The Loup Garou Society - Julie Steimle (most romantic novels TXT) 📗

elevator bit by bit, a number of them trickling down the stairs when they were done seeing Paris up high. A few came up the stairs like he had. Rick saw those American French-Club students come out of the elevator, those three girls giggling together as they hurried to a good spot to take pictures. He tried to keep out of their sight. He and Margarete waited, wondering if Genevieve had been stopped or if she was waiting on the second floor rather than at the top. Rick doubted that she would climb the stairs like they had if she was anything like Margarete.

Margarete grabbed his arm, squeezing tightly. “There she is.”

He had been staring off into space at the time, wondering what they could eat for lunch. He looked and saw a pretty woman with honey colored hair the same texture as Margarete’s. The rest of her was very different except for her eyes. They were amber the exact shade of his father’s. Margarete waved, holding tightly to his elbow as if he might run.

The honey-blonde saw them and smiled, though her eyes raked over Rick like claws. She stopped a foot away, angled her head at a perky incline which Rick also took as combative. “There you are.” The she said to Margarete, “Really, all the way to the top?” Her English was impeccable.

“Less people,” Margarete said. She then looked to Rick.

He raised his hands in surrender. “Don’t kill me. I come in peace.”

Seeing Paris

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

Genevieve laughed, amused, but not happy. Her teeth were beautiful and straight. Her canines were also a little sharp looking. He wondered if that was natural or a sign that she was agitated.

“Margarete says you have an explanation for our father’s behavior. So, beloved heir, explain.” It was cold how she said it. And Rick felt she was definitely on edge.

Stepping back, nudging Margarete to let go, he gestured for them to head to a slightly more private place. There really weren’t any, but they could at least get away from the elevator in case any other wolves came up on it.

“First off, as I told Margarete, I didn’t know about Dad’s… behavior until yesterday,” he said.

Genevieve just glared at him. Clearly she did not care if he knew or not.

“Secondly, my dad—our dad—was manipulated by the Loup Garou.”

She rolled her eyes.

Rick realized that she was intent upon hating him no matter what he said. She didn’t care about anything but her own anger. He had to change tack or this entire meeting would be a waste. Besides, it didn’t seem that she had any right to be mad at him. He had never done anything to her.

“Are you perfect?” he asked, growing indignant.

Genevieve pulled back. “What?”

He took a step closer. “I mean, I understand why you are mad at Dad and me. But for you to continue to… ugh. You aren’t being fair.”

“Not fair?” she bristled. “Do you want to know about not fair? I will tell you a story about not fair—”

“Oh, so your father was brutally murdered when you were nineteen?” he said with bite. “And while in a distressed state, running from hunters bent on destroying you, you sought refuge in a pack you thought would help you, but ended up manipulating you to impregnate as many women as possible—which you regret and have never done again? Hmm?”

She stared. “No, but—”

“But you are being manipulated by the same creeps who manipulated our father,” he said, a growl in the back of his throat. He got even closer “Truth is, you’re not allowed to be angry with those who are truly causing all your problems. They won’t let you. But Dad never wanted to leave you. And he sent me to find you so he could make it right.”

 Genevieve looked to Margarete who nodded. She then smirked at Rick, pleased.

A little deflated and lot off guard, Genevieve said, “You are a quick talking wolf.”

He averted his eyes.

“You remind me of Remy and Claude.”

He blinked at her.

She shook her head then peeked at Margarete. Then she looked to him. “She told you about Claude?”

Rick nodded, sadly.

 “Would our father weep for him?” she asked.

Blinking at her, he nodded. “Yes. I think it’d kill him.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Figuratively,” he added, shooting her a dirty look.

Genevieve chuckled, sharing a look with Margarete. “Cute. I wasn’t actually thinking that… exactly.”

Hanging his arms, he moaned. He also noticed an influx of people onto the platform. And he smelled wolf.

Of course, he already smelled his sisters. But there was a musky male wolf smell—the odor of sweat filling his nostrils. Three distinct odors, actually. He clenched his teeth, cringing. The Loup Garou were up there with them.

“I brought your cell phone like you requested,” Genevieve said to Margarete. “But you know I am being followed.”

Margarete nodded, sniffing the air. She also cringed. Genevieve pretended she didn’t smell a thing.

“You didn’t lead them here, did you?” Margarete asked.

Genevieve shook her head, smiling with a hasty kiss to her sister’s cheek. “No. but I expected it. There is no way we can get away from them.”

“How about I meet you somewhere?” Rick said, ducking to be out of sight.

The sisters shared looks with him. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “There is nothing wrong with you meeting your sister up here. Let them see you both. They are not looking for Margarete as they are looking for me. If I am not seen with you, then everything will be fine.”

The sisters exchanged looks. The familiarity of the exchange was enviously sweet. Those two ladies must have had that sisterly connection for a long while. Honestly, he wished he had that kind of familial comradery with someone like that. He loved his dad, but it was not the same.

