My face fell and I lowered my voice to a soft whisper. "You don't have to tell me this if it's that tough," I told him.
He sighed and dropped his hand into his lap. "It's almost a relief to tell someone after so long keeping it inside of me. It drops some of the weight of loneliness off my shoulders, if you'll pardon the cliched phrase."
I smiled. "I'll forgive you this one time."
His lips twitched up before they fell back down. "Well, we made camp and set off in groups of two for fresh water and food. Those days the Caribbean was a giant food basket to sailors. There were turtles, fruit trees, and wild pigs, the bounty of a tropical paradise. I and another fellow about my age, I'm afraid I've forgotten his name, we went into the interior in search of a spring. The jungle was strangely devoid of the call of birds and a dread hung over us. Maybe it was our natural instincts warning us, but we were both young lads and didn't heed its call. We found a bubbling spring among some rocks and filled our flasks. Before we were finished the fellow grabbed my sleeve and gave a pull. 'Did you hear that?' he asked me. I told him I hadn't heard anything, but it was probably a wild pig scrounging around. He said it didn't sound like a pig. It sounded like a soft pad of something along the jungle ground. I told him he was being a scared fool, but by this time his words and the atmosphere had spooked me enough I suggested we return to the ship. We had just turned away from the spring when a shadow leapt from the jungle. I jumped out of the way, but slipped on some rocks. The thing dove at my companion and latched its long fangs onto his arm. I fell hard on my side, but turned over at the other man's screaming. In front of me, hunched over my companion, was a giant wolf. It's eyes were a bright yellow, much like mine when I need to see in the dark."
I shuddered at the remembrance of his eye color. "Yeah, I noticed that."
"My companion was still alive, but the creature had every intention of killing him. I grabbed a rock and threw it at its head. It connected just above the brow, and the wolf turned to me and snarled. I scuttled to my feet and raced across the rocks toward the path we'd taken to the spring. The wolf must have thought I was a more worthy challenge and followed after me. I raced through the jungle as fast as I could run, but the creature overtook me. It jumped on my back and pushed me to the ground. My face slammed into the rotting foliage and sand of the island ground, and the wolf buried its fangs into my shoulder." He paused and pulled his shirt over his head. Any other normal time and I would have been thrilled with this circumstance, but on his right shoulder was a large patch of scar tissue. The flesh was a softer pink than any other part of his body, and here and there I detected teeth marks. "Another few inches and it would have tore into my neck veins, but it wanted sport. I jabbed my other arm into his face and it rolled off me. I rolled over and grabbed the pistol from my pocket. It was a weapon of extraordinary make with a silver handle and a sturdy barrel. I pointed the barrel at the beast., and it growled and jumped at me. I fired a shot, but it only seemed to anger the thing. It no longer wanted to toy with me, but kill me. I swung the grip against the creature's face and it was as though I'd placed a scalding slip of metal against its flesh. It burned its fur and skin, and the creature screamed and stumbled back. The scream was more man than wolf, and I still shudder whenever I recall that hideous sound."
"So it was the werewolf that bit you?" I guessed.
He nodded. "Yes. The creature ran back toward the spring, and the sound of my shot brought my companions from the ship. They took me to the ship and scoured the area for both the wolf and my mate, but both were gone. There was only a blood spot near the spring where the wolf had attacked my companion. It didn't take long for the superstitious sailors to speak of a loup garou, and call for the captain to set sail and leave that accursed island. Even he admitted, privately to me and after we had sailed, that there was something not right about that island. We left the island without finding my companion and returned to Boston. The trip took a week and I was delirious with fever the entire time." He chuckled. "My mother nursed me back to health on a diet of bitter roots and peppermint candy. I was well within a week, but a week later I learned the true damage the wolf had done to me."
"A full moon," I whispered.
He turned away and sighed. "Yes, the full moon."
I furrowed my brow. "But it wasn't a full moon tonight. Heck, I couldn't even see any stars with all that rain."
