Читать книгу Wolf Tales V - Kate Douglas - Страница 10

Baylor stood to one side in the small landing at the top of the stairs and watched as Harry Trenton carefully folded the crisp hundred dollar bill he’d just taken from Bay’s hand. Harry had the good grace to look moderately guilty, but he lifted the door mat and drew a check and a five dollar bill from beneath it, then knocked on the door.

It didn’t open, of course. Bay hadn’t expected it to. He heard someone on the other side, a soft voice, low-pitched and slightly rough. “Thanks, Harry. I’ll call next week when I need a new order.”

“Sure I can’t bring the stuff inside for you, Ma’am? The box is heavy.”

“I’m sure. Thank you. Your check and tip are under the mat.”

“Got ’em.” Harry slanted a suspicious look at Bay and then turned and walked down the stairs to the ancient Ford pickup parked in the street.

He didn’t look back, though he did pause for a moment on the bottom step, as if reconsidering his actions. Baylor held his breath. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation here, so close to his target.

Harry continued on across the cracked sidewalk and climbed into his truck. The engine growled, the truck rattled in place, backfired twice and then slowly headed down the narrow street.

Baylor stayed in the shadows and waited. She was in there. He’d heard her voice, rough and scratchy as if from lack of use. Her scent lingered, rich and inviting, an alluring temptation calling him close, but he knew better than to rush anything. He knew she stood just on the other side of the door. He heard a soft shuffle as she moved, the creak of floorboards, then finally, a good ten minutes or more after Harry had gone, the sharp click as a lock was turned, a handle moved.

The door lacked a traditional doorknob, but the accessible lever designed for those with physical handicaps slowly tilted downward. Bay pressed his back to the wall beside the door, saw the shadow of hands reaching for the box of groceries, then the fur-covered fingers themselves, tipped with dark claws that dug into the cardboard and dragged it slowly across the threshold.

Once the box was fully inside, Bay whirled around, stepped across the threshold through the open door and shut it behind him. The small, twisted figure crouched over the box, amber eyes wide, stringy blond hair hanging loose and lank, too frightened to scream—a creature out of his worst nightmares.

The photo in the paper had been kind.

She didn’t even try to run. Instead, she collapsed and folded in upon herself, rolled into a small, cotton-shrouded, fur-covered ball, and whimpered like a lost pup.

He’d not thought beyond getting through the door. Had no idea what he would say or do once he finally found her, but the last thing Bay had expected was the heart-rending sound of such abject grief.

She was hardly bigger than a child and her tragic cries devastated him. He did the only thing he could. He leaned over and picked her up, cradled her unresponsive body in his arms and walked across the small living room to a big, overstuffed couch. Then he sat down with her in his lap, held her close against his chest and stroked her long, straggly blond hair.

She didn’t try to pull away, though he felt her trembling and sensed her fear. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to help you. I promise.”

She wore some kind of gray, shapeless smock that covered her body with long sleeves and a full skirt. He felt an awkward lump in his lap and knew it must be a tail, or at least part of one. She’d apparently started to shift and been unable to complete the process, leaving her body an awkward, obviously painful combination of human and wolf.

There wasn’t anything remotely attractive about her. Thick wrists, rudimentary thumbs, long, sharp nails. Her face was buried against his chest, but she had more muzzle than mouth. Her ears were stuck midway between where a human’s would be and the upright position of a wolf’s, with tiny tufts of fur covering them.

He wondered how long she’d been caught like this, who had cared for her to allow her to survive, and most of all, if she was just too frightened to speak. He hated thinking he was causing her so much distress. He tried mindtalking but there was a wall as high and thick as any he’d encountered. She might not be fully Chanku, but the woman—or girl—managed to block.

For all he knew, she could be a child, but he hoped not. He’d been hard as a post from the first whiff of her scent, the purely feminine Chanku musk that had attracted him from the moment he’d entered the room. Richer even than Shannon’s fragrance, this ugly little she-wolf had his blood thrumming in his veins.

She drew a long shuddering sigh against his chest. He waited for her to say something. Anything. Instead, she snuggled closer against him and sighed. Bay felt the rigid tension in her body relax as she finally surrendered to the safety of his embrace.

