Wolf Fever

Page 13

She considered Ryan, who was standing relaxed and casual with Marilee. The woman’s eyes flashed with intrigue. Her lips curved up in a smile. She might not be an alpha, but she had seduction down to an art. Hell, whatever he was saying to her, he’d sure got her number. She reached over and slid her hands over his shoulders. Instantly, Carol wanted to jerk her hands off him, as if he was hers. Where that unwelcome notion came from, she hadn’t a clue.
Marilee fluttered her long lashes.
Which was another of Carol’s shortcomings. Both of the women had thick, long lashes that fluttered beautifully. Carol’s were pale blonde and short. Even with mascara that claimed to make lashes longer and more noticeable, hers were not meant to flicker in a provocative way.
The woman was now looking adoringly into Ryan’s eyes, her tongue sweeping over her already shimmering lips, which were coated in dusky pink gloss. If the lout kissed her, the date was off.
Everyone seemed rabidly entranced with Ryan and Marilee’s actions. Some of the bachelors appeared annoyed, frowns creasing their temples, arms folded or hands shoved in pockets. Some seemed in awe as they watched Ryan, small smiles on their faces. Maybe making mental notes of what worked when attempting to get a woman’s attention?
“Let’s go to the tavern and get a drink, Mervin.” Carol had had enough of this fiasco. Even though she’d rather be anywhere with anyone else, at least Mervin had the guts to pursue her.
Mervin played with his bowtie and looked at Darien.
Oh, for heaven’s sake. Did he have to get permission from Darien?
She headed for the great room, figuring everyone was so intrigued with Ryan and his conquest that no one would notice she’d left. As soon as she exited the sunroom, Mervin hurried after her. “We can’t leave the gathering. Not without Darien’s permission.”
Grow some balls, she wanted to say. That was one thing she liked about Ryan. He stood up to Darien, no matter what the circumstances.
She strode through the great room toward the stairs.
Mervin hurried after her and roughly seized her arm. She clenched her teeth, her whole body taut with raw irritation.
Whipping around, she yanked her arm free. “Do not grab me like that again,” she growled low, unable to curb her anger. Partly at being accosted and partly because the masseuse was fawning over Ryan—and he seemed to like it. With Carol, he was strictly business. Psychic business, and what she could do with it, was his only interest in her.
As soon as the fury at being waylaid had washed over her, heat swept through her, and she cringed. Oh hell… not… the… change.
Chapter 7
RUSHING THROUGH THE GREAT ROOM, CAROL HURRIED off toward the stairs to her bedroom before she did the unthinkable—got naked and shape-shifted in front of Mervin. Heaven forbid! If he grabbed her again, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions.
“You can’t leave the gathering,” Mervin said, half angrily, half pleading as he stalked after her.
Without giving him a backward glance, she ran up the stairs two at a time, praying she’d make it to her room and could concentrate on stopping the shift before it caught hold. And that Mervin wouldn’t follow her.
As if instinct moved her, she tackled the buttons on her sweater before she reached the top of the stairs. Her heart was pounding so hard that the sound of Niagara Falls rushed in her ears, but at least Mervin must have paused at the foot of the stairs and didn’t follow her up them. She imagined if it had been Ryan, he wouldn’t have let her go. Then again, she didn’t think he would have accosted her the way Mervin had, triggering the damnable shift in the first place.
“Carol!” Lelandi called out from the great room.
Hell. Carol raced to her room, sweater unbuttoned, her fingers struggling to undo her belt. Now she knew why more of their kind didn’t wear accessories. Or blouses or sweaters with buttons, either.
She dove into her bedroom, slammed the door, and locked it.
Lelandi’s frenzied footsteps grew closer down the carpeted hallway, or at least Carol assumed that’s who was coming after her.
Carol squeezed her eyes shut and stood still, hoping her second sight wouldn’t fail her now. Anything that would thwart shifting.
“Carol?” Lelandi tapped lightly on the door, her voice soothing.
She tried to ignore Lelandi’s entreaty, the heat still coursing through every muscle, through every vein.
“Carol, open up so we can talk.” This time Lelandi used a little more force in her words. A command, not a suggestion.
Go away, Carol wanted to shout. She had to concentrate.
“Did Mervin upset you? Darien wants to know. And Mervin’s going to be ostracized from the whole pack if he did.”
“No, Lelandi, I’m fine. Just… I’ll be down in a second.” Gritting her teeth, she stripped down to her bra and panties.