"The loup garou, or werewolf, doesn't need the full moon to change except the first moon after they've been marked by the curse," he explained. "On that first full moon I was making jolly in one of the pubs when the sun set and I felt a fever return. Fearing it was the illness I hurried home, but the moon overtook me. I was in a near-deserted part of the town when I changed, and then I. . .I hunted."
"Like the other loup garou had done," I finished for him.
"Precisely. I awoke the next day covered in blood and with news of a monster prowling the town. I told my father and mother what I had become, but they didn't believe me." He scoffed and ran a hand through his hair. "I could hardly believe it myself. Who would want to believe they were a werewolf? My wish was overcome by my desire to be sure, and during that next month I went about ensuring the safety of everyone in the town by creating a jail of sorts with iron fetters and chains. When the full moon came I sealed myself in this cage of sorts deep in the woods and waited for the curse."
"So you changed and stayed put?" I guessed.
He chuckled and shook his head. "No. I didn't change at all. Nothing happened. I awoke the early next morning in my crude hut with sore wrists and confusion. It was then I decided to put my head to better use and research this beast. My father had an extensive library, a very rare thing in that time, and I found what I sought amongst his books on creatures of folklore. The loup garou was a rare werewolf in that it could change its shape at will, and it was then I realized I could control the beast. I was elated. This wasn't a curse at all. I could change into a wolf, to be sure, but what strength I had! What speed I could achieve in that form! I returned to my hut and willed myself to change. It took great effort and time, but I learned to change myself. I took to exploring the woods and glens in that form, and became acquainted with the fur trade through my keen nose. I expanded my father's trade into furs and the family fortune grew. I married, and no one knew my secret, not even my wife, lovely creature that she was."
"I'm guessing this doesn't have a happily-ever-after end," I mused.
He leaned back and contemplated the crackling fire. The flames cast shadows on his youthful face, but I detected a great age in those lines. "At age fifty I realized I wasn't aging. My wife and family also realized something was wrong. They shunned me, and the town with them. I was sent away, my father said to manage the fur trade in the west, but I knew better. I frightened them. After a year they stopped answering my letters, and one day I decided to travel east to Boston. I found the place greatly expanded and avoided those who knew me. I reached my house and found my wife deep in mourning. I was dead."
I scrutinized his appearance. "You look really good for a dead man," I commented.
He smiled. "Yes, I believe my servants thought the same. They'd been told I was dead, and when I arrived they screamed and ran from the residence. My wife was less surprised. My family and she had agreed to the deceit to hide my unnaturalness. She begged me to leave and never return. We had no children, so at her bidding I left. I traveled westward and became a trapper. I was very good at it and built up a small nest egg. I invested in mining and became nearly as rich as my father." His smile slipped from his lips. "The years passed and one-by-one my family fell to age and illness. I stopped paying attention to them when my mother passed away around 1830. I gathered my wealth, invested the majority, and stuck myself in any hole near civilization that I thought would be safe. More time passed and I found the cabin across the way for sale, and took it. The rest of my life, you know."
Chapter 11
I sat there for a moment in silence, a rare thing for me
, and contemplated his story. It was all so fantastic, so ridiculous, and yet so sincere. He believed it, and since I'd seen him as a wolf I really had no other choice. "So you've been alone all these years? You never met anyone else like you?"
He sheepishly grinned at me. "I did give that impression, didn't I? The truth of the matter is I met a few others like myself, and some were my companions for a while and others were-well, not so friendly," he admitted.
The intrepid reporter in me made herself known. "So do you ever get sick?" I wondered.
He stood and shook his head. "No, but I believe that's enough questions for the moment. You need to change your clothes and get a bandage around that wound before the mud festers inside it."
"Do you have super hearing, too?"
He knelt in front of me and gently grasped my wounded, pulsing leg in his hands. "This will need a lot of cleaning."
"How high can you jump?"
"Fortunately the bear didn't get to the bone."
"Have you ever eaten someone?"