Manda figured that as long as she kept her mouth shut and didn’t look the man in the eye, she wouldn’t have to deal with whatever had just happened. Besides, it felt so good here, held snugly in his strong arms. She felt protected. Safer than she’d felt in many years, even though he was obviously up to no good. Why else would he have come for her?

Harry had betrayed her. He’d promised her keepers he’d deliver her weekly grocery orders and protect her privacy, but this beautiful man had obviously bought him off.

She wondered what newspaper or television station he represented. There was a price on her head, one she’d tried to ignore for much too long. The fact the man had found her told Manda she’d not been careful enough, but maybe this was merely one more example of God’s punishment.

It would be nice to think otherwise. She’d never seen anyone as handsome as he was, even dressed in that strange, black leather suit. It made him look huge and powerful, but she liked the way the leather smelled. She even liked the way he smelled, but she didn’t know a lot about men and their scents.

She’d never been around a man who didn’t terrify her, except maybe Papa B, the man who rescued her so many years ago. Even so, she was almost sure she’d been punished enough for her sins, though she knew her father would never have agreed.

Whoever it was who held her, adjusted his position. She wondered if she was too heavy for him, if maybe his arm where she rested her upper body had grown weary. He stroked her hair with his right hand, an act so tender yet unbelievably erotic, she practically whimpered.

She’d never been held by a man. Not even her father when she was small. He’d patted her head occasionally but left the affection and hugs to her overbearing mother. That was before the curse, when she’d still been just a normal little tow-headed girl living with her missionary parents in a small village on the Tibetan Plateau.

Of course, Mother had only been a pain with Manda and the help. Terrified of her overzealous missionary husband, Mother had taken her frustrations out on either Manda or the young village girls who came in to clean and cook for them.

Manda missed the girls from the village. She’d played in their homes, eaten at their tables. Life in Tibet had been a wonderful adventure. Wonderful until God cursed her for her sins.

“Will you talk to me now? Are you going to be okay?”

His voice rumbled from deep in his chest and she felt it against her cheek. Manda sighed. She’d truly hoped he would just go away, though she knew that wasn’t about to happen.

“I’m okay. I can talk,” she said, though her voice, twisting out through her malformed vocal cords, often slipped into squeaks and grunts. “I don’t really want to, though.” As much as she loved the warm comfort of his arms, Manda sat up and pushed herself away from the man. As quickly as she could, she scrambled off his lap and turned away. It was easier not to look at him. To know he couldn’t see her face.

They’d let her wear a veil at the lab in California and when they’d flown her in private planes whenever she had to travel. Manda wanted to think it was more for her own comfort, but she knew the truth. It was so she wouldn’t frighten the technicians or anyone else who might see her.

“Please. Don’t turn away from me. I’m not here to hurt you. I don’t intend to write stories about you or tell anyone you’re here. I really am here to help.”

Now that was a new approach. She almost laughed, but choked the sound back at the last minute. She’d had all the help she needed over the years, thank you very much. Look what it had gotten her. Not a damned thing but pain and fear.

Manda heard him stand up and flinched. A warm hand touched her shoulder and fingers squeezed her lightly, as if caressing her. She trembled. Her entire body was shaking and there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it.

“Relax. I’m going to put your groceries away. I don’t want anything to spoil.”

She heard him walk away and her stomach growled. She’d run out of food early yesterday and was desperately hungry. Now the scent of the blood-red meat in the grocery order made her mouth water. She licked her muzzle to keep from salivating all over herself and slowly turned around.

He’d picked up the heavy box like it weighed nothing at all, and carried it into the kitchen. A package with two thick sirloin steaks sat on the top. He set that aside and began putting other perishables in the refrigerator—fresh hamburger and chicken, even some fish, though it wasn’t her favorite. Manda focused on the steaks sitting on the table, slowly warming to room temperature.

She licked her muzzle again and inhaled the rich smell of fresh blood. A whimper caught in her throat and she realized she’d moved closer to the table. Had he noticed? She couldn’t be sure. He put the last of the groceries away and she wondered if he’d forgotten the steaks, but when he moved the cardboard box to a corner, he went right back to the package of meat.

Manda glanced up at him and blinked. He looked at the raw meat the same way she did!

