Wolf's Soul (6 page)

If he scared Marisol, she was good in hiding her fear. She was one tough cookie he"d give her that. He hoped she wouldn"t crumble when it was time to face Atos. The bastard had been planning her death since he discovered who her father was. Tough shit. Atos would have to go through him to get to Marisol. Even if it cost him his last life.

55

I gave you my promise, Mark. I won’t let Atos touch your daughter.

Sadness from a loss of a dear friend was a blow in the gut no one could block. Taking a deep breath, he looked around Doctor Mark Saint James"s clinic.

The room looked the same as it was before. Anatomical and physiological charts of different animals posted on the walls. Open storage spaces with buckets, medicinal tools, books and stacks of rags were still there. He noticed a towel stained with blood on the floor. It was what Marisol used to drag him in here.

Someday, he"d find a way to thank her for saving his life.

He walked toward the small sink, turned on the faucet to cold and splashed water on his face. The water felt good, but nothing compared to the awesome feeling of having Marisol pinned beneath him. Damn, he couldn"t believe he tackled her in bed. Callum braced his arms on the sink and closed his eyes.

When Marisol walked into the room, he pretended to be asleep. Through half closed eyes, he watched her stare at him with shock and admiration. Her perusal, as if admiring something she"d never seen before, began to take effect on him. When he grabbed her waist and rolled her on the bed, his intention was to stop her from talking his ears off. But the moment he felt her softness, inhaled her sweet vanilla scent, he lost control of his body. He reacted like a teenage boy loaded with hormones. For a moment, he forgot where he was and the pain deep 56

inside his shoulder. All he could think about was to spread her thighs apart and feel her heat, kiss her plump wet lips, and suck her breasts.

Without a doubt, Marisol was one hot human. On top of her soft Barbie doll shape body and a fascinating character, man, she had a genial mouth and sparkling green eyes heavy with thick long lashes. He could just stare at her and never get tired of it. He bet it would be fantastic to have her ride him while her dark hair hung down like waterfalls. Callum felt himself stirred. Shit, he couldn"t ever remember a woman asking him to get off of her. Marisol was the first and he was glad that she asked him to. Who knew what he could have done next. Damn him, he enjoyed that few minutes of being so close to her.

Thinking about her soft flesh and round breasts, his dick began to throbbed and thickened.
Come on, Callum. Think about something else. This is not the right time to be
fucking horny.
He opened his eyes and looked in the mirror. A horrible face with dark rings around his eyes stared back at him.
I look like shit.
Well, what did he expect? Only hours ago, he was battling death. Anyone who went through that ordeal would definitely look like he"d gone to hell and back. Callum ran his fingers on his cheeks and jaws. He needed a shower, a shave, and damn, he needed food.

He"s fucking starving.

“Callum?”

“Yeah?”

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“I just want to know if everything"s all right.”

“Yes. It"s cool.” He pushed off from the sink and suddenly felt light headed.

“Son of a bitch.” His physical and mental strength were sapped. Fuck. He couldn"t believe he faced death so close he could smell its fucking acrid smell. Well, he lived and now he must face life and be happy about it. Marisol said there were clothes in the closet. He"d borrow a shirt and pants and hopefully he could return them in good condition.

Inside the closet, he found Mark"s plain white shirt and faded Levi"s jeans.

The hems were torn. Must be too long for Mark and dragged them on the ground.

Callum put on the clothes. They were snug on him, but beggars couldn"t be choosers. Now if he could just find a pair of shoes, he"d be good to face the beautiful siren who taunted his dreams every freaking night. Callum grinned.

What if he went out there as a wolf? He bet he"d blow Marisol"s mind. She"d probably talk to herself until she was breathless. What a beautiful chatterbox.

Mark wasn"t kidding when he said his daughter possessed a knockout beauty. He should have mentioned her deadly charms. Any man who"d looked into her dark green eyes would definitely feel instant attraction. As a wolf, he suffered from watching her straddle the pottery wheel with her long legs, her wet hands moving slowly and gently down the clay ball to form a cone. Man, it was so erotic 58

he had to run for miles just to get the image out of his mind. Asleep, he dreamed about her almost every night—naked, on all fours…

Stop brain. You’re not here, Callum, to drool over Marisol but to protect her and get a
hold of Youven’s sword.

