Most Eligible Wolf - Julie Steimle (e novels to read TXT) 📗

She had an obviously inquisitive nature. However, knowing Rick would want to keep ordinary humans out of the supernatural realm, Troy gestured for Kurt to step aside with him for a more private place to talk—entirely out her earshot.

“Can you ask Rick to meet me at—” Kurt started.

“No.” Troy shook his head. “Sorry, we’re super protective of our friend. There are a lot of people who want him dead, and I hardly know you, and—”

“I know,” Kurt nodded appreciatively. “And I get it. But I need to talk to him. If you can just tell him I am here looking for him, we can arrange a safe place for us to talk—with his bodyguards and everything watching. I don’t care. But I gotta talk to him.”

“What does this concern?” Troy asked, more curious.

“It’s private,” Kurt said, glancing once again to his surroundings.

But some sound pitched on the air and Kurt flinched in a familiar way. It got Troy thinking. “Oh….” Troy leaned back, eying Kurt more—especially his hair and eye color, which were borderline normal but a little off—like his hair was a bit more furry than hairy and his eyes were not quite a human color. He said. “Can I guess?”

Kurt looked panicked. Clearly he had never really hung around full-blooded humans much.

Sighing, Troy smiled. “To make it easier on you, I understand your need for secrecy. But let me just guess. You have strong allergies to garlic, honey, and silver.”

Kurt’s eyes widened more in panic, fixing on him.  

“It’s ok,” Troy chuckled. “I am fully aware of what Rick is. It doesn’t bother me that you are one too.”

This time, Kurt relaxed. In fact, he looked likely to collapse with relief, like he had been running forever and was dazed from the journey. A bit like a war refugee, really. Kurt then leaned nearer to Troy. “How many of his friends know what he is?”

Shrugging, Troy started to count, but then quickly gave up as he remembered that Rick had a huge collection of friends from several places, and he honestly didn’t know. “Enough of us.”

He then looked around and started thinking over things. This Kurt looked like he truly needed help from someone. Apparently it had to be him. So he said, “I’ll tell you what. You stick with me, and we’ll find Rick together.” He peered over the convention center and murmured out loud, “We were supposed to meet up for lunch, but I get the feeling that I just missed them.”

“Just missed him?” Kurt grew panicked.

“Not to worry,” Troy said, with a chuckle. “I’ve got his phone number, I think. I heard his dad had it changed a couple times so… we’ll see if it is the same as the last time I used it. We can always get his New York address.”

He then began to dial on his cell phone.

It immediately went to voice mail.

“Huh.” Troy turned off the phone, deciding not to leave a message just yet. He hated answering machines besides. Something about having his voice recorded made him paranoid. He had heard a rumor that such recorded messages were monitored, and he didn’t like that. He didn’t like the feeling of being followed.  

“Ok, just walk with me,” Troy said.

Kurt nodded, though he looked over his shoulder, watching for someone.

In fact, Troy asked because it was bothering him, “Are you being followed?”

“Yes,” Kurt said, tensely.

Troy quickened his march, waiting for more from the guy though Kurt was not forthcoming. So he asked, “By whom?”

Kurt shot him a pained look. He exhaled heavily and finally said as if it hurt him, “The pack.”

“Pack?” Troy almost halted. However, he then went faster and led Kurt to a place where they could have a decent amount of privacy to clear up any misunderstanding. “As in a wolf pack?”

Cringing, Kurt nodded, ducking in also. He could not meet Troy’s eyes.

“And they are following you because why?” Troy asked, feeling the hairs stand up on the back of his neck.

“Long story,” Kurt muttered, his cheeks coloring thinking about it.

It probably was. Yet Troy said, “We’ve got time to kill. And I need to know what I am dealing with.”

Sighing more, Kurt grumbled, “It’s against pack rules…”

“I’m sure it is,” Troy chuckled. But then he leaned nearer, “But if it is any consolation, I get the feeling you’ve broken some pack rules already.”

Groaning, Kurt did not look inclined to break more rules though. His pack loyalty was still there. But eventually he said, “Old friends. I won’t say their names.”

“I’m not asking for that anyway,” Troy said. “How about you just give me identifiable characteristics so I can spot them in a crowd and we can avoid them”

To that, Kurt nodded. “They won’t look rich. They’re all around my age. Two blondes and the rest are guys. Southern. I can identify them if I see them. I’ve spotted them looking for me, but I was able to mask my scent. Rick taught me the technique, you know.”

Troy was impressed, wondering when Rick had taught this werewolf how to mask his scent. And why. But he decided not to ask. Apparently it was a sore point

But then Kurt asked, “Are you a normal human? Or are you like his demon friends?”

Not surprised Kurt might have heard something about Gulinger, as Rick did not keep some things secret from folk affected by the supernatural, Troy answered, “I’m fully human. And I have no gifts. But, uh, my parents became vampires when I was a kid and tried to turn me into one also.”

