-shirt over his head and threw it on the floor, kicked off his shoes, unfastened his jeans and pulled them down his hips. He was naked underneath, and his erect cock thrust before him, thick and dark.
Sherrie swallowed and clenched her water bottle. He was aroused by her fear. That was how sexual predators worked. He’d come for her now, try to rape her. All she had to bash him in the head with was this light bottle and a few karate chops barely remembered from a class taken nearly two years ago. Yet, despite her being paralyzed with terror, that same perverse shiver of erotic interest shot through her at the view of so much lean male muscle and taut skin.
As if guessing her fears, Walker paused. “I told you. I’m not going to hurt you. But you won’t believe me without a demonstration, and I can’t do this with my clothes on.” Sherrie stared at the crazy man standing before her and braced herself.
The change was so subtle at first she thought her eyes were watering and blinked. John Walker’s face and body shimmered like an oasis mirage seen through desert heat. It was as if he were melting like candle wax, softening and liquefying. His face elongated, while his arms and legs lengthened and grew thinner.
All of his proportions changed, and he went down on all fours. His hands and feet transformed into paws.
Dark gray hair, or rather fur, sprouted everywhere, covering his skin. He grunted, but the only other sound was a wet squelching and a brittle noise like ice cracking as his muscles and bones reconfigured into a new shape.
Sherrie thought with spacey detachment.
That looks as if it hurts like hell.
But if her mind was calm, her body reacted on a more primitive level. She crab-scuttled backward across the floor while she screamed and screamed and screamed.
The woman’s shrieking went on and on, piercing his head with its shrillness. He laid his ears back flat and curled his lips, baring his teeth to show his disapproval. He commanded her to stop with a growl, but that only made it worse.
She screamed again, threw her empty bottle at him and scrambled to her feet. Her wide gaze darted frantically around the tiny kitchen area. A couple of grocery bags sat on the counter. She picked up one and hurled it at him with better accuracy this time. The bag hit him in the head and knocked him backward. It fell to the floor, and canned goods and vegetables spilled out of it.
He leaped sideways and circled around, cutting off her route to the door.
Must keep her here.
His thought process worked differently when he was in this form, but he was still aware of his other half with all its needs and agendas. The woman was important, not like other humans, and she wasn’t to be harmed, no humans ever were. He couldn’t let her go. Not that she could outrun him even if she made it through the door.
Tongue lolling, he moved closer and breathed in her scent, rich with pheromones. Fear and sexuality oozed from her pores. His hackles rose and his cock did too. He wanted her, wanted to mount her, even though she wasn’t one of his kind. Gathering strength in his haunches, he leaped up and landed with his paws against her shoulders and his muzzle on a level with her face.
She screamed, another knife-like wail that shredded his eardrums, and pushed against him. But his weight bore her down, dragging her to the floor with him on top of her. He wanted to fuck her, wanted her to turn over on all fours so he could bury himself deep inside her. He wanted to whine and bite her neck and come into her hard.
No. Not like this.
The inner man pulled sharply on the leash connecting him to his primal ego. John Walker struggled back to the surface, gathering in the dark folds of his wolfish alter-ego and binding him.
The body shifted again, painful to do it twice so quickly.
The man re-emerged, smooth-skinned, two-legged, so limited compared to his wolf strength and stamina. And still the woman beneath him screamed. She’d damage her vocal chords if she didn’t stop soon.
“Sh. Sh,” he soothed, his hands braced against her shoulders and his body pinning her flat. “I told you I won’t hurt you. That’s not what we’re here for.” But his aroused body made it hard for her to believe him.
Sherrie twisted and wiggled beneath him. His cock ached and strained into the cheap polyester waitress uniform covering her soft belly. He couldn’t resist pushing, thrusting lightly with a rock of his hips.
John grunted and rolled off of her. “Sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Hah!” She gave a sharp bark of laughter that sounded as harsh as her screams and began laughing hysterically. She sat up and drew her legs to her chest. “Don’t know what came over you,” she gasped through her laughter. “That’s good.”