"You're fidgeting."
"And you're not answering my questions."
"You need to focus on yourself." He emphasized his words by brushing aside some of the blood over my wound. I winced when a stab of pain shot up my arm.
"How is it, doc?" I asked him.
He pursed his lips together. "You may need antibiotics to repel infection."
"With all your wealth you don't happen to own a pharmaceutical company?" I wondered.
"I have stocks in several, but they don't give free samples to their stock owners. Do you have any bandages and disinfectant?" he asked me.
I nodded toward the bathroom. "In there."
He fetched the needed supplies, and in a few moments he had the leg wrapped tight in clean bandages. His eyes fell on my clothing and I noticed his lips twitched. "You should change out of those clothes or a cold will be the death of you."
I nodded at his own soaked clothes, or what remained of them. "You're not exactly dry, either."
He smirked and folded his arms over his chest. "My immortality not only keeps me from aging, but common diseases don't often-achoo!" He winced and rubbed his nose. "Though perhaps a change of clothes would be the best. Did you need any help getting to your bedroom?"
I swung my legs over the side of the couch and tested my weight on them. There was pain, but it held me. "I think I can manage."
"All right. I'll hurry to my home and back." He stood and strode over to the door, but paused on the threshold and turned back to me. "That is, if you want my company after everything you've learned."
I shrugged, but a teasing smile slipped onto my face. "Well, I could use a good fur coat to keep me warm. This uninsulated house gets pretty cold."
He chuckled. "I'll see what I can do when I get back."
The minute Adam stepped outside my brain started screaming at me. There was a lot of 'what are you thinking?' and 'he's going to eat you!' rushing through my head. "Hush, you," I scolded myself. "If he wanted to eat you he would've done it a while ago. Besides, he has that sad story-"
'That's what he wants you to believe! He probably ate the person who's story that belonged to!'
"His breath isn't bad enough to show he has a lean diet of humans, and I'm a little too fatty to eat," I argued.
'Maybe he likes chewy fat!'
"Will you shut up!" I shouted.
The noise echoed through the cabin and someone cleared their throat. I looked to the front door and saw Adam had returned attired in clean clothes. I'd been arguing with myself longing than I thought, or he was just that fast. Or both. I sheepishly smiled at him. "I was-um-just talking to myself."
Adam closed the door behind him and walked over to the couch. "You seem to have an internal dilemma," he commented.
I nervously snickered. "Yeah. Suddenly your problems don't look so bad, eh?" I teased.
He took a seat in the chair close to the fire. "This argument wouldn't happen to be about me, would it?"
"Um, yes," I admitted.
"And what did you decide?"
"That my brain needs to shut up."
He laughed. It was the first time I'd heard him truly laugh. I liked the sound of his ringing amusement as it bounced off the thin walls of the cabin. "You are a very strange woman. Most humans would have run out of here to the nearest non-werewolf neighbor or gone mad after seeing my transformation, but you sit here having a discussion with your mind and telling it to shut up."
I shrugged. "I guess my mom taught me to listen to my heart and not my brain. I wouldn't have bought this place to begin with if I'd listened to my mind."
He scooted to the end of his chair and clasped his hands in his lap. His unnervingly bright eyes stared unblinkingly at me. "What does your mind tell you about me?"
"It's telling me to run screaming from the house," I told him.
He leaned toward me and smiled. His top canine teeth slipped over his bottom lip and glistened in the firelight. "Maybe you should be frightened of me."
I leaned away and frowned. "If you go back on your word about being dangerous I swear to god I'll find my mother's silver fork heirloom in one of these boxes and tickle you to death with it."
Adam chuckled and moved to the back of his chair. "I'm glad to hear you say that. I don't want you to be frightened of me."
I buried myself deeper into the couch cushions. "So what now? I know you're secret, you know my heirloom secret, so where do we go from here?"
He raised an eyebrow and grinned. "There is the bedroom."