“You like it raw, too, don’t you?”

Too? He liked his meat raw? She nodded her head.

“Good. Do you mind sharing with me? It’s been a long journey, searching for you.”

She shook her head, entirely confused now. No one else ever ate his meat raw. She was the only one. The freak.

He reached in the cupboard and grabbed two plates. Set them on the table without silverware. Grabbed a knife, tore open the plastic wrap covering the steaks and slid a thick slab of meat onto each plate.

“Do you want me to cut it up?”

She nodded. Carefully, he cut one of the steaks into bitesized pieces. Then he held her chair for her and Manda slipped into it, resting on one hip to avoid that damned tail. He sat down across the table from her and waited.

Confused, she stared at him, then caught a strong whiff of the meat. Hunger took over and she practically attacked the steak, using one paw to hold the plate. Biting and licking up the pieces, tearing at them with her sharp canines. Swallowing the meat in huge gulping bites.

It tasted warm and rich and she thought of what it must be like, to hunt and kill and eat meat still warm from life. She’d rather think imaginary dreams than actually consider the implications of the man sitting across from her.

She knew he must be watching her, but the hunger was too powerful, her need too great. She licked the last remnants of blood from the plate, still holding it down with one paw. Finally, Manda forced herself to stop and raise her head. He’d left his piece of the steak intact. Now he sat across from her, holding the bloody slab of meat in his two hands, chewing thoughtfully as he watched her eat.

She licked around her muzzle with her long tongue. So what if he saw! He already knew what she looked like. Then she used both hands to pick up a napkin and carefully wiped the rest of the blood away from her face. Hunger assuaged, Manda watched the man finish the last of his steak with obvious relish. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and smiled at her, then rested his chin on his folded hands. “Do you want to tell me your story, or should I tell you mine?”

“Tell me who you are.” Her voice sounded scratchy, as she so rarely used it anymore. Still, he looked pleased that she’d at least said something to him. Even more important, he didn’t look frightened by her. He didn’t look away.

“My name is Baylor Quinn. Bay, for short. I’m with a group called Pack Dynamics, and I’m here to help you.”

“You said that already. There’s no way to help me. Look at me.” Belly full, finally more angry than frightened, Manda pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. She had to catch the edge of the table for balance. She held her arms out, displaying her smock-clad body as best she could. “I’m a freak. An example of what happens when you sin. I’m cursed. You can’t help a curse.”

“You’re not cursed. You’re caught halfway between shifts.”

Manda shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know it doesn’t, but it can. It will. You have to trust me, though. I want to show you what I mean, but you need to trust me. Don’t be afraid, don’t scream. Most of all, don’t run away.”

She frowned. “I can barely walk. Running’s out of the question. Where would I go? Besides, why would I want to run away?”

He laughed, but he stayed well back from her. “Because you’re going to think I’m absolutely nuts. I’m not. Nor am I a pervert, but I have to take my clothes off if I’m going to do this right.”

Manda laughed. She couldn’t help herself. In fact, she realized that in some perverse way she was actually enjoying herself. What she’d feared for so long—discovery—had finally come to pass. The worst that could happen to her had happened and she was still alive. For now. “You’re kidding, right? You think you’re going to just barge in here, eat one of my steaks, and tell me not to weird out when you take your clothes off? I may be a freak, but you’re certifiable.”

“Maybe.” He unzipped the heavy black leather suit and peeled it off. There were regular clothes underneath. Manda realized he was much slimmer than she’d first thought. Once the suit was off, he started unbuttoning his shirt.

“What I have to show you has nothing to do with being naked, and everything to do with who and what you are. What we are. For the record, I have a very good friend who looked almost exactly as you do. He’s now a very handsome man with a wife and new baby…and sometimes he’s a wolf.”

She was still trying to process what he’d said when he slipped his muscular arms free of his long-sleeved cotton shirt and draped the shirt over the kitchen chair. Manda hadn’t seen a man’s chest for years, and she’d never seen one like his, so perfect it made her sex tighten in anticipation and terrified her at the same time. What was it he said? He had a friend just like her? Impossible.

He reached for his belt and she turned around.

“No,” he said. “I want you to watch.”