He grabbed his jeans off the floor and thrust his legs into them, pushed his erection inside the fly and fastened it so fast he nearly caught his sac in the zipper.
“Sorry to scare you, but you’d never have believed me otherwise.” He sat cross-legged, facing her. “I didn’t do this lightly. I can count on one hand the number of humans I know who know about our existence. And I can count on one finger the number I’ve allowed to see me transform.” Her giggles abruptly cut off like water from a tap. “I’m honored,” she said dryly. “Why me? Why did this happen to me?”
“I told you, you’re chosen or marked in some way. Divined as being someone important to the shifter world.”
She rested her elbows on her knees and covered her face with her hands. “Every kid daydreams about discovering they’re magical or a super-hero, but this isn’t the kind of fantasy I had. This is a nightmare.”
“It doesn’t have to be.” John touched her foot, the only part within his reach. He didn’t know if he meant to be comforting or if he simply needed to make contact with her. He, who’d always been against shifters mixing with humans, was undeniably attracted to her, and when he was interested in a female, he had to touch. That was the way wolves demonstrated affection: a playful nip, a bump of shoulder, a muzzle rubbing their mate’s neck, broadcasting sexual or friendly intentions.
Sherrie pulled her foot away as if he’d scalded it. Her face jerked up from her cupped hands, and she glared at him. “What do you expect me to do? How long are you going to hold me here?”
“As long as it takes to figure out what your part is in this.”
“What if there is no part? What if it’s all a big mistake? Will you let me go after what I’ve seen or is this like the Mafia?”
He smiled. “No, I’m not gonna whack you and I will return you home after you’ve helped do whatever it is you’re supposed to do.” It was frustrating not to have a better answer. He’d like to know why he was holding her as much as she would. Was Anna really wise or was she going senile?
But no. This woman was unique, not quite human. He’d felt it much more strongly when he was wolf, but he could sense it now too. And his burning need to possess her refused to abate. It was a powerful yearning beyond his control and different from anything he’d ever felt.
John shook off his desire and rose. “I’m going to make you something to eat. I brought a box of supplies along, which you chucked at my head. You’ll feel a lot better with some food in you.” She snorted. “You think I could eat anything right now?” He turned away. He was going to cook anyway, to give himself something to do while he figured out what to do next. Besides, he was starving after expending so much energy shifting in just a few minutes’
time. His metabolism had devoured every scrap of his power, and the engine needed to be stoked.
“I understand your shock, and again I apologize for frightening you. Kidnapping you wasn’t my choice. I would’ve liked to introduce myself another way, let you get to know me first then reveal all this.
But the others… Well, time is critical right now.”
She watched him warily as he picked up some apples and oranges that had rolled across the floor.
“What about that other one you were talking to when I woke up? Who is he? Where did he go? And where are we? If you really don’t intend to hurt me then I have a right to know everything.”
“Fair enough.” He set the bag on the kitchen counter and began putting perishables into the small fridge. “His name is Brian Cox. He’s one of the pack elders, our governing council. He insisted on acting on Anna’s vision and bringing you here immediately. His youngest child is one of those stricken, lying in a coma.”
“Where is ‘here’?” Sherrie leaned against the counter, arms folded.
John wondered how much he should tell her. She was right in thinking they couldn’t let her go back to her old life. Not knowing their secrets and not unless they could trust her. But what was the alternative?
What would the pack decide, and would he stand against them if he didn’t agree with their decision?
“We’re in the mountains outside Boulder, so I haven’t taken you far from home. The nearest town is Browning, and that’s where most of the pack lives. It’s the perfect location, since we have access to open land and an eco-friendly town where we can work.”
“How nice. That sounds perfect for you.” Her tone could’ve dehydrated a watermelon. “Tell me more about life as a…werewolf.”
He closed the fridge door with his foot, holding several eggs in one hand and a package of bacon in the other. “Shapeshifter or just shifter. You conjure up images of Lon Chaney in bad makeup with the other. Besides, wolves are only one segment of the shifter population across the globe.”
