Animal Attraction Page 3

I dropped the bar and swore. I reached for it, and my hand seemed to swim through fog. No, please, don’t let me black out here, I prayed. I’ll be good. I’ll call my doctor and get a checkup right away.

  My prayers were answered by a knock on the window, right before the car door opened. I turned my head toward the sound and wasn’t altogether surprised to see the biker there, crouching down to put himself at eye level with me.

  “Stupid, stubborn fool.”

  I blinked. He didn’t sound much like a Good Samaritan. He sounded like my surly babysitter from last night.

  “You’re not driving in your condition. Scoot over.”

  Right. Driving was probably a bad idea. I nodded in agreement, and then my face fell toward the steering wheel. A masculine hand intervened, probably saving me from a nasty bruise. I was lifted and settled in the passenger seat, and the biker climbed in. “Here. Drink.”

  Something touched my lips. I drank obediently. The liquid was sweet and cool, balm to my parched throat. The bottle moved away and I protested. “Thirsty.”

  “Slow.” The masculine voice sounded stern. I heard the sound of paper ripping, and then my rescuer prompted me to eat. He didn’t need to tell me twice.

  “You’re taking pointless risks,” he said while I chewed and swallowed. “Come home. We can help you.”

  My mouth was full, so I couldn’t answer, but what could I say? All of a sudden everybody wanted me to be somewhere, but nobody bothered to give me a damn set of directions.

  The fog receded as the food and liquid hit my system, and I blinked until I could see the man behind my steering wheel clearly. His lips didn’t look like mine felt, but the size and shape and sound of his voice were a match for my late-night visitor.

  He was bigger than Zach, as well as older and tougher looking, but the cheekbones and the cast of his features showed a resemblance. He wore his black hair shorter, so I couldn’t tell if it curled. His expression was a lot harsher than Zach’s had been. He looked coldly furious, in fact, gray eyes glaring at me.

  I wondered what he’d look like if he smiled, and why I wanted to find out. He wasn’t that good a kisser. Okay, yes, he was.

  It struck me that he and Zach had something else in common. Neither of them wore any sort of aggravating scent. They were both refreshingly free of cologne, aftershave, or the chemical reek of fabric softener. Considering the harsh combination of strong smells that clung to the average person, the absence came as a relief.

  “Hi, David.” My voice sounded old and creaky and I grimaced.

  “Chandra.” He said my name as if he was biting the sound off. All things considered, it didn’t surprise me that he knew it.

  “Are you mad because I tried to hit you last night?”

  “No.” David passed the bottle back to me and I drank with greedy haste. “I’m mad because you’re going to get somebody killed. Probably yourself.”

  I finished the Gatorade and the rest of the bar and straightened up. “I skipped breakfast. It’s not a crime.” Although it was stupid. I wouldn’t let it happen again.

  I studied him and continued my mental comparison. Zach had the kind of polish that said private school and old money. If David had ever had any polish, life had long since worn it off. If I had to guess, I’d place him as ex-military.

  “Finished?”

  “No. Be patient. If you’d let me turn the light on last night, I could’ve looked all I wanted then.”

  “I meant, are you finished eating?” He gave me an unreadable look. What, he didn’t think I’d want an eyeful of the stranger I’d sort of spent the night with?

  “You’re more interesting than food.”

  A muscle in his jaw jumped, but he didn’t answer. Tension rose in the car and I realized he was really pissed off. My brain finally kicked into gear and it occurred to me that I didn’t have to stay in close proximity to a large, hostile male. I reached for the door handle, but David was faster. His hand covered mine and held the door shut. Déjà vu, I thought. It was like a replay of being in my car with Zach, and it annoyed me to be slower than both of them.

  “Let go.” I kept my voice steady and hoped I wasn’t still visibly trembling. I didn’t want to look weak.

  “Idiot.”

  “Stop calling me names.” I felt my eyes narrow as anger pulsed through me.

  He looked like he was swallowing glass as he ground out the word, “Sorry.”

  Anger evaporated as quickly as it had come. Maybe a soft answer really does turn away wrath.