She snorted. “You really are a pervert, aren’t you?” She didn’t turn away. Couldn’t. Just knowing how she’d reacted to the brief sight of his lean, muscled chest with the dark swirl of hair between his nipples warned Manda anything else might be too much. Still, shouldn’t she be afraid? A stranger had forced his way into her home, eaten her food and now was undressing and asking her to watch?

She must be just as perverted as he was. Or maybe she was merely desperate.

“Please. You need to turn around and watch this. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She heard the sound of his boots hitting the floor, then the rustle of his jeans. Tried to imagine the lean strength of his hips and whether or not the hair on his groin matched the dark pelt on his chest.

“You really do need to watch me if you’re going to understand.”

Manda sighed. What was the point? She pivoted slowly, awkwardly, and caught the briefest glimpse of him naked. Tall, lean, and muscular with the kind of body that could provide plenty of fuel for any woman’s fantasy…even a freak’s.

Then he was gone. So quickly Manda barely had time to gasp.

In his place was a wolf. Black overall, with amber eyes that glistened against the ebony fur, the beast sat patiently in exactly the same spot where Baylor had been standing.

Manda’s twisted legs gave out. She fell to her knees, caught herself with one hand braced on the floor. She reached out and touched the animal’s face, scooted closer and ran her fingers the length of an ear. “Baylor? Is that you?”

The wolf nodded. Such a human response was almost too much. Almost. She touched him with both hands now, hands that weren’t nearly as much like paws as his. He held up one foot, almost as if he knew what she was thinking. Manda took his big paw in her own, compared the ebony nails, the thick pads on his, the longer fingers on hers.

It couldn’t be. It was impossible, but then wasn’t she impossible as well? “How?” She sat back on her fanny, hard, and it hurt because the stub of a tail that had never quite become anything other than a stub got in the way. Scrambling to her feet, Manda held out her hands. “Tell me. How?”

Then, as if she’d blinked and missed something miraculous, Baylor Quinn stood in front of her again. He was closer though, his lean body so sleek and perfect she wanted to weep at the wretched ugliness of her own.

She clasped her hands in front of her waist to keep from touching him, stared unabashed at his male perfection, the lean cut of his belly, the thick length of his dark penis. It wasn’t quite flaccid, nor as hard as she knew it could be, resting there against the heavy weight of his testicles.

Manda knew all about those parts of a man. Knew they were supposed to bring pleasure but in reality gave only pain. Knowing what she did, why did she still want to touch him? Another part of that damned curse? It must be.

He bent over and grabbed his underwear off the floor and quickly stepped into the cotton boxers. He pulled on his jeans and his shirt, but didn’t say a word. He buttoned the fly on his jeans, left his shirt undone, his feet bare. Manda practically quivered with the need to know, but she didn’t ask again. He’d come here to help her. She had to believe.

She had no choice.

Bay sat down on the couch and patted the seat beside him. Manda limped tentatively across the room and sat on the soft cushions, but as far away from Bay as she could. He knew she’d tried to make it look as if she merely wanted to be comfortable, but her barriers had fallen when Bay shifted and she’d broadcasted her thoughts like an open book.

He still terrified her, but for different reasons. He wondered what had happened to make her so afraid of men. Whatever, it went beyond the mere fact of her appearance or the fact he was a stranger. He tried probing her mind, but her chin snapped up and she glared at him, obviously aware he intruded.

Bay took a deep breath and wondered where to begin. It hadn’t been all that long ago that Jacob Trent had done to Bay exactly what he’d just done to this young woman. Shifted from man to wolf, and in the process, turned Baylor’s world upside down.

Then, just as quickly, Jake had righted it. Answered the questions that had plagued Baylor all his life. Questions that couldn’t possibly be as confusing as the ones this young woman confronted. He couldn’t imagine going through life looking the way she did. Well, he had to start somewhere. “Will you tell me your name?”

She looked oddly vulnerable and at the same time, almost pleased with his question. “I thought you knew. My name is Manda. I figured that was how you found me.”

Bay shook his head. “No, Manda. The folks here are working damned hard to protect you. Even Harry, the guy who brought your groceries, only agreed to tell me where you lived when I convinced him I could help you. He wasn’t real happy about it, but I think he finally believed me.”