“We can meet on the second floor?” Margarete suggested.

Rick nodded. He looked to the elevator. “Can you distract them so I can sneak down?”

Genevieve shared another look with her sister and nodded. “Sure.”

He slipped back towards the American tourists, specifically the teenagers. The French Club was enjoying the view along one side. The boys were teasing each other, daring their pals into tossing things over the side of the tower. The girls were giggling and taking selfies in clusters. The gal trio had spotted him almost the second he slipped into their group.

“Hey,” the blonde sidled up to him. “Parlay vous Ingles?”

Rick chuckled, making sure his face could not be seen by the wolves who were lifting their heads and perusing the crowds. Unfortunately they probably were sniffing for him. He had to find somebody with strong perfume to stand next to. The blonde wasn’t wearing any.

“Uh… actually, I don’t speak French very well,” he said.

She and her friend nearly burst out, “A fellow American!”

“Shhh!!!!!” He sniffed around for strong odor to mask him, then found one. It was menthol he picked up and not perfume, which was even better. He slipped next to that bushy haired girl, Audry. “Sorry, is that a balm or cough drop I smell?”

She peered at him with annoyance. “What? You don’t like it?”

He shook his head, peeking back towards the wolves. “No. I do, actually.”

Her expression lightened. She held out a small jar. “It’s herbal. For sore muscles.”

The word herbal made him cringe. He peered hesitantly at it. “There’s no garlic or honey in this, is there?”

“No.” She shook her head, annoyed. “It cajuput oil, clove oil, cassia oil, dementholised mint oil and paraffin.”

He took the jar and opened it up.

The vapors spread onto the air. He could not smell the wolves anymore, or anything else really.

“Woah! That’s strong!” Her classmates waved it away. Cries to close the jar came from several of them. Rick watched the wolves pass by him until they spotted Margarete and Genevieve. Then they B-lined it toward the two women. When they had passed, Rick closed the jar.

“What are you doing?” that girl Audry asked.

Her friends also stared at him, confused.

But their teacher clapped her hands together and said something in French to them. He almost understood it. Something about them going. He hoped that meant they were leaving down the elevator soon, and not the stairs. He needed some cover.

“Are you hiding from that girl you came up with?” the blonde asked as their class advanced toward the elevator to go down. There was a short line.

Rick shook his head. “No. Actually, we were supposed to meet somebody. But she was followed.”

“Oooo!” The twosome shared giddy looks.

“Shhh!” he hushed them, looking to Audry for help as she seemed to be the sensible one.

But she just stared with dry eyes at him, especially that he was ducking down.

“Look,” he said, “I’m trying to avoid some people.”

“That’s kind of mean,” Audry said.  

He shot her a dirty look. “They aren’t the best people.”

“Oh, come on!” Her blonde friend grabbed Audry’s arm. “Let’s help him out. This is an adventure!”

Audry rolled her eyes. “Jenny, this isn’t a movie. He’s just a guy sneaking into our group.”

“He’s not just a guy,” her friend in braids said. With a stiff excited smile, she added, “He’s Howard Richard Deacon the Third!”

Rick cringed, groaning. He hoped her words didn’t carry. If the wolves overheard her, it was all over.

Audry gazed at him, still dry with disbelief.

But her friend pulled up on her cell phone a digital pic of him from online showing him at a party with Selena Davenport in the Astor Hotel a few years ago. He was three years younger, but it definitely looked enough like him now. And even Audry lost much of her cynicism as she compared the picture to him, closing one eye.

“Fine,” he said, ducking lower. “That’s me. And I need your help.”

“Why did that woman call you Rick?” Audry cocked her head to the side, as if who he was was an insult. She was getting annoying.

He huffed. “I go by my middle name, ok? Who wants to go by Howard?”

The nearby girls snickered. So did the boys. He was gaining an audience. Luckily, their procession to the elevator was also moving.

Audry sighed, then shrugged. “Ok. Then why are you running from those men?”

He rose to call her obnoxious.

But Jenny slapped her on the shoulder. “Are you kidding? Kidnappers. He’s super rich.”

“Are you super rich?” one of the boys asked, eyeing Rick over. His clothes definitely made him look like an every-guy. Immediately Rick could see the devious glint in the boy’s eye, extortion and blackmail most likely going through his thoughts. The boy looked inclined to attention to them for money, if he could.

“Forget this.” Rick shook his head. He was about to rush to the elevator which was open and taking people.

But Audry’s two friends rounded on their classmate like piranhas while Audry grabbed Rick’s arm and pulled him into the center of their group.

“Don’t you dare!” the girls snapped over their classmate. Audry was watching Rick with less cynicism, perhaps finally comprehending he was in real danger.

It was a good thing too, because those wolves were still searching around for him. Rick noticed Margarete had tugged Genevieve to the stairs, looking sadly resigned to going down those flights again but intent on leading the wolves off the upper floor and away from him. Two of the wolves followed. The other was still prowling