“Other people who turn into animals, all around us, all the time?” Sherrie pressed her folded arms tighter to her body, which forced the tops of her breasts to swell upward so her cleavage showed in the neckline of her dress.
John’s flagging cock hardened again. He ignored it as he set a frying pan on the hot plate.
“Not as many as there used to be. Habitats are dwindling for us like they are for all animals, and it’s hard to live our ‘alternative lifestyle’ in an urban environment.”
“I’m sure the shifter squirrels and raccoons and rats do fine,” she quipped.
He turned to look at her, impressed by her breezy attitude. “Not many people could adjust so quickly.
You’re a very strong person.”
“No. This is me barely keeping it together. Inside, I’m running around screaming and crying, but where I grew up you learned to act tough or got your ass kicked.”
“Where’s that? I don’t really know anything about you except your name and your current address.”
And your delicious smell, which I could isolate blindfolded in a crowd of people.
“I lived in Gary, Indiana a long time ago. Scrawny trees and brown grass. Not like here. I had a single mom and no dad or siblings. Followed my high school boyfriend to Hollywood where we were both going to be big stars. Five years and twice as many boyfriends later, I moved with an eco-zealot named Tom to Boulder. I thought Tom was better than the rest of the losers I’d picked, but he turned out to be just a different flavor of asshole. I can’t believe I’m telling you all this! It’s none of your business. I always blurt things out when I’m nervous.”
“I’m glad to know something about you.”
And glad you’re beginning to trust me enough to share your
story.
He laid strips of bacon in the pan, and they immediately began to sizzle.
“I’m the one who should be asking questions, like about how this whole shifting thing works. How did you get the way you are? Do you have super strength? Does it take a silver bullet to kill you?”
“Why? Do you want to kill me?” He smiled at her, but she didn’t smile back. He washed his hands and turned to face her, lounging against the counter as if he were relaxed when actually his system was sizzling like the bacon. Sherrie set his nerves on edge, woke up his very cells and made them vibrate with need.
“Okay. Shifting 101. We’re born this way, not made by a bite or anything. Like I told you, we’re not human, but a different species, even though we can easily pass for human. There are few cross-species matings. We generally stick with our own kind. We don’t have super powers or extra longevity and a rifle can kill us like it would any other animal. That’s why we have to be extremely careful where we hunt.”
“Why take animal form at all if it’s dangerous? I can see it doesn’t take the moon cycle to change you.
If you control the change by your own willpower, why not always stay human?”
“Why do you have green eyes or brown hair?” he countered. “It’s what we are. To deny that aspect of ourselves is to not fully live. Like a dancer who’s crippled or a gay who’s afraid to leave the closet.
Understand?” As he stared into her bright, sharp eyes, he wanted her to understand.
She nodded. “Yeah, I guess I get that.”
Another wave of that terrible yearning to have her washed over him. The feeling was nearly uncontrollable as if it came from outside himself. He wanted to grab her and drag her up against him, kiss her hard and then fuck her harder.
John bent to scoop his discarded shirt from the floor and put it on, shielding his burning skin from her roaming gaze. “Any more questions?”
“What do you do when you’re not prowling around the woods or kidnapping women?”
“I have a sporting goods shop in town.”
Sherrie laughed then clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. It’s just so…surreal, so bizarre.
You’re a real Clark Kent.”
“Except I never get to be Superman,” he reminded her. “I can run pretty fast as a wolf, but I can’t stop a city bus and lift it over my head.”
She smiled and her eyes crinkled at the corners. She had a dimple in each cheek that invited a kiss.
“I’d like you, if you weren’t keeping me a prisoner.”
“I’m not. I mean, I am, but only for a short while. When the Council decides what to do, we’ll leave here. This cabin was just a place to go where I could break the news to you, ah, gently.”
“Real gentle, knocking me to the ground and slobbering into my face.” She rubbed her shoulder.