Winter Howl (Sanctuary) (28 page)

“We have plenty of time for this tonight,” Grant finally said. He sounded out of breath. “All I’ll do by claiming you this way is to make you far more interesting to the others than you’ll want to be. You already smell too good for words like this. If I were to just push down your jeans and wrap your coat around us, I could have you against your own car. And you’d be more than ready. You like it when I bite you. And I promise you’ll like it when you finally let me bite you with my real teeth.”

“So,” asked Renee, in a rare coy moment, “what do you plan to do about this then?” She slipped her hand under his waistband and gripped his cock. “Think about David until it goes away?”

His cock twitched when she said David’s name. She raised an eyebrow and looked at Grant inquisitively. Her strokes were long and slow as she considered him.

“I don’t care who I dominate, my dear,” Grant said. He wasn’t stopping her, although he wrapped his hand lightly around her wrist as though he knew he was supposed to.

“I’m not all that surprised,” Renee said. And she wasn’t.

“Do you know that I’d like to take that junior alpha of yours and turn his world upside down?” he asked softly, the words almost a moan. He finally pulled her hand away from him. “Your pack doesn’t know what an alpha is.”

“Don’t go near Jake,” Renee replied, her voice just as soft as his, but for different reasons. She looked straight at him, forcing herself to confront him

“Don’t worry, love,” Grant said. “If I go after him, it’ll be because he went after me first. And if I give him a new perspective in the process…”

“
Don’t
—” she began.

“Have I ever done anything in your sanctuary if someone didn’t already want it?” He undid the button and zipper of his jeans and began jerking himself off, fist flying over the dark red flesh. His words were shorter, more clipped, as he continued. “I may be a monster, but I’m not that kind of monster.”

“Yet,” Renee muttered.

“
Yet
.” His forehead fell to hers as he came. She angled her head to suck on his lower lip, drinking in his shallow breath. He rubbed his hand on his shirt, then pulled it over his head. When he threw the garment into the truck, she could see the scratches on his back from her nails.

“I think you’ll enjoy tonight,” Grant said, closing his jeans. “I know I will. But for now, love, you’re just going to have to stay frustrated. It’ll make it better.”

Renee shrugged. A little arousal could make her squirm, but with so much stimulation around her, it was not on the top of her priority list. It was almost pleasant. Grounding.

“Hmmm,” he said, “if you’re able to shrug it away, maybe I haven’t done enough.” He kissed her again, quick and hard. Just the feel of his soft skin under her hands was enough to inspire a little more frustration. “At least you know that when I promise you’ll be more than satisfied, you know that I’m not lying.”

She knew he wasn’t.

* * * *

The event really was like a family reunion. Renee could not figure out what was so special about the night. It was not a full moon or a new moon, or any particular moon day that she could think of. It was almost one of the pagan holidays—Solstice, if Renee remembered correctly—but the people around her did not strike her as Neopagan. There was a barbecue. Someone had taken out a guitar and was strumming to something from the Seventies. They were in various stages of comfortable undress, the werewolves unconcerned about their bodies much as the shapeshifters at the sanctuary were. Renee only noticed it anymore because of all the years she’d spent in school—had it been eight years already since then?

The only things that stuck out in the midst of almost stunning normality were the werewolves in wolf form, who walked through the crowd like huge, hungry dogs. They were somehow more menacing in the dying light than in the darkness. They were like some facsimile of wolves, an alien attempt and failure to mimic something existent. As natural as an animal was supposed to be, the wolves looked too disconnected from their environment, as though the world around them knew that they did not belong.

Then there were the humans. There were only six others besides her. She could tell who the other recruit was by the way the werewolves seemed to stare as he passed by. They would give him wide berth. Renee wondered if it was because he smelt like prey, and they did not want to tempt themselves. Renee could not tell if they were treating her the same way. She stayed too close to Grant, and most of them avoided him as much as, if not more than, they were avoiding her.

The others, though, were handcuffed to a bike rack that had probably been pulled from the parking lot. Most of them were gagged with cloth, and one had a ball gag. There were four men and one woman. The youngest was the woman—she appeared to be in her late twenties. The men were anywhere between their early thirties and late fifties. It was not a demographic that Renee would have expected, neither easy prey nor particularly difficult prey, based on the appearances of the victims.

Renee did not like just standing by and saying nothing, but her survival instinct and her natural proclivity towards keeping her mouth shut kept her from doing anything about them. She counted around one hundred and ten werewolves around her. She could not hope to help the humans who were going to be eaten.

She was startled by her impotence. Usually, when she felt out of control, it was in regard to herself. She was not used to having control removed from her from an external source. It was part of the reason why Grant was such a strange anomaly, giving her control by taking it away. David and the werewolves around her, however, were not giving her freedom with their restrictions, and she did not like how small she felt behind Grant. Like a lost little girl in the big city right before nightfall. Not even the knife against her hip could provide her any comfort.
Maybe I need a silver grenade
, she thought wryly.

There were not many things in her experience that Renee would call odd—too much of her life was odd for her to have an average scale of oddity. Watching people laughing and barbecuing pork while gagged humans struggled against a bike rack in the middle of an open field… That was near the top of her list.

“There is someone you should meet,” Grant said. He led her behind a rusty pick-up to where some of the younger men and an older woman were lined up in front of a young woman. She was dealing cards on a small wooden table. She had beautiful, long, dark blonde hair, and her face was pale, almost colourless but for a touch of peach on her lips. Even her eyebrows and eyelashes were much lighter than her hair colour—almost invisible. Her eyes, though, were the most vivid green that Renee had ever seen.

As Renee watched what the woman was doing, she recognised tarot imagery on the cards. Rather than wanting to get closer, a wave of scepticism made her almost reel back. Grant turned around when he noticed that Renee was not still following him.