“Did you do that for him? Change into a wolf?”

Bay shook his head. “No. That’s a secret we’re not allowed to share.”

“You shared it with me.”

He laughed, reached out and ruffled her tangled hair and realized he’d frightened her with the friendly gesture. Immediately he withdrew his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s just…I’m not used to people not being afraid of me. Or disgusted. I’m not used to other people, period.” She looked down at her paws crossed in her lap, then raised her head again. “I haven’t always been like this. I was cursed when I was twelve years old. Up until then, I was just a normal girl.”

“Why do you think you were cursed?”

“I sinned.” She looked away. “My father caught me…” She sighed, then looked directly at Bay and the words spilled out. “He caught me touching myself. He said it was an abomination. A sin against God. If I didn’t pray for forgiveness and promise never to do it again, God would curse me. I didn’t ask for forgiveness because it felt too good and I knew I’d do it again, so I lied to my father. That night the rebels came into the village. They killed Mother and Father. It was all my fault, for lying, and I was cursed. I became this creature.”

“How long ago was this? How long have you been…” He couldn’t call it a curse, though to Manda it must be worse than death.

“Like this? It happened almost twenty-five years ago. I’m almost thirty-six years old and I’ve looked this way my entire adult life. I’ve been studied, poked, experimented on, and raped, all in the name of science. You try telling me it’s not a curse. If not, then what? Tell me, Mr. Quinn. You seem to have all the answers.”

He wanted to smile at her anger. She still had spirit. No matter what had happened, that hadn’t been broken. “Actually,” he said, leaning back against the padded arm of the sofa so he could see her better, “I probably have as many questions as you. What scientists? What happened?”

She clenched her hands and glared at him. “No more. You said you have answers. Damn it, tell me what happened. I have to know. Why? What made me this way? If not God’s curse, then what?”

He liked her already. “Genetics. Your breeding. I believe you, just like me, are Chanku. An ancient race of shapeshifters that first appeared on the steppes of the Himalayas, probably not that far from the village where your parents were missionaries. We don’t know if the first ones evolved naturally or might even have been left here by some alien race millennia ago. What we do know, however, is that the species loses the ability to shift from human to wolf and back again without certain nutrients found in that one isolated area of the world. I can only imagine you ate some of the local vegetation that allowed your Chanku genes to awaken. We can’t shift until reaching puberty. You were twelve years old. About the time when a lot of girls begin puberty, right? What happened the night your parents died?”

Manda stared at him a moment, amber eyes wide, yet Bay knew she tried to process what he’d just told her while she focused on her memories. Somehow she would have to reconcile an entirely different history for herself, but now she relived her own reality. Horrible memories of blood and death and abject fear. He felt them, saw as she remembered, experienced her agony through the thoughts spilling out of her now unblocked mind. Bay felt her horror of the men on horseback and on foot slipping into the small, walled village late at night, moving from hut to hut, burning and murdering.

He saw her father standing at their doorway, his Bible held high as he defied the raiders. Saw the blood spatter from the back of his head when a bullet entered between his eyes and split his skull. Her mother was next, though her death wasn’t nearly as clean as her husband’s. She, like the other women, was raped by many before one of them finally killed her.

Manda saw and heard it all, hidden in a secret closet designed for just such an attack, watching through the woven, wicker door. When the battle ended, when soldiers came in the morning to find what was left of the village, they’d found her by the sound of her whimpering. One of the men opened the door and he’d screamed. Screamed and run from her in fear.

There’d been a young congressman on a fact-finding mission. He’d obviously been repulsed by her appearance, but when he heard her speak English, he’d been kind to her. He’d managed to smuggle her out of the country and back to the United States, where he’d kept her over the years. Moved from lab to lab around the country, she’d spent the last two dozen years being studied as a freak of nature.

She’d called him Papa B, but he’d been dead now for what seemed like forever and the visual Bay got of the man was fuzzy and indistinct. Manda opened her mouth to speak. Bay moved closer to her and touched his finger to the side of her muzzle. “I’ve been in your thoughts. I don’t want to make you talk about what happened. It was truly awful, but what I saw in your memories explains a lot.”

