I Kissed a Dog

chapter 9

Zane led the way around the wolf exhibit to a concealed bench at the enclosure’s far end. He motioned for me to sit.

“I’d hate to have you fainting again,” he teased.

“I’m not a child,” I muttered. I was starting to feel like the damsel-in-distress I’d worked so hard not to become.

“Oh, I’m well aware of your womanhood.” He slid close enough that our thighs brushed. The electrical current tingled down my right leg.

“And, I’ve had to catch you more times in two days than I’ve caught any woman in my lifetime.” He grinned. I noticed for the first time just how pointy his incisors were, not full-fledged fangs, but sharp nevertheless.

I tried without success to ignore his closeness. “You wanted to talk, and I’m all ears. By the way, you’re over-using our little mind telepathy thing.”

“I find it very convenient and stimulating.” He sounded like he meant it.

In truth, there was a part of me that found our private communications stimulating as well. Not that I’d let Zane know. That would give him more unwanted power over me.

“Since you’ve seen more than any human should, I’ll give you a rundown of what’s going on. First, you should know, if you haven’t already figured it out, you’re in grave danger.”

“You think?”

Danger pretty much oozed from Zane. Every moment in his presence was dangerous for me. Except I couldn’t quite accept this gorgeous, very human-looking man, was the same monstrous killing machine I’d seen in the clearing.

“For once, can you just listen without getting all defensive?”

I nodded. If I wanted to learn about werewolves and the impact they’d have on my life, I’d have to surrender my sarcasm.

He continued. “As you’ve discovered, I’m not human. I’m a werewolf. I can change at will, anytime, anywhere, and I’m lethal in my changed forms. I protect what is mine with my life, and I destroy anyone or anything that challenges my pack’s safety.”

“Your pack?” I wondered if he’d protect me with his life. So far, he’d proven to be my personal rescuer, a great listener; he’d even called me a good woman. Every time I tried to remain focused on his evilness, I was bombarded by his goodness.

“Werewolves are divided into packs, some larger than others. I’m the Pacific Pack’s Chief Enforcer. I’m second in command to our pack alpha, Logan Sanders, who is running one of our casinos in Vegas. Our pack is the largest on the West Coast. We live along the coast range, in Oregon and Washington, with a small contingent in California and Nevada.

Jazmine, who you were unlucky enough to meet, was selected to be my mate when I was just a pup. She, too, is a purebred. I despise her. There was a time, when we were younger, that I was drawn to her, but that all changed when I saw the real Jazmine, who is none too charming.”

My curiosity got the better of me and I cut in, “She still wants to be your mate, doesn’t she?” I couldn’t deny that the idea of Jazmine cuddled up to Zane infuriated me.

“Not for the normal sentimental reasons. For her it’s all about power. Mated to me she’d have substantial … privileges.”

I decided to wait before asking more about the so-called mating privileges. I didn’t want to appear eager to become a werewolf’s mate.

Still experiencing some major anxiety about last night, I fired off a series of other must-know questions. “Who were those men that assaulted you? Why did they look so human? What about the Zebra’s attacker?”

“Whoa, slow down, I promise I’ll explain everything,” he reassured.

I wished there was a way to speed up our conversation. There was a way. “Since you seem to like the convenience of our mental chit chat, what if you just thought everything you wanted to say. That way, I’ll see the images.” This seemed like the perfect communication solution under the circumstances.

“Maybe I’d prefer to talk, you know, like two normal people.” He shrugged.

“Face it; we’re not your average Joe and Jane.”

“Take my hand.” He reached over, his unique musky scent filling my senses.

“Is this necessary?” Holding hands seemed way too intimate. After our recent kissing session, my potential reaction to his touch worried me, making it difficult to discount my feelings for him.

Ignoring my question, he grinned what seemed a very wolfy grin. In fact, I could see the wolf in all his expressions. Instead of repelling me, I was even more curious.

“Okay.” I allowed his massive hand to cover my much smaller one.

His heat penetrated through my fingers, warming areas of my body never touched by a man. I gulped, unable to look away from his gaze. The golden flecks in his eyes expanded, his wildness captivating me.

The images he transferred into my mind were crystal clear, squelching any sensuous feelings, and instead overwhelming my senses with the sights, smells, and sounds of a large gathering.

Men, women, and children mingled; eating, drinking, and dancing to the folksy songs of several musicians. Flowing skirts, cowboy hats, and denim coveralls were the fashion trend. A scene from the late 1800’s or early 1900’s had unfolded before me.

Following polite applause, the families seated themselves on long benches and wooden stools. A powerful looking man, with dark hair like Zane’s, moved with surprising stealth to the front and faced the crowd.

“Friends and family, I’m proud, as your leader, to reestablish our peace treaty with the local Indian tribes. Earlier today, we signed this document.” He held up a tanned parchment. “This agreement is based on our ability, as the purebred pack, to maintain control of the mutants, who have of late become very bothersome to our copper-skinned friends.

Ladies and children, if you’d be so kind to let the men move to the meeting room.”

The women clustered together, talking in hushed tones as the men followed their leader through a side door. One lone boy, who resembled the pack’s leader, stood off to the side. His gaze followed the trail of departing men.

“Go on, boy. Your father agreed.” A gorgeous woman, with two smaller children clinging to her skirt, prodded the older boy forward. After a brief hesitation, he dashed through the entrance to join the men in the other room.

“Who is the boy?” I asked; certain he was a relation of Zane’s.

“My father. The leader, of course, was my granddad. This event marked our renewed partnership with the Native American population. An agreement that’s stayed intact until now.”