Fuck! Why did he have to be the one in charge of taking her sword?

59

Oh, Lord. Marisol sucked in her breath and held it until she thought her chest would explode. Naked, Callum looked perfectly sculpted and magnificent.

Clothed, he looked like a yummy cinnamon bun fresh out of the oven with melting glaze she wanted to lick. How could someone be that gorgeous, sexy and look dangerous at the same time? Dang, he had a body made only for the gods. She recognized the shirt and pants he wore. Sighing, she remembered they were a bit loose on her dad, but to Callum the shirt and jeans were as tight as a tick on a dog"s ear. Tall, lithe, suntanned and drool-worthy. What a package. Man, she wanted to take a bite of that… Marisol stopped from her musing when Callum grinned showing his perfectly white teeth. God, he did it again. Grinning as if she just told him what she had in mind. Holding the baseball bat behind her as a precaution, she lifted her chin a fraction to see his eyes better. “Glad you found something that fits you.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Sweet caramel. Finally, a thong-dropping ruggedly looking hunk came to her barn. But why did he have to be a naked stranger and not the usual tourist 60

asking for a direction or something? “You can use the phone to call a ride.”
Wish you
don’t have to leave, but yummy or not you’re still a stranger. And Dad told me not to talk to
strangers.

I can stay.

“Of course you can…not stay.” Marisol leaned forward. “Did you say something?”

Yes. I said I can stay.

“Oh my god! You"re a…” she snapped her fingers repeatedly trying to remember the right word she wanted to say. “I got it! You"re a ventriloquist.”

Callum laughed. The sound was deep, warm, and rich. “I never thought of myself as one but it"s never too late to learn. No Marisol. I am not a ventriloquist.”

“Right. Of course you"re not. Ventriloquists can"t hear thoughts and for a minute there I thought you heard my thoughts. Nobody can do that. Thoughts won"t be called thoughts if—”

“Mari.”

“Hm? Did you just say my name? I swear heard you say Mari.”

“You heard me.”

“But you didn"t say my name. Okay, you are freaking me out. I think it"s time for you to leave.”

“But don"t you want me to stay?”

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“Yes. No! Oh god, did I say that out loud? I did, didn"t I? Yes, of course. It explains how you know what I"m thinking. It"s a habit, you know. Talking to myself out loud.” Marisol took one big step back.

“No,” his mouth twitched with amusement.

“Yes, I tell you. It"s my habit.” Was he making fun of her?

“I meant no to the saying out loud part.”

“Oh. Okay. You"re not a ventriloquist but a mind reader. Or whatever.”

Perhaps a handsome twat.

“A mind reader but definitely not a twat. Twat. Man, it"s been a long time since I heard that word. Twat,” he repeated.

The shock hit her full force. The man could hear her thoughts. Marisol merely stared, tongue-tied. When she finally recovered, she gripped her bat tight.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Callum Dyrdek.”

“That"s what you said. What I want to know is
what
are you? And what kind of shit are you pulling here, Dyrdek? You"re reading my thoughts! That"s freaking nasty.”

“You"ll be able to read mine if you put your mind to it. And with practice, you can block private thoughts. It"s handy and not at all that nasty.”

“How did you know that I"ll be able to read your mind?”

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“Because you"re able to hear me.”

“Are you implying that I"m a freak like you?”

“No. Hearing someone"s thoughts is at talent. Not very many can do that.”

Legs apart, a warrior stance her father showed her to intimidate people especially men, Marisol held the bat in front of her the way she would her sword—

with both hands on the handle and the tip pointing at Callum"s heart. If this man were smart, he"d see that she was ready to fight. “I don"t like what you"re telling me and I don"t like the idea that people could hear my thoughts. Nobody can read thoughts. That"s, that"s…insane. You need to leave.”

“Not everybody can hear you, Marisol.”