  “Let’s start over. Hi, my name is Chandra. Strange people keep popping up and acting like I should know what’s going on. What the hell is going on?”

  For an answer, David let go of my door and turned on the ignition. “I’m taking you home.”

  Taking me where? Alarm clamored in the back of my head and adrenaline spiked, burning away the sugar in my system in the process. The gray fog returned and I cursed my weakness as I subsided into the passenger seat. “Is Zach there?”

  “Yes.” His jaw tightened as he stared straight ahead. “I’m taking you to Zach.”

  “Okay.” I had a few questions for Zach. David could save me the time and hassle of finding him. I closed my eyes, just for a minute. I opened them when the engine shut off, shocked to realize I had no idea how much time had passed or where we were. Something was really wrong with me.

  I heard booted footsteps on gravel before my door opened and then Zach was there, unbuckling my seat belt, scooping me up as if I were a child. David walked beside him and the three of us went up onto a covered porch and then inside a solarium filled with greenery, rich with the mingled scents of earth and growing things.

  The men were arguing. “I wanted her to come of her own free will,” Zach was saying.

  “You didn’t see her passing out at the wheel,” David snapped in response. “It’s too late for that.”

  Too late? I didn’t like the sound of that, but I didn’t seem to have the strength to speak up.

  The argument became impossible to follow then, because they stopped speaking English. The foreign syllables didn’t bother me. It meant I wasn’t distracted by the words and could concentrate on their voices. I liked the sound of them.

  “Chandra. Swallow this.” That was Zach, coaxing with an underlying tone of command.

  “Later,” I evaded. I didn’t want to be drugged, but I wasn’t in any state to fight about it.

  “Now.”

  One of them held me while the other poured something noxious into my mouth. I swallowed convulsively and then gasped as it burned all the way down. My eyes teared as I wheezed. “Water!”

  Zach gave me a glass, which meant David was the one holding me. I drank and sighed in relief as it cooled the fire in my esophagus. “What was that?”

  “Herbal tea. A family remedy.” Zach’s voice was calm, his face composed. “Are you feeling better now?”

  In fact, I was. The fog was gone and strength pulsed through me. With every heartbeat I felt more alert, more alive. A sense of almost euphoric well-being filled me.

  Something that felt this good this fast couldn’t be trusted. “Please tell me that wasn’t meth.”

  “No. Just wolfsbane.”

  Wolfsbane? My mouth opened and shut soundlessly a couple of times before I managed to say, “That’s poisonous.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  MY HEAD WAS NOW CLEAR ENOUGH TO PANIC. I WAS GOD ONLY KNEW where, in the hands of a man whose last name made his interests in silver and moon cycles suspicious to say the least. And he hadn’t hesitated to pour a known poison down my throat.

  “It has medicinal uses.” Zach frowned at me. “Foxglove is poisonous, too, unless you have a heart condition. Then digitalis can save your life.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t want a botany lecture. I want an antidote.” My voice rose in both pitch and volume. David’s hold on me tightened as if he thought I might be planning to lunge at Zach.

  “Easy.” David’s voice was l
ow and gruff behind me. “It helps with the transition, that’s all.”

  “Transition?” I practiced deep breathing and tried to calm down. Panic wouldn’t help me. I needed to think. Starting with paying attention to my surroundings.

  A look around told me we were still in the solarium. Now that I wasn’t fainting, the room took my breath away. Terra-cotta tile floor, trees and flowers in decorative pots and planters, deep-cushioned chairs and sofas scattered around in the sort of inviting casual arrangement that takes a professional to create.

  It was like sitting in a magazine spread. If this was Zach’s house, I’d been right. He did have money. I felt a twist of envy, not so much for his bank account but for this room. It was exactly what I’d want if money were no object.

  It was what I’d dreamed of. Last night.

  I blinked and turned my head, half-hoping I wouldn’t see blue tiles in a series that showed the phases of the moon making a staggered path along the floor. I did. My heart thudded and my skin prickled in recognition while my brain scrambled for a rational explanation.

