Her Perilous Wolf - Julie Steimle (types of ebook readers TXT) 📗

took a step closer to him, yet too scared to get as close as she used to before she had known he was also the wolf. “Why did you do it?”

Immediate confusion came into his face, almost wolfish in his gaze. “Do…?”

“You took on a cougar,” Audry accused.

He blanched, quickly averting his eyes. “I…”

“You could have been killed.” Her mind went back to the wolf and all she did to rescue him. His skin had practically peeled off by that cougar. If he had let go his bite even a bit, the cougar would have slaughtered him. And here he stood with all those scars.

He shook his head vehemently. “No. You could have been killed.”

Vincent paled, looking from one to the other, not sure what he was overhearing. He could not recall everything he had heard about that summer incident—only that Maris got bit by a cougar and survived.

“How did you even know I was there?” Audry demanded, her anger with Rick lingering. That memory was too fresh.

“Don’t be mad. Audry… I…” Rick’s head hunched into his shoulders. He averted his eyes. “It was the full moon. It was a total coincidence that Dad and I were in Yellowstone. But I’d… I’d know your scent anywhere. Especially after you put on that balm Daisy gave you.”

Vincent perked up. What balm?

Audry colored. Guilt seeped into her, the incident on the beach involving that balm still something that had her shaken. She still had the small jar of unusual liniment, but it was now in the bottom of a box again. It had enhanced her scent, specifically her pheromones, and had invoked a visceral, animal, reaction in him—and in Hogan.

“Did your ex know you were a werewolf?” Vincent asked with a side look at Rick. He only knew a little bit about Daisy MacTire—and all from Audry.

Rick nodded frankly to him. “Sure. She’s also a werewolf.”

Audry paled almost stumbling. “What?”

Nodding to her, Rick said in earnest, “Which was why I had Tom drive her and her pack from your booth. I was freaked—terrified for you. Especially since Daisy gets extremely jealous.”

Vincent grabbed his own head. “Oh my gosh. I am having a brain fart…. You mean there are werewolf packs out there?”

Looking to him again, clearly wishing he were alone with Audry, Rick nodded frankly. “Several. I’m not part of one, but—”

“Hold on!” Vincent shook his head, staring at Rick. “You mean to tell me—” he looked to Audry, “uh, tell us—that there are packs… as in more of your kind, out there?”

Stepping away from Vincent, meeting his gaze in all sincerity, Rick said “Vincent, before you freak out more, understand this: the SRA already know werewolf packs exist. Secondly, not all wolf packs are dangerous. Most are just trying to live their lives. And thirdly—”

“Wait!” Vincent held up his hand. “Before you give me a thirdly—how many other supernatural things out there are real?”

That question made Rick think a moment. Peeking to Audry who was just staring at him, Rick finally shrugged. “I don’t know. Imagine a mythology, any one of them. Then picture them all being real. I keep meeting new ones I’ve never even heard of before. So… all of them?”

Nausea rose in Vincent’s throat again. He could not believe it. “What?”

“If that’s the case, how come no one sees them?” Audry asked, watching Rick as he stood there looking rather sheepish on the beach among his shed wolf hair in the sand.

With fond deference to her, as if he were indeed her wolf indebted to her for his life, Rick said, “First off, they are rare. Secondly, most people only see what they want to see. But they are seen.”

Vincent and Audry stepped a little closer together.

Rick pointed back to the cabin. “I’ve already let you in on my secret. But for this to make more sense to you, I’ll let you in on one more. Every one of my friends over there is supernaturally connected—just in different ways. Audry already knows a few of their stories. I do believe Matthew came clean to you a year ago.”

Audry nodded, trembling.

Vincent turned to her. “What?”

“Matthew is psychic,” Audry replied to him with a side peek. “And he proved it to me.”

“Maybe it was a parlor trick,” Vincent weakly suggested, standing in the sand as one overwhelmed, knees weak.

She smirked at him, knowing he was not doubting as much as wishing none of this were real. “No. He’s not a hokey psychic with card readings and stuff. Matthew’s gift is being able to tell if you are lying. He can hear what you are really thinking in any given moment you speak. It’s really useful for his job as police detective. I can introduce you, and you can see for yourself.”

Rick nodded, watching Vincent take this in. He then sighed, jerking his head toward the house to say once more that they ought to head back. Then he led the way.

Vincent hissed to Audry, following him as she did. “What else do you know?”

She shrugged, lowering her voice a little, though she too was shaken, struggling to grasp once more that magic was real and not just Silvia’s witchcraft. “His friend Tom Brown also is sort of psychic, but he only seems to hear the naughty things going on in your head.” She shook her head. “And Bobo tried to convince me last year that he is under a curse.”

“The Rubber and Glue Curse,” Rick said over his shoulder, walking on. He was the only one not shaken. Rather he walked as a weary man who was going back to a weary sort of life, resigned to it.

She nodded, cringing. She didn’t like it so quickly verified, though.

“What’s that?” Vincent made sure they kept their distance from Rick who continued at a normal pace ahead of them.

“It’s…” Audry shook her head, working to keep up. “Remember when you shook Bobo’s hand and said he had a firm grip?”

Vincent nodded.

“Well, remember when I stopped you from punching him in the arm?”

He nodded again. “Yeah?”

