As everyone started to get up, I took my time, trying to think of something clever to say to Connor. I felt a tug on my braid and looked over at Daniel.
He smiled at me. "You're one tough Dark Guardian."
"Thanks."
I didn't have to look to know that Connor had moved on. I strongly felt his absence. I was a mess: hopeful one moment, facing reality the next. Sooner or later a situation might arrive in which I would have to shift. What would Connor think of me and my deception then? Was I simply delaying his inevitable disgust? If he fell in love with me, would he forgive me? Or would he simply hate me all the more?
Lucas called Daniel over to where he, Connor, and Rafe were talking. I figured he was about to send them out on patrol.
"Maybe we can catch up later," Daniel said.
I nodded. "Yeah, sure."
After he walked off, it occurred to me that I needed to introduce him to one of the novices or something. He was new to our area and he needed to expand his circle of friends to more than just me.
I was in the hallway when I ran into Kayla.
"So what did the elders want?" she asked.
"To send me away."
"What do you mean? Like, back to Tarrant?"
Tarrant was the small town near the entrance to the national forest. Most of us had grown up there.
"No, I mean, like to other forests, other areas, places where other Shifters hang out. They think my true mate is out there somewhere just waiting to connect with me."
Her jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah. Whoever heard of matchmaking grandfathers?"
"Maybe they're worried about keeping the species thriving."
I shook my head. "Nah, I think they just finished their Sudoku puzzles for the day and were bored, so they decided to meddle."
"Maybe they care about you."
She made me feel guilty for having unkind thoughts about their attempt to play Cupid. From an early age, we were taught to respect them. But who wanted to be set up by men who'd probably forgotten what it's like to first fall in love?
Looking over my shoulder, I could see through the doorway and into the council room. Connor, Lucas, and Rafe seemed to be engaged in an intense discussion. I had no doubt that the three of them were the most powerful of the Dark Guardians. But Connor held my attention like no one else ever had. Whatever the topic was he cared deeply about it. It was evident in his burning expression. I wished he would look at me with that intensity.
"So you wanna go somewhere and talk?" Kayla asked, dragging my attention away from Connor.
My stomach tightened painfully with the thought of any more interrogation. "About what?"
"I don't know. Girl stuff. Wolf stuff. I'm still adjusting to this whole new lifestyle."
Girl stuff I could handle. Wolf stuff…I wasn't so sure I'd be able to talk about it without giving away that I hadn't actually ever experienced it. "I'm going for a humanlike run."
She might invite herself on a four-legged run, but I'd never seen her jog.
She furrowed her delicate brow. "Do you have to work to stay in shape now that you can shift?"
"I love running on two legs. It can't be beat for an adrenaline rush."
Before she had a chance to debunk my statement—since I figured there was truly no greater rush than what one experienced when shifting—I hurried up the stairs to my room, grateful that she didn't follow. I quickly changed into running shorts and sneakers. Grabbing my iPod, I rushed outside before anyone else could stop me and hit the ground running.
As I settled into the familiar rhythm, my mind drifted to Connor. I should have reached over and taken his hand. Squeezed it. Silently communicated that I was there for him. Where was the strong, bold Brittany who had defied the elders and gone off on her own to face the full moon? Yeah, Connor might not be ready for a relationship, but that didn't mean he couldn't use a friend who did more than drool whenever she was in the same room with him.
I shifted my thoughts to Bio-Chrome and our plan to destroy them. Its lead researcher, Dr. Keane, and his son, Mason, wanted to figure out what made Shifters shift. They wanted to replicate it, create some sort of serum that would allow Statics for a short while to have the capabilities of healing and transforming that Shifters did. But in creating their product, they could very likely ruin everything we had. They wanted to capture a Shifter. We had no guarantee that whoever they captured would survive whatever experiments Bio-Chrome had in mind. But worse, they'd reveal our existence to the world. Even if Kayla was correct and it was time to tell humans that Shifters existed, we needed to be able to do it on our terms—not Bio-Chrome's. I wasn't a hundred percent convinced that Statics were ready to accept the existence of Shifters. Bio-Chrome didn't treat us as though we had rights. When they'd captured Lucas, they'd put him in a cage and tormented him.
They would stop at nothing to gain what they wanted—to have our abilities to shift.
I could relate. I'd waited so long for the arrival of the right moon and now that it had passed I was straining to reach the next one—to see if it made a difference.
But Bio-Chrome would kill to gain what they wanted.
SIX
When I returned from my run, Lucas had posted a listing of the teams. Connor had been put in charge of a team. I wasn't surprised. Lucas depended on him as much as he depended on Rafe. Connor was good at analyzing situations. He wasn't afraid of anything. He'd be a terrific leader. My leader, since I saw my name on the list below his.
A tiny thrill shot through me. We'd be working together in close proximity. I just had to hope that whatever we were assigned to do, we could do it without shifting.
I still had a lot of pent-up energy that needed to be released, so I headed down to the gym. Some time back, the basement of Wolford had been converted into a workout area: two walls of mirrors, two of red brick, and no windows to let in sunlight.