I rolled my eyes and slumped in my seat. "Just like a man to be a wolf in sheep's clothing. Anyone, we just met and this human female doesn't put out like a horny werewolf boy."
Adam sighed and leaned back in his seat. He set his elbow on the chair and set his head in his splayed fingers. "That is the biggest conundrum, isn't it? What to do with each other now that we both know what I am."
A devilish grin slid onto my lips. "Well, you could give me the best one-on-one interview ever. It would be the big werewolf reveal," I pointed out.
He chuckled. "I'm afraid I'd demand you file your essay under the fiction category."
I rubbed my chin and furrowed my brow. "You know, that does give me an idea. I've always wanted to write a book. I could write your life story and say it came from my imagination."
Adam lifted his head from his fingers and raised an eyebrow. "My life story as fiction?"
I shrugged. "Life is stranger than fiction, so it'd make a hell of a book, and you did say you wanted to get the story off your chest. Writing a whole book about it would definitely get it off every inch of you."
He chuckled and shrugged. "Why not? I've never tried being a writer. Is it easy?"
"If you know how to b.s.," I told him.
"I'll rely on you finding the necessary manure."
"For a cut of the profits, of course."
"Of course."
"Good, then we have ourselves a deal."
"This doesn't replace our other, more important deal," he reminded me.
I blinked at him. "What deal?"
"The deal to feed me in exchange for repairs. Actually, I may demand you feed me while I tell you the details of my life," he explained.
I snorted. "I think I can live with that if you can live with my cooking." I shifted my weight and winced when my leg complained. "But before we get to writing down your biography there's also my get-out-of-welcome-party-free card here I have to worry about. I'd like to avoid being called Stumpy for the rest of my life."
He chuckled. "You'll be fine, and I'll drive you to the doctor myself tomorrow bright and early."
I cringed. "Not too early. I've had a hell of a night. Learning that loup garous are real really takes it out of a girl."
He stood and moved to stand before me. "Would you like me to carry you to your bedroom?"
I scowled at him. "No, I would-not!" He scooped me into his arms and swept me into my bedroom. With as much grace as a foo
tball player carrying an egg he dropped me onto the bouncy mattress.
I sat up and glared at him. "Will you stop that!"
He smiled down at me. "Not until you're well. If you need me I'll be on the couch."
I threw a pillow at him, but he made it to the entrance and it bounced off the door just as he shut it. "And stay out of my bedroom!" I yelled. The evil sound of laughter floated away from the bedroom door.
I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest. "Damn him for being such a damn babysitter guy," I grumbled.
I went over to my dresser and pulled out my pajamas. As I started to peel off what remained of my carved jeans, my eyes settled on a mirror above the dresser. My reflection stared back at me in all its soaked-white-shirt-is-now-transparent glory. My mouth dropped open and I understood now why he had averted his eyes from my chest. I whipped my head to the closed door. "Why didn't you tell me about my shirt?" I shouted.
"You insisted on hearing my story, now get some rest," he called back.
I yanked my clothes on and stomped over to the bed until my leg reminded me there would be no stomping for a few days. I finished the distance from the dresser to the bed with a limp and lay down for a well-deserved rest. My dreams were filled with pattering rain, howling wolves and gnashing bears. Oh my.
Falling For A Wolf #2
Chapter 1
The next morning dawned as only an unwelcome morning could dawn: with the rays of the sun streaming through the window and forcing their way through my eyelids and into my eyes. I creaked open my useless eyelids and sat up. Morning already, and what a wild dream. First I'd been attacked by a bear and then I'd. . .been. . .why was there a bandage around my leg?
My eyes widened and my dream suddenly turned into reality. I wish it'd been a dream about winning a million dollars, but having werewolves be real was definitely an impressive feat. I flung aside my sheets and limped over to the closed bedroom door. All was quiet beyond the wood, but I pressed my ear against the entrance and listened. Nothing but the soft sound of air through something. I rolled my eyes at Adam's snoring and flung open the door.