  One came almost instantly and I clung to it in relief. I probably was sitting in a magazine spread. This was the kind of house that got featured in Architectural Digest and Better Homes and Gardens. Some time in the past, I’d seen a picture of this room, and the image had stuck in my head. Zach asking me if I dreamed of them had combined with the odd moon tiles to trigger last night’s episode.

  “Do you like it?” Zach asked. “I like to start the day in here.”

  I loved it. I coveted it. Out loud I said, “It’s nice. Unusual design on the tile.” Then I waited to see what he’d do with the opening I’d given him.

  He didn’t mention the moon motif. Instead, he stood up and extended a hand toward me. “Would you like to see the gardens? You’re dressed for it.”

  Sure, why not? I could have a nice tour of the grounds before I keeled over. Except I didn’t feel unwell. I felt like I could run a marathon. Had he lied about giving me wolfsbane?

  My jeans, fleece pullover, and cross-trainers were warm enough for the sunny day and comfortable for walking. I put my hand in Zach’s for an answer, and David let me go.

  It was an odd feeling, as if I’d been passed between them. Then again, I hadn’t exactly been invited over for lunch. They probably wanted to keep ahold of me in case I decided to bolt for my car. It might be awkward for Zach if I turned up at an emergency room claiming he’d given me a deadly dose.

  Zach’s grip was warm and strong. He led me through the solarium to the door that opened out into a garden that looked spectacular even in winter. A fountain decorated with stone figures stood in front of us. We took a gravel path that led around it. Zach’s stride was energetic, and I realized I had no trouble matching him. David kept pace behind us. We passed low benches, arbors, and what looked like an honest-to-God hedge maze, and then there was an open field ahead of us with woods on the far side.

  “Want to race?” Zach asked me, challenge gleaming in his amber eyes.

  “So the poison can go through my system and kill me faster?”

  “I didn’t poison you. Do you feel poisoned?”

  “No.” I didn’t want to admit it to either of them, but I hadn’t felt this good all month. Energy sang in my veins and my muscles quivered with the urge to move.

  “Run with us.” Zach dropped my hand and waited to see what I’d do. David came up to stand on my other side, so the three of us formed a loose starting line.

  I turned to look at David. He wanted me to run; I could see it in his face. He was almost smiling. If I had to describe his stance, I’d call it playfully competitive.

  It didn’t add up. They didn’t act like kidnappers or killers. They didn’t feel like a threat, either. That warning instinct that made my skin prickle from their proximity had shifted to a bubbling sense of eagerness to race between them.

  “Why did you bring me here?” I asked David.

  “You needed help.” He didn’t hesitate over the words, and his eyes met mine without blinking.

  “With the transition.” I repeated what he’d said in the solarium. He didn’t answer.

  I looked back at Zach. “Why did you say I should’ve expected you? Why did you think I’d know where to go when you told me to come to you?”

  “Well, for starters, we sent you a certified letter the day after your twenty-first birthday.” Zach frowned at me. “Somebody signed for it.”

  I blinked, thinking back over the past couple of weeks. I’d gotten a lot of mail, most of it thanking me for sending my résumé and promising to keep it on file should another opening come up. Bills. And the stuff that went straight into the trash, sweepstakes and free vacation offers that were anything but.

  A real, personal letter would’ve stood out. So it had gotten delivered to the wrong apartment, and that was probably what Michelle’s message was about.

  “I haven’t been myself since my birthday,” I said, figuring that was answer enough.

  “Oh, you’ve been yourself,” Zach said. “Just more yourself than you’re used to.”

  The two of them looked at each other over my head, and I hated the sense that they were on the same page when I didn’t even have the right book.

  “Then you weren’t refusing to come,” David said. “I thought you were being stubborn.”

  “It would be nice if somebody would just come out and say whatever you have to say. I take it this is about me being adopted?” I prompted.

  “Yes.” Zach reached out to touch my cheek. “The short version is, this is your family home. The longer version is that you have a rare genetic condition.”

  “Oh. Is that all.” I reeled inwardly. Good news: I might have visiting rights to that gorgeous solarium. Bad news: It meant my genes were plotting against me. “Am I dying?”