Apparently I wasn't the only one feeling restless. Several guys were lifting weights, including Connor. I received a few nods of acknowledgment, but for the most part my arrival was ignored. I was one of the few girls who'd ever stepped foot in this underground dungeon. Maybe the reason none of the guys had declared me as his mate was because they felt as though I offered competition that none of the other girls did.
I grabbed a towel from the stack by the door and tried to calm my quivering nerves. I'd never been in the gym while Connor was there.
I'd planned to work out with free weights, but the only available bench was beside him, and I just couldn't bring myself to go over there. I headed for the treadmill on the wall perpendicular to the row benches. Connor was no longer in my line of sight. Since I'd just returned from a jog that had left me sweaty, I went straight back into running mode. I turned up the volume on my iPod and got into a rhythm where all my troubles melted away.
A couple of guys stopped to look at me, then returned to what they were doing. As far as I knew, no one gave a flip about an aerobic workout once they were touched by a full moon. After they had the ability to shift, running on all fours was a completely different game. On the brick wall opposite me, someone had slapped a bumper sticker that read, "Real Shifters do it on all fours."
The treadmill was definitely a stupid choice, Brit.
If anyone made a snide comment, I'd claim habit as my excuse. Then I got mad at myself for feeling like I had to justify my actions. I hadn't before. I wasn't going to now. I enjoyed running. So what if I preferred it in biped mode?
I kicked up the tempo and could hear my feet pounding the rubber over Carrie Underwood's voice blasting through my earbuds. She was singing about a guy who wouldn't call, which made me look over at Connor. In one hand, he held a large dumbbell. He curled it up and down with movements so smooth that I almost didn't believe the 40 LBS. stamped on its side. He was wearing shorts and a black T-shirt with the sleeves torn away, leaving ragged edges that made me think he'd used his teeth. It was stupid to find a ratty old T-shirt sexy but I did. H
e was ripped, of course, like most of the guys were.
I knew he'd been working out for a while because a fine sheen of sweat covered his skin. He still hadn't bothered to shave and his hair looked even more unkempt. He looked rugged and dangerous, a guy accustomed to always winning. Little wonder he wasn't in the happiest of moods since the full moon.
Some of the guys were talking to one another, the occasional bark of laughter echoing through the room. But no one talked to him, no one bothered him.
He swung his head in my direction, and I averted my gaze so fast that my eyes nearly bounced around in their sockets. I immediately regretted my reaction. What did I care if he caught me staring at him?
I thought about last night when his gaze had dropped to my lips. I thought about breakfast when I'd caught him studying me, and I remembered the tension between us during the meeting. That electricity had always been one-sided, but now it felt as though it might be flowing both ways.
And just as I had that thought, the fine hairs on my arms raised just a little. I slid my eyes over to Connor. He was looking in the mirror in front of him, but it was obvious that he was looking at me and not himself. He didn't flinch or avert his gaze; his concentration was centered on me. He was still working the weight and his jaw was clenched as though he was straining against something. And I didn't think it was the weight of the dumbbell. It looked like child's play for him.
I wanted to think of something clever to say, something that would indicate that I could take him or leave him—or would indicate my interest if he was interested. I'd never played any of these flirting games. I needed to do a little research, check out some chick flicks with Kate Hudson or Drew Barrymore. But would the torture be worth it? I was more into action flicks.
Before the last full moon, I'd always been honest and upfront with people. Lately I felt as though I wasn't even walking in my own skin anymore.
But I couldn't think of anything to say to Connor. I didn't look away and neither did he. He was slowing his reps and I could see the slightest quiver in his muscles. He probably needed to stop, but he kept going. Watching him straining like that did something to my insides. Suddenly I was fighting to draw in air. I pressed the cool-down button and began slowing my steps to keep up with the machine's preparing to shut down.
I never took my gaze from Connor's. When I finally stopped, I removed my earbuds and stuffed them in my shorts pocket. I wiped the towel over my face, burying it in the soft cotton and mentally preparing myself for what I planned to do.
As deliberately as possible, I walked over to the bench beside Connor, sat, and pulled off my T-shirt, relishing the feel of cool air hitting the damp skin around my sports bra. Watching Connor in the mirror, I thought it looked as though his movements faltered. His eyes narrowed. He started pumping faster. I had this crazy moment of feeling like I was tormenting him, that perhaps he was finally really taking notice of me.
Reaching down, I wrapped a hand around a ten-pound weight. I began mimicking his movements, all the while acutely aware of his gaze wandering over me. I grew warm and languid, the kind of feeling I had when I went to the spa with my mom and spoiled myself with a hot stone massage.
"What are you staring at?" I finally asked.
He shook his head, but didn't look away. "None of the other girls are as devoted to working out as you are."
"I can't help it if they're slackers. I want to be the best Dark Guardian there is, and that means staying in shape."
"Guys will always be better Guardians than girls," someone said.
I jerked my head over to where Drew, a novice, was doing leg squats. It always seemed to me that the novices were a little too cocky when everyone knew that a true Guardian could kick their butts around the moon.
"I could outrun you," I said.
"That's stamina not strength."
"So what do you want to do? See who can lift the most weight?"