“What do you mean, until now?”

“Keep watching.” He squeezed my hand.

Following their meeting, the men exited the building, trudging in a triangular formation into the darkness. They hiked deep into the forest, stopping outside a grassy clearing occupied by a half-circle of misshapen lean-to’s that faced several glowing bonfires.

Around the fires, figures crouched, feasting on dead carcasses — some animals — others human. Their hands and faces were splattered with gore.

Sensing the purebred pack, their lips receded. A series of snarls erupted from the camp.

Zane’s pack shifted with unparalleled speed. A visual vibration surrounded them as bones broke, split, and refitted together; faces stretched, forming the elongated muzzles I recognized from last night. The pack’s height increased, giving them the appearance of towering, fur-covered giants. Fangs glistened in the moonlight.

The nighttime peace was shattered by roars, snarls, and vicious growls as the two sides launched into battle, their bodies forming a sea of fur and flesh.

From the start, the purebreds maintained a considerable advantage.

Able to change without a full moon, they dominated the mutants, pressing their advantage. Flesh tearing and blood spraying, Zane’s pack moved through the camp like conquering barbarians. The most attractive females, a group of ancient males, and the children, were spared.

“They became our slaves. Some of our males chose their women as mates. It was a bad idea. We should have complied with the Indians and destroyed them all. Then, maybe, we wouldn’t be in the situation we’re in now,” Zane added, his expression grim.

“What situation?” I found myself hanging on Zane’s explanations.

“When you leave enemies amongst you, in time, they find a way to rebel. In the late sixties, we agreed to let the mutants move on. The ones remaining in the wild, so to speak, had been staying away from humans, trying to blend into society like the rest of us.

With the Indians’ approval, we decided to allow them limited freedom. Our pack chose the strongest males to enforce the long-established law — no feeding off humans or human-owned livestock. Unlike us, mutants have greater difficulty ignoring the bloodlust, particularly during a full moon.”

“So these mutants became mutants in the first place because you guys snacked on them? You haven’t explained how they came into existence other than saying they were ‘bitten.’” I struggled to keep everything straight.

“Let’s just say our ancient ancestors discovered that by biting humans they could convert them into wolf-like creatures — to do their dirty work. They hoped these mixed-breeds would serve as additional warriors and slaves.

Instead of building a loyal army, they ended up creating an enemy. For centuries, we’ve paid for our relatives’ mistakes.” He looked down, as if to gather his thoughts.

“In recent years, we’ve been able to keep things under control. Now we’ve come to believe that some of our own are partnering with the mutants to stir up trouble with the Indians, hoping to take a bite of our financial success while destroying our overall credibility.”

“Where does Ms. Jazmine fit into all this?” My brain was reaching its capacity, but I couldn’t rest without knowing about my arch rival.

“Like I mentioned last night, she works for our casinos. I serve on the Board of Directors, an honor she’s always wanted. Our parents presented us as future mates before the combined Native American Werewolf Council when we were about seven or eight. Regardless of my aversion to her, tradition requires that unless another true partner is revealed, we must mate, or, as you humans say, marry.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Marrying without love sounded like the worst possible fate.

“She showed up here, because when I turn twenty-eight next month, we’re supposed to present ourselves before the council elders as mates. Believe me; I’m trying everything to get out of this archaic agreement. If I can prove she’s up to something that endangers the pack’s well-being, in any way, I’m free from her — forever.” He sighed. “That’s the proven way, unless my true, fated mate appears, although that’s not likely. Most of our kind never locates their actual mates.”

His last words provided an unexpected solution along with a flood of nervous jitters. I could be the woman to save him from Jazmine.

Ridiculous! I couldn’t marry, mate, or whatever it entailed with Zane. He was a werewolf. With my assorted background I was all for interracial relationships. Interspecies? — The jury was still out on that possibility.

I forced my thoughts back to the Jazmine issue.

“What do you think she’s doing to threaten the pack?” I asked, hoping for an answer I could understand. Helping Zane expose her plan seemed like a pretty noble cause. Anything to keep Ms. Jazmine far-far away from Plum Beach — and me — was well worth my time.

“I’m not sure. She’s always been manipulative. What are you thinking?” Zane drew me closer, my hand still in his.

“That I don’t like her, and I still don’t know why those men showed up at the bar.” He’d failed to explain that little, very important piece of the puzzle. “And what about the bodies?” I was shocked the story hadn’t been splashed across the front page of today’s paper.

“Good eye for details, Princess. Those dead dogs were here to deliver a little warning.” He grimaced. “The mutants aren’t the only ones scheming and positioning for power and money. I’ve been assigned to investigate the suspicious murders in Plum Beach, but Logan also believes that several Indian elders may be double-crossing the pack. Jazmine fits into all this somehow. The news is out now that I’m sniffing around.

Since I’ve eliminated the messengers, things will heat up that much faster. As for the remains, I have a friend who handles clean up.”

“Well, I think you’ve got pretty good instincts for a werewolf,” I said, hoping I sounded confident. I was pretty spooked about everything, and the idea of more danger didn’t help.

I’d already decided I didn’t want to know anything else about his little clean up committee. What I did want to learn more about was Jazmine. I knew for certain that she was somehow up to her fangs in whatever was happening.

To conclude our discussion, Randall, the wolf, howled an eerie wail that sent chills winding down my spine, reminding me ¯ Jazmine was a werewolf to be reckoned with — a werewolf I’d do just about anything, including howling at the moon, to keep away from Zane.