  “No.” Zach stepped closer, warm reassurance in his touch, concern in his eyes. “No, not at all. It’s just that the condition presents fully in adulthood.”

  “‘Presents,’ what the hell does that mean?” I heard the edge of panic in my voice, and didn’t care.

  “It means you’re like us.” David reached out to touch me, too, the three of us forming a circuit I could swear an electrical impulse flowed through. Touching them made me feel strong, connected, on the verge of some unknown potential. “Neuri.”

  “Werewolves.” I said it out loud and waited for one of them to laugh and tell me I’d been had.

  “Yes,” Zach said. “Would you like to race now?”

  I thought about my active night episodes I couldn’t remember the next day, my extreme sensitivity to sounds and smells in the past weeks, my roller-coaster metabolism. The allergy to silver I’d discovered on my first and last attempt at piercing. David’s claim that he’d heard me outside my apartment, impossible for human ears.

  “I would like you to prove it,” I said.

  Zach looked at David, who stepped away from us and started to strip silently. I decided there was no reason not to look if he insisted on showing off, so I watched as he discarded shirt, shoes, and then everything else. He wore boxer briefs and managed to make them look sexy. His chest and shoulders looked more powerful naked, muscles lean and sculpted, his belly hard, and flat, athletic legs. He had the kind of muscle development that came from use, not the kind built in the gym just for show.

  He would have kicked my ass in a race.

  I looked away when he peeled the briefs down his hips. I didn’t want to embarrass myself. Beside me, Zach stood focused and intent, and it wasn’t because he wanted to compare equipment. Command radiated from him and something else that made my skin prickle.

  Naked, David dropped into what looked like a sprinter’s crouch. I had to fight an almost overwhelming urge to join him, as if he was triggering some reflex. I made myself stay upright and kept still with an effort as an alien energy surged through my body, seeking an outlet it didn’t find.

  David’s spine rippled. Muscles and tendons
stretched, moved, the way my own seemed to want to move. Fur sprouted. And then somehow a huge black wolf looked up at me with David’s gray eyes.

  “Jesus.” I staggered and might have fallen over my own feet if Zach hadn’t caught my elbow in a supporting grip. “I frenched that?”

  “You what?” Zach pulled me closer, his eyes narrowed.

  I shrugged. “He broke into my apartment. We kissed. There was tongue involved.” A lot of tongue. Very involved.

  The wolf grinned. He padded toward me and I swear, he was planning on nuzzling my crotch. I blocked his muzzle with a swift raised knee, and the wolf’s jaw dropped in what looked like a silent laugh. He butted my hand, and I wove my fingers into the thick fur at the base of one ear. If seeing was believing, touching made it even more real. He felt warm, soft, alive. Then he took off, powerful legs flying over the field.

  Neuri. I shivered and wondered what it felt like. The buried remnant of a dream stirred, and I fell into a flash of memory. Running on four feet. Other wolves around me. The joy and sense of rightness in our unity, the sound of the triumphant round we sang together echoing in the night.

  “Am I going to change like that?” I asked Zach, my voice faint. I wondered if the alien impulse I’d fought while David changed was my own wolf trying to get out of a body that didn’t know how to let it.

  “Yes. Tomorrow night. But the closer it gets to the full moon, the closer you are to the transition and the worse your symptoms will feel.”

  I swallowed and nodded. Suddenly I didn’t feel like running. I wanted to sit down and put my head between my knees. I must’ve looked like I felt, because Zach made a low sound of concern and scooped me up in his arms. I didn’t object.

  “You should have more tea.”

  I nodded and then tentatively rested my head on his shoulder. I was turning into a werewolf. Drinking wolfsbane couldn’t make things any worse.

  I saw the others as Zach carried me back the way we’d come. Men ranging in age from about my own to late thirties, and every one of them eye-catching. It wasn’t just the very attractive way they were put together; it was the way they moved, the ripple of muscle and sinew, the confidence, that indefinable something that made women stare. Animal attraction, I thought, and resisted the urge to laugh.