Grinning, he shook his head. Drew was known for liking to get physical, for inciting fights. I didn't know if the guy was going to make it as a Dark Guardian. He had anger issues he needed to get under control. Around him, a couple of guys stopped what they were doing to pay more attention to us.
"Leave her alone, Drew," Connor said.
"I can fight my own battles," I told him.
He rolled his eyes, demonstrating his impatience with me.
"Isn't that what being a Guardian is about?" I asked.
"It's about fighting with the pack," Connor said.
I knew he was right. It irritated me that he was right. But his order to leave me alone was followed as everyone returned to concentrating on his exercises. When Connor barked, the others usually jumped. I figured if he wasn't good friends with Lucas, if he didn't believe our kind needed to behave with more civility, he might have challenged Lucas for pack leader. I had no doubt he would have won.
In spite of his usual good humor, which had apparently gone into hiding since Lindsey's betrayal, he was one of the toughest Guardians.
So why hadn't he beat Rafe?
"So what's up with you and Daniel?" Connor asked in a low voice.
I almost lost my rhythm. I switched the weight to the other hand while he did the same. "What are you talking about?"
"This morning at breakfast, the way you were acting. Looked like you were reconsidering him for a mate."
"Jealous?" I asked. I realized the moment the words left my mouth that it was the wrong ploy.
"Just curious."
"He's a nice guy, but that's all."
Something shifted between us that I couldn't quite identify. Connor sped up his movements, grunting louder, pumping harder. His eyes were on my reflection in the mirror. I began to move in tandem. The air was thick with heat, as though we were engaged in a contest of wills and weights. The sweat glistened on my skin. I felt a drop roll down the center of my stomach, and watched as Connor's gaze followed it until it reached the waistband of my shorts and was absorbed into the material. His grunts got deeper, harsher. A feral glint lit his eyes. For the first time, in human form, he resembled the ferocious wolf he could transform into. I wasn't sure what was making me more breathless. The way Connor looked or the weight of the dumbbell I was lifting.
Unfortunately, the burn in my arm became too much. As much as I hated to, I had to concede. Panting, I dropped the weight to the floor. Connor kept going. Be that way.
Moving away from him, I positioned myself on a nearby mat and began doing stomach crunches. When my arms were rested, no longer quivering, I went to the chin- up bar, jumped, and grabbed onto it, my fingers curling toward me. Facing the brick wall, I brought myself up and back down. All around me, I could hear heavy breathing, the grunting of us working hard, preparing mentally and physically for the battle with Bio-Chrome.
Exerting a great deal of effort, I brought my chin to the very top of the bar before lowering my body again. Over and over, quickening my pace until my arms begged for mercy. I slowed. It was a mistake. Without the momentum, it was too hard. I dropped back to the floor. Bending over, my hands on my thighs, I dragged in deep breaths, relishing the high that came from working out to the max.
"You should always expect an attack," Connor said, his voice low, his warm breath whispering along my neck.
I glared at him over my shoulder. "That's what I'm preparing for."
"You can never be completely prepared."
Before I could respond, he wrapped his arms around me, lifted me up, and slammed me down on the nearby wrestling mat, his body straddling mine. The gym had grown impossibly quiet. How had I not noticed? The only grunts and harsh breathing were coming from Connor and me. The others were circling around to watch the show.
Connor was strong, impossibly strong. I couldn't match him in strength, but I figured I had agility on my side. With a quick thrust of my leg, I leveraged myself up and slid from beneath him, safely rolling to the side. Part of me wanted to run away. It's always the smartest choice.
But another
part, the part that had desperately longed for the moment when I would be able to shift, commanded me to pounce.
I jumped onto Connor's back, wrapping my arms around his chest. Instincts drove me to sweep my left leg against his knee, causing him to lose his balance. As we fell, he turned just in time, putting me on bottom. But it didn't matter, I was in control and he knew it.
Connor's body flexed, his muscles knotting up, and with one slick move he was again in charge. For several minutes we changed positions. Never speaking, bodies sliding over each other's. At times, it was difficult to tell where my skin ended and his began. Connor's body was slick from working out, making it hard to grab on to. But so was mine. His hands, large and powerful, slid down my back and across my thighs. My fingers were digging into his shoulders.
We broke apart and scrambled to our feet. Breathing heavily, we circled each other. His eyes held the glint of a predator, along with something more. I could feel the tension in the air—but it had nothing to do with competitors. It was all about girl-boy. The sexual awareness was humming between us.
"You're good," Connor said, and I heard the respect in his voice.
I wanted to swell up with pride, but I didn't dare let my defenses down.
"I told you she would be." It was Lucas. I hadn't seen him come into the room. I wondered how long he'd been observing.
Connor gave a barely perceptible nod and then he was coming for me again. He went high and I went low, grabbing his leg and using his own weight to toss him to the floor. In the fierce moments that followed, I twisted around, grabbed his arm, slammed his elbow across my thigh, and torqued it. Some referred to the maneuver as an arm lock, but I seldom paid attention to the technicalities. I just knew it gave me an advantage when my opponent was bigger than I was. Connor roared, the beast within him not at all happy with being restrained.