Then the room blurred into oblivion as a window into the future filled her mind.
“Come in, Carol,” Lelandi said, her voice tinged with dread as she hurriedly motioned for Carol to enter her bedroom. Lelandi wrung her hands as she watched Darien in his wolf form pace back and forth. “What’s happening? I don’t understand what’s happening. How can we stop this?” Her green eyes turned to Carol, and tears filled them. “He can’t change back.”
Darien. First the doc, now their pack leader? But what could Carol do? What could she ever do in a situation initially conjured up in her mind’s eye? It was too late for Darien. Too late for the doc.
“Carol, you have to do something!” Lelandi pleaded, her voice strained, choked with emotion.
The feelings of inadequacy swamped Carol, as they often did when she had no control over future events. The fear of what could happen to her increased her resolve never to shift.
The door lock clicked open, instantly shattering Carol’s vision. Lelandi had to have used a hairpin to unlock the bedroom door, damn it.
Her lips parted, Lelandi stared at Carol wearing only her peach lace bra and panties. “Oh, Carol.” She quickly shut the door as more footsteps tromped their way down the hall. “Don’t fight the change. It’ll only make things worse.”
How did Lelandi know?
A knock sounded, heavier, more masculine.
“We’re all right,” Lelandi called out in her most assertive way.
“Did Mervin upset Carol? I’ve got an outsider gray who’s ready to tear him apart, not that I sure as hell won’t take Mervin to task,” Darien growled through the door.
Lelandi raised her brows at Carol.
She shook her head. “No.” Although she thought Mervin’s grabbing her arm had resulted in the urge to change, he really hadn’t done anything to her to warrant all the fuss. Oh hell, she had to find a way to control the compulsion to shift in case something like this happened again.
“Are you certain?” Darien asked, his control slipping.
Lelandi studied Carol, but she shook her head and frowned again.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she whispered.
Lelandi didn’t look like she believed her. “I’ll speak to you later, honey,” Lelandi said to Darien, “but she says no.”
“All right. But I want her returned to the party posthaste.” Darien stomped off.
Carol was sure he didn’t believe her, either.
“What happened to trigger the need to shift?” Lelandi asked in a soothing way, as if Carol was fragile and would break if Lelandi wasn’t gentle.
Carol clenched her teeth. If there was one thing she wasn’t—fragile was it. “I wasn’t getting ready to shape-shift.” She went to her closet and yanked out a sparkling peach dress with a low neckline and a gored skirt that caressed her legs when she walked. She slipped it on. “I just didn’t feel dressy enough.”
Lelandi gave her a slight smile. “The other women are not any real competition, you know. The men are much more intrigued with you, especially after you played so aggressively on the field this afternoon. And taking Darien’s ribbon?” Lelandi gave a bright laugh. “They loved it.”
“Everyone was shocked into silence.”
“Well, all right. At first, sure. But once they saw how good-naturedly Darien took it, they loved how you stood up to him. No one would have dared. Although Silva does from time to time. As to the men, they still don’t know about the other women. You’re more of a known commodity.”
“They don’t like it that I haven’t shifted.” Suddenly a thought occurred to Carol. Why couldn’t she just pretend that she had shifted when she was alone? Then they’d quit worrying about her. “Not that I haven’t shifted when no one is around to see it.”
Lelandi tilted her head to the side and gave her a look that said: Get real. “I know you haven’t shifted. If Darien learns you were having trouble with it tonight, he’ll want to know what brought it about and how you managed to stop it.”
Carol was dying to know how Lelandi suspected she had never shifted. Must have been a werewolf thing. She zipped the low-cut back of her dress and slipped into a pair of slinky heels, still feeling underdressed but like she was on a manhunt.
“I love the dress, Carol. You should wear clothes like that more often.”
“I bought it to go to a party held by one of the student nurses in one of my biology classes. Sat like a wallflower during the whole affair when I discovered the male medical staff in attendance had significant others, who were not at the party, but were looking for some extra nighttime entertainment. I didn’t have a ride home or money to call a cab, so I stuck it out.
“But I loved the color.” She ran her hand over the silky fabric. And the cut looked good on her, so she hadn’t had the heart to get rid of the dress. Now she felt way overexposed for the current event, like she was trying to prove something to the other women or to the men, when she had no intention of doing so.
“Are you going to be all right?” Lelandi asked, as Carol disappeared into the adjoining bathroom.