“Leave.”

“We need to talk.”

“Ha! Tough luck, mister. I don"t talk to strangers.” The beginning of a smile tipped the corners of his mouth. Did he find her amusing? “You"re beginning to irritate me with that slow smile of yours. Nothing"s funny about not talking to strangers.”

“I didn"t say it"s funny.”

“You"re laughing at me.”

“I"m not.”

“Then what do you call that?” she pointed at his lips. “A smirk?”

63

Callum just shrugged his wide shoulders.

“Leave. Don"t think I don"t know how to swing a bat. I"m deadly when armed with a bat.”

“And a sword.”

Callum said the words matter of factly her hand shook a bit. “What sword?”

“
The
sword. The one that you"ve been practicing with.”

“How did you know about my sword? Have you been watching me?”
Oh god,
please don’t tell me he’s a stalker. Only celebrities’ get stalked not a potter.
Marisol realized Callum heard her thought again when his eyebrows shot up. “Stop reading my thoughts! That"s wrong. Like watching somebody use the toilet or getting dressed or—just stop it.”

“Put the bat down. We really need to talk, Marisol.”

“Didn"t you hear me? I don"t talk to strangers. Especially weird freaky ones.”

“Just give me a minute.”

“Why? Give me one reason why I should.”

“I know Doctor Mark Saint James.”

“So? A lot of people knew my father. Including animals. That"s not a good enough reason, Callum.”

“What if I tell you I know who killed him? Would that be enough for you?

Or maybe I should tell you how he died.”

64

“Why? Because you killed him!”Marisol attacked. She pivoted and swung the bat with a purpose of hitting him on the side.

Callum took a step back avoiding the blow. “Listen to me. I know things. Do things you would call magical. ”

“Magical my ass!” Marisol feigned an attack. She twisted at the last minute and stabbed him in the gut. But Callum was fast. He moved to the side. The bat just nipped his side.

Stepping back, she repositioned herself. She circled Callum, a strategy she knew well. To buy some time, to think. She twirled the bat like a baton. It was a scare tactic. And then while holding its grip as tight as she could, she pointed the tip again at Callum"s heart. This time with hopes of intimidating him. “You know things. Could do magic? What are you? A Harry Potter fan?”

“Better actually.”

“You"re insane.”
Insane!
It dawned on her that he must be an escapee from asylum.

“I am not insane, Marisol. I know your father.”

“This is your last chance. Leave or I"ll call Sheriff Davis back here.”

“Come on. Just give me a chance to talk. All I ask is a few minutes of your time and—”

“How did you know my father?”

65

“Dinner. Can we talk about this while having dinner? I haven"t eaten—”

“Dinner?” Marisol surged forward with an intention to incapacitate him. She missed her mark, which was his groin.
Damn, he’s fast.
“Would you like a case of beer with your dinner while you talk about my dead parent? You asshole!”

“Beer sounds good.”

“Cabbage head. You just blew your chance of leaving here in one piece.

You"re a dead meat. Say your god damn prayers.”

“Cabagge—”

She faked a stabbing motion. When Callum turned to avoid the tip, she changed her move and tried to slice him as if the bat was her sword. This time she connected with his ribs.

“Oww! Damn it, woman! That hurts.”

“Oh, you think so. Take this!” She swung upward. A sickening sound of wood hitting a bone echoed in the spacious barn.

“Fuck!” Callum grabbed his right elbow as he backed off.

Marisol smiled and raised a brow. She took advantage of the situation and thrusts the bat to hit him below the beltline but Callum grabbed the tip and pulled it hard. Unprepared for that move, Marisol jerked forward and landed on his chest.

“Baby, you don"t want to piss me off.”

66

Callum"s mouth was inches away from hers. She could smell his breath.

Mint. He must have had something with mint in it.
Concentrate Marisol. You’re in the
middle of a fight.
Smiling, she roamed her gaze on his face before staring at his firm and sensual lips. She cupped the back of his neck pulling his head down closer until her lips grazed his then whispered, “I"ll do more than piss you off, jerk.” She kneed him in the groin.