She blinked, almost as if she were coming out of a trance. “How do you know what I remembered?”

“I am Chanku. So are you. We share our thoughts with one another. It’s a form of telepathy we call mindtalking. It’s even easier with a mate, but just getting to know each other will make it easier for us. Living there in Tibet, you probably ate enough of the local foods to enable a small gland in your brain to begin to develop. Probably not fully, which would account for your partial shift. The trauma of the attack and your parents’ deaths would have forced the shift on you. You’re not a freak, Manda. Not at all. You are Chanku. A shapeshifter. Part of an ancient species that exists secretly among humans, but they have the most amazing abilities. I can help you find your true self, but you’ll have to trust me. Can you do that, Manda? Can you trust someone you’ve barely begun to know?”

She reached up and touched his cheek with her paw. Bay felt the sharp nails against his face, the rough pads at the end of each finger, and looked into eyes the image of his own. “The two men who’ve cared for me since Papa B died didn’t come back from their last mission. They’ve been gone more than two weeks now. I’m almost out of cash and running out of money in the bank to live on. I don’t have enough to pay my next month’s rent, and I don’t know where the money has been coming from in the first place. The men who watched me took care of all that. You’re proof that Harry can’t be trusted to keep my secrets, even though he hasn’t got any idea what they are.”

Manda dropped her hand to her lap and took a deep, soulful breath. Bay held his. When she looked at him again, there were tears in her eyes, though he noticed that none fell. Wolves didn’t cry…though the girl in her obviously wanted to.

“You’re the first man I’ve known who hasn’t recoiled from me in absolute horror. I don’t know you, but for some reason I want to believe you and your unbelievable story. It’s a much nicer one than my own explanation, that God has cursed me. I’d prefer being part of a secret, yet ancient race. It’s much more romantic. Maybe it’s merely for my own self-preservation. God knows, I’ve wanted to die often enough over the past twenty-five years.”

“I don’t want you to die, Manda. I want to show you what life really can be like. You have no idea how wonderful it is to embrace that part of yourself you’ve probably hated all your life. You are wolf, Manda. You have the wild heart of a predator beating in your chest. I want you to learn to love the wolf as much as the woman.”

She stared at him for a long, heart-stopping moment. Then she nodded. “Fair enough. What do I have to do?”

Bay laughed and reached for his jacket. He pulled the pill bottle out of his pocket and opened the lid. The big brown capsules smelled like dried grass, and he put one in Amanda’s oddly shaped palm. “Just a minute. I’ll get you some water.”

He went into her kitchen, looked in a cupboard and saw a couple of glasses. He thought better of it, filled a bowl with water from the tap, and took it back to Manda. She sat on the couch, sniffing at the pill in her open hand. “It smells like grass, or maybe dry hay.”

“It’s a combination of dried grasses from the Himalayan steppes. We take one every day, though no one knows if we would revert without them, once the change occurs. I’m not sure how long it will take you to make the shift fully to either wolf or woman. If you take one of these a day, I imagine just a couple days should do it, especially since you’ve obviously already started.”

She popped the pill into her mouth without hesitation and then leaned forward and lapped water from the bowl Bay held in his hands. He’d guessed right, that drinking from a glass would be difficult for her. She raised her head and there were droplets of water glistening at her muzzle. He tried to imagine her as a woman with lips and cheekbones and smooth skin.

“Do we just wait, now?”

“No. Now I need to figure out how to smuggle you out of here without anyone seeing you. I want to take you to our cabin up in Maine. I want to have you far from town when you finally make the complete shift. You’re going to want to race through the forest and I don’t want anyone or anything to get in your way.”

“Can’t I just tuck down in the backseat of your car?”

Bay laughed. “Well, that would work. Unfortunately, all I’ve got is my motorcycle. There’s really no place at all for you to hide.”

He pulled her back into his lap. He was surprised but greatly pleased when she let him hold her close. As horrendous as she looked, Bay realized he was fascinated by her appearance as much as her resilience. Drawn to her addictive Chanku aroma, her feisty personality, her core of strength that nothing appeared to have shaken.

For better or worse, he held her against his chest and accepted the fact he was falling, fast and sure, under Manda’s spell.