“Oh, she has her fun,” Grant explained quietly. “But when she puts away the trappings, she’s the real thing.”

“The real what?”

“She was handpicked by David. He turned her two years ago. She’s a witch,” Grant said.

Renee shook her head in confusion.

“Not the spiritual kind,” Grant said. “You said you didn’t believe in magic, in spite of all the shapeshifting around you. And me. I think you may just need a different kind of magic to convince you. Kelly will fucking blow your mind, the things she can do.”

“Are you saying she does
actual
magic?” Renee asked.

“I float things, turn them into other things, and also make julienne fries. And if you call now, you get this vibrating crystal for only five-ninety-nine.” Kelly had spoken up from her place behind the table.

When the people in the line saw Grant heading for them, they scattered, in a casual but intentional way. Not for the first time, something in Renee’s stomach turned. Maybe the fact that she seemed to be the only one who wasn’t afraid of him was actually a commentary on her sanity. Or her perception. Then again, Kelly was still sitting on her stool and absentmindedly shuffling the cards. She looked tired.

Grant took Renee’s shoulder and led her forward to meet Kelly. Now that she was closer, Renee could see that underneath the voluminous sleeves of her sheer robe—which was all that the woman had on—the entire lengths of her arms were tattooed. When the woman stood, she revealed that her legs were similarly inked. Even her sternum was tattooed with part of a black and white design. Renee could not determine what any of the designs were—it was as though she could only see a part of the art at a time, never its entirety.

The woman let Grant kiss her in greeting, but there was something in the tightness of her features that Renee could not place. Her shoulders were loose, not tense, around Grant, yet her expression was profoundly negative.

Kelly reached out to greet Renee. At first, Renee’s arm was heavy and tight against her side, the way it usually was when someone offered to shake. But then she slowly extended her arm and let Kelly clasp her hand. It was somehow easier to squeeze back once her hand was actually surrounded by someone else’s skin.

Kelly’s strange expression dissolved into something with which Renee was much more familiar—puzzlement.

“You’re…human,” Kelly said.

“So people tell me,” Renee replied.

Kelly smiled a little. “Sorry, I’m sure it’s quite obvious to you. But what the hell is a girl like you doing with a man like him?” She looked sidelong at Grant, who seemed unaffected by the continuous questioning of her—and his—judgement.

“So people ask me,” Renee said.

“No, wait, I get it,” Kelly murmured. Her eyes were piercing. Renee didn’t like it, and she found herself aggressively avoiding the woman’s gaze. “I get why someone like you might want to be around someone like him. So maybe I’m asking the wrong person.”

Kelly looked at Grant—she was around the same height as he was, but it still seemed as though she was looking up at him.

“So what was it, wolf?” Kelly asked levelly. “The quiet air of desperation, that no one could come to her rescue out there in those woods, or that she owns a shapeshifter sanctuary and you simply have an overdeveloped sense of irony?”

“You’re the mind reader. You tell me,” Grant said. His feet were shoulder-width apart, his arms crossed, but not defensively. He wasn’t threatened by Kelly’s interrogation. He was not threatened by her at all.

“If you wanted someone weak to control, there were much easier ways to get what you wanted.” Kelly narrowed her eyes. Peering into Grant, Renee realised. Into his mind. Grant hadn’t been exaggerating. “Nor, it seems, did you actually get it, if that’s what you were looking for. That’s interesting.”

Grant was unable to maintain eye contact, and he looked down at his feet. “No,” he said.

Kelly’s lips thinned a little. She beckoned to Renee and led her to sit down on the stool. “Your pills aren’t going to help you much in this kind of environment. Perhaps it’s best if you take this time to brace yourself. The darker it gets, the more they’re going to take from you.”

“Don’t suppose you have a vibrating crystal for that,” Renee said.

“I was kidding,” Kelly said. “Although I do have some crystals in the truck. They soothe me. I like the colours. No, mostly I just take a drink now and then. But since that doesn’t work for you…” When Renee twisted around at the suggestion of common experience, Kelly shook her head. “Nowhere near as bad as you. My difficulty being around other people comes from another problem.”

Kelly looked at Grant and said, “Go take a swipe at someone. You want a fight if you can’t have a fuck. You’ve heard all the stories I have to tell, and no one will come at her while I’m here.”

“What if you’re the one she has to worry about?” Grant asked.

Kelly gathered her hair into a ponytail and pulled it behind her shoulder. “You know better than that,” she said quietly.

Grant uncrossed his arms, uncharacteristically serious. “Yeah, I do.”

As Grant headed towards the denser part of the crowd, Kelly sat on the small table in front of Renee. Renee was surprised at how she did not feel anxious around this perfect stranger. But Kelly did not seem dangerous or threatening, although she was not without the quality that all the werewolves seemed to share. If anything, though, Kelly struck Renee as a little more human.

Kelly continued as though she hadn’t spoken with Grant. It took a moment for Renee to catch up with the conversation. “I hear what people are thinking, and sometimes they’re loud, obnoxious, alarming—even violent. There were times when I would go out and think that a man was going to kill his wife or that a woman was going to kill her boss. Just the passing thoughts would be loud enough that I couldn’t tell the difference between a brief fantasy and a legitimate plan. Then there were the things that would go flying across the room when I was too nervous—which got worse as the thoughts got louder. Lights would go out over my head. I would awaken from a trance where I had been drawing on walls—drawing things that were going to happen or words of prophecy that I had no memory of writing or even thinking. Then there were the times I’d have strong urges to make things. I’d spend a fortune on things at the grocery because I absolutely had to make some kind of potion right then. None of these were conducive to a normal lifestyle.