Jerking back, Kurt stared at him. He eyed Troy all over looking for signs of vampirism, especially Troy’s teeth.

Troy pointed to the bandage on his neck. “It bleeds whenever a vampire is near—but that is my only connection to anything supernatural—besides my friends, of course.”

Kurt stared more. He looked confused. “How come…?” He couldn’t finish the question, too mind-struck.

Shrugging, Troy said, “How come I didn’t become a vampire? Simple. Vampirism is a choice. I could be bit to death and never become a vampire. A vampire is someone who chooses first to drink vampire blood, and then human blood. It is a life choice.”

“Oh.” Kurt stared more at him, a little disappointed actually. Apparently he had bought into all the movie and fiction myths the same as anyone.

“It’s not the same for werewolfism, of course,” Troy added.

Kurt nodded. “So you know about that.”

Troy nodded. “I know what Rick told us.”

Kurt snorted.

“You think he is wrong?” Troy asked, amused and yet wondering if Rick had a bias. Most people did.

Shrugging, Kurt said, “Us wolves have a different view on our origins than Rick and such wolves like him. His kind see it as a curse.”

“It isn’t?” Troy asked, wondering what ‘his kind’ meant in referring to Rick. It was possible there were other kinds of werewolves out there. He had seen all sorts of ghoulies, so anything was possible.

They started once more out of their safe ‘chatting’ space to continue on their search for Rick again.

Shaking his head with a calm smirk, Kurt said with a musing tone in his voice, “Not at all. A true believer worships the goddess—who is the moon.”

“Oh.” Troy didn’t know what else to say. He wondered what Kurt believed the true origins of werewolves were, because he was pretty sure it was no goddess who had made Rick’s grandfather the wolf into a human being to use as an assassin. A witch, yes.

“So you know and disagree with what Rick believes about where werewolves come from?” Troy asked, trying to be peacefully neutral while also prying for more information.

Kurt nodded with an eye-roll. “Of course I do. Rick believes in witches.”

Troy halted. He stared at Kurt for a second and said, “What if I were to tell you I know witches are real?”

To that, Kurt replied with intense skepticism, “Riiiight? And what proof do you have?”

Shrugging, Troy answered, “By best friend is a witch’s familiar.”

This time Kurt stopped, turning around to face him. “What?”

“A witch’s familiar,” Troy repeated calmly, and started into his march again, his eyes scanning the booths. “A human forced by a spell to become a cat to do the dirty work for witches—and run errands and things. I’ve known a couple familiars, actually.”

“But not the witches themselves?” Kurt smirked back at him, following.

Troy shrugged. “Myself, no. But Rick and Randon have had personal and painful experiences with witches. And I know Randon does not lie about this kind of stuff—and Rick has no reason to. I have, however, met a necromancer.”

Staring, Kurt was surprised.

“The world is a lot bigger than you realize,” Troy said with heavy experience.

Kurt stared in wonder at Troy as they continued their search. “Rick used to say the same thing…”

Chuckling, Troy smiled. “Well, it’s true.

What he had said had given Kurt a lot to think about. After all, if vampires existed—which he clearly believed in—then who was to say witches didn’t? Troy wondered what Rick had told him when they had met. Troy also wondered when they had met. Rick was a lot like his father, Mr. Deacon II, in that he was a private person who kept a lot of secrets. He never told them much about his hometown, had only once mentioned knowing a wolf pack in Colorado, and he always seemed reluctant to share information about his troubles. Such things came out only in times of crisis. Even now, Troy was sure there was a lot that Rick concealed from others, though he was not sure if it was a bad thing. The guy was also super protective of those whom he cared about, and apparently this pack was one of them.

Deals and Negotiation

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

 

Kurt Blithe. It had been ages since Rick had thought about him. The young werewolf with a human mother who had been tricked into a relationship that had hijacked her life. Mrs. Blithe had warned him about the pack when he had been among them. And even Kurt had tried to warn him about Daisy and how she was manipulating him. But back then Rick had been so whipped, hooked in by Daisy’s claws, that he had ignored everything but his overexcited hormones.

He found a quiet spot in a recessed doorway not far from where his friends were steering away traffic while he could talk with his father without being overheard.

<< Hello? Is this an emergency? >>

“Hi, Dad. Kind of. Are you busy?” Rick peeked over his shoulder at the crowds in the convention. Hardly anyone came down this hall as there was nothing for the conference there anyway. It was mostly an empty hotel corridor, closed off for security. If he walked just a few yards further, he’d be in the quiet corridors leading to hotel suites. He thought about going there.

<< Is this related to the convention? >>

Nodding, yet cringing, Rick said, “More like whom I met at the convention. But before you freak out, I am here with Tom Brown, Matthew Calamori and Randon Spade, so I am good.”

<< Who did you meet? >> His father’s voice turned grave.

Wincing, Rick squeaked out, “Daisy… and others from the Wolverton pack.”

<< What? >>

“No worries. Tom and Randon interfered before Daisy could put the moves on me.” Rick then stared at the