“Well, according to him, whatever you do to him, it bounces off of him, and it happens to you.” Audry shrugged. “I wasn’t convinced when he tried to show me. But I didn’t want to hurt him.”

“I heard about that.” Rick turned with a glance over his shoulder, chuckling and shaking his head. 

She jogged up to him. “He told you?”

Rick nodded, watching Vincent rush after her to protect her still. “Sure did. He was trying to convince me to become my bodyguard.”

Painfully laughing, Audry knew that. It felt like a running gag. Bobo was always talking about that. “Is he your bodyguard now?”

“No.” Rick moaned with an eye roll. “The last time Bobo guarded me, he got a knife in his chest.”

Audry drew in a breath.

“I was thirteen,” Rick said, as an aside. “I thought he was dead.”

“What?” Vincent anxiously looked up to the cabin for Bobo. He couldn’t see him “Did he get surgery?”

Shaking his head, Rick started up the sandy slope. “Nope. Bobo can’t be killed. At the time, it took me a bit to remember that. I was too shocked when it happened. And, well, the hunter who chucked the knife at him is probably living in horror of the day of ever coming in contact with Bobo. Because of he ever does, he will die from the very same knife wound to the chest he inflicted on my friend.”

“You threatened him with that?” Vincent marched after him, nearly shouting.

Audry took in a sharp breath. “No. Oh. I get it. The guy threw the knife.”

“Exactly.” Rick nodded to her, smiling. He was pleased she guessed so quickly. “If he had stabbed him, the hunter would have died right then.”

Vincent halted, nonplused and staring.

“So if Bobo gets shot…?” Audry asked, keeping up as she started to believe now what Rick was saying.

Rick halted and turned around. “Don’t you encourage him. That’s his damn argument. If he gets shot, he won’t die, but the shooter—if he knows about Bobo’s curse—will live in fear of bumping into him as he would die. But Bobo still feels pain. And I don’t want him hurt.”

She stared into his gray irises, taking in a breath. He meant it. It mattered to him. His friends really honestly mattered to him. She averted her gaze. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

He shook his head and walked on. He seemed wearier now. “You need to stay away from me. For your safety. I won’t ever hurt you, not on purpose, but there are people out there who would and will if they knew you and I were on speaking terms.”

Shivers went over her again. Audry’s mouth felt dry. But instead of that filling her with fear for her own safety, it just seemed utterly unfair. She had the right to speak to whomever she wanted to. Why was it always that the lunatics were running the asylum these days? She indignantly hurried after him.

“I just wanted you to know the truth before you stumbled onto it in bad place with you freaking out.” Rick halted again closer to the cabin and shook his head. “I’m also sorry for getting Doug involved in Troy’s… necessary, but annoyingly dangerous blood study.”

“What’s this?” Vincent asked, joining them quickly. He was not going to let Audry alone with him. “Doug did mention something about maybe coming over to meet Troy.”

“What?” Rick turned. He looked to Audry shaking his head earnestly. “No. Don’t let that happen. I’ll talk with Troy. He’ll be mad at me, but he’ll understand.”

“Why would he be mad at you?” Vincent asked, looking Rick up and down as if he had some other nefarious secret to divulge.

“What is so dangerous about Doug meeting Troy?” Audry asked, thinking over what she knew about the pale man who was avoiding the sun. She really did not know much. Randon never really said anything.

Rick closed his eyes, cringing. “I wanted so hard to keep you out of my mess.”

They both stared, then exchanged a glance. Each had a different idea of what Rick’s mess was, though they listened.

“Troy Meecham is a… daytime vampire,” Rick explained wearily, as if it sounded hokey even to his ears. “He doesn’t drink blood, but he suffers from vampiric conditions none-the-less. He is looking for the cure to the vampire bite, which is what he is using Doug for. Doug is, after all, an expert in blood pathology.”

He gazed at them frankly, hoping they would understand.

“What’s a daytime vampire?” Vincent waited for clarification.

Meeting his gaze squarely, Rick said as one barely hanging on to his patience, “It is a vampire that does not turn to dust in the sunlight, only because he doesn’t live the vampire lifestyle of killing humans and drinking their blood. If he were to drink just one drop—just one—he’d be an ordinary vampire which cannot abide natural light. In the sunshine, a true vampire turns to ash.”

“That’s real?” Audry gasped then looked to the cabin.

“Yeah,” Rick nodded to her, his eyes expressing it was the earnest truth. “It was a total freak out for all of us when the vampires force-fed him their blood. And he was intent on committing sun suicide because he didn’t want to become a vampire ever.”

Sun suicide? Vincent and Audry snuck looks with the same thought.

“So, he wants a cure for his vampirism?” Vincent asked, pale.

Rick leaned from him. For a second Audry thought he was going to shout at Vincent for constantly interrupting him. However, instead, Rick examined her cousin and replied, “You’re taking this better now. Are you imagining you are dreaming? Or are you just going with it?”

“Just going with it.” Vincent replied with a shrug, somewhat dazed.

Rick smirked, nodding. “Ok.” He walked on. “There is no cure for vampirism. He wants to find something to heal vampire victims. He was one once. But the vampires caught up to him this last year. And as I said, they forced him to drink their blood. That’s how you become a vampire. The bites