Six rules undying book 2, p.31
Six (Rules Undying Book 2), page 31
Paige jumped from the bed and, after a quick moment to steady her spinning head, slipped around him and slammed her back against the door. Morgan’s eyes widened as her claws jabbed into the wood.
“Paige?” he choked out.
“I’m not the one that needs saving,” she growled, her tail swishing and eyes glowing in the lamplight.
Morgan took a slow, unsteady step back. “Paige—”
She pounced, wrapping her arms around his neck and clawing his shirt from his shoulders. He staggered, wild-eyed, as she yanked off her own top. He closed his eyes and nodded a few times, then shook his head as if he was arguing with the imaginary angel and devil on his shoulders.
“Paige, I am damaged,” he said softly. “And whether I like it or not, there is a beast deep inside me, the same monster—”
Paige sauntered up to him and nuzzled her nose against his well-built chest. She slid her hands slowly around his waist and then up to feel the solid bones of his back and shoulders. She then yanked him down with enough force to send him toppling to his knees and putting his pained face exactly in line with her breasts.
“The same monster that I am,” she growled as she lightly raked her claws just over the surface of his damp skin. He squeezed his eyes as tightly shut as humanly possible, but his hands betrayed him as claws began to peek from the tips of his fingers. With every breath, a deep, guttural sound echoed from his heaving chest.
“I’m not an animal,” he whispered. “I don’t want to treat you—”
“Morgan, look at me,” Paige said softly. “Just look me right in the eyes and tell me that you don’t want me. Look at me and tell me that you still want to walk out that door, and I’ll respect your wishes.”
Morgan shifted uncomfortably on his knees. He opened his eyes slowly, but chose to stare at the seventies carpeting rather than at the half-naked werewolf standing before him.
“Don’t you want me?” Paige asked as she gently ran her hand along his jaw and turned his head to look at her. His eyes reflected a brilliant solid blue even in the weak motel lighting. The moment he saw her bare skin, he snarled and took a deep breath of the musky air.
“This is not fair,” he growled as he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer. His teeth made a beeline for the drawstring of her pants, and he deftly untied them using only his mouth.
“Oh, you have talent,” Paige growled as his hands moved along her back and tail and his mouth moved lower.
“I’m only getting started, my dear,” he growled before dragging her down to the floor.
- 25 -
Paige woke up naked and alone in a tangle of sheets on her hotel room floor. She rolled around for a moment to enjoy the smell of the previous night’s activities before a quick shower, then slipped into her clothes and went hunting for the other werewolf in the area.
She found Morgan curled up on the hood of Irvine’s old Civic.
The vehicle had somehow made it into the Open Range parking lot with only three tires and a bare wheel.
“Did you leave me to sleep on a Civic?” she asked.
Morgan yawned and rolled off the creaking metal. “I don’t fit in the backseat,” he said. “The rest of the crew already made fun of me. I helped them out for a bit, but I needed a nap.”
“You smell like you had quite the night. Wow.”
They shuffled awkwardly around the Honda. Morgan pointed to the damp ringlets that now hung to Paige’s shoulder. “Did your hair grow overnight?” he asked.
“No, this is what happens when curls get wet, you know, from showers . . . long hot showers.”
“What is that smell?”
“Something called Imperial Leather. I’m pretty sure that the soap has been here as long as our buddy at the front desk, but it’s all they had other than that pink hand soap from the diner bathroom.”
“About last night—” Morgan said suddenly.
“We’re both a confused and vulnerable mix of hormones, right?”
she said, finding herself doing the same little nod that Morgan was wont to do. “I’m not upset—”
She was interrupted by Morgan sweeping in and kissing her, this time for more than a millisecond. She blinked a few times as she stumbled backward. Morgan steadied her as they both breathed a little heavier.
“Now I’m upset,” she growled. “What—?”
“When we’re not running from vampires, would you like to, maybe, get some tacos? I don’t date very much, can’t drink coffee, and movie theaters scare me, but we could get tacos and go jogging or something like we’re almost normal.”
“I would love to get tacos and go jogging with you, Morgan.”
They both broke into big smiles.
“Really?” he asked.
“Really.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist, but any further flirting was stymied by the roaring sound of a massive old-school RV driving right beside them, honking its horn while the driver howled and blew wolf whistles. The passenger side door burst open, and Paige’s jaw dropped.
“Wow,” she mouthed as a vision of tanned, shirtless, dark-eyed, and dark-skinned man meat sauntered onto the parking lot. Try as she might, Paige couldn’t help but focus on the washboard abs and his low-slung jeans.
Morgan rolled his eyes. “Native American reservations are a good place for recruitment according to Irvine,” Morgan muttered.
“It’s a mix of shaman mumbo jumbo and poor health care.”
“Damn straight!” a voice called from the Winnebago. “Is your girlfriend still drooling over Sammy?”
Sammy smiled and showed off dazzling white teeth. A station wagon turning into the lot slowed down to a crawl so that the two women inside could join Paige in getting a good long look at the hunk with spiky raven-black hair and cheekbones that belonged in a museum. He leaned casually against the sidewall of the motor home so that everyone could appreciate his male-model smolder.
“Paige, this is Sam—” Morgan started.
“And I’m Billy, Billy Black,” a cheerful voice called from the cabin. A moment later another tanned face poked out of the door,
this one a bit rounder and darker. Billy hopped to the ground and punched Sam on the arm, then leaned next to him and did an exaggerated version of the sexy pose. Paige had to giggle at just how far this stranger could press out his lips.
“Hello, lady,” Billy drawled out. “You are like five million times hotter than the Morganator described you.”
“Thank you, I think,” Paige said.
Billy flipped his ponytail of jet-black hair. He looked over at the wall of muscles next to him and the buff arms and blue eyes of Morgan. In comparison, Billy was more the little teapot, short and stout.
“I have no chance in hell, do I?” he asked. “I mean, I totally crush both these guys in terms of IQ and sexual ability, but that’s not exactly the first thing you notice when the three of us are together.”
Paige giggled. “I’m kind of complicated,” she sighed. “But looks aren’t everything.”
“Well, get your stuff, people,” Billy said, still smiling. “We have a lot of traveling and catching up to do. Also, whatever that sexy, soapy smell is, get me more of that.”
Paige and Morgan hurried back to their room and tossed their few things back into plastic bags. Paige said, “So, Billy and Sammy are your Native American adopted pack brothers. That just seems so
—”
“Strange?”
“No, normal,” Paige countered. “I mean, we live in the era of sparkly vampires and hot Native American werewolves. It’s the first thing that’s seemed right.”
“Well, Billy is from a reservation; Sammy was born in Bosnia, but those two were totally raised as brothers. All part and parcel of Irvine’s grand recruitment drive.”
They found Billy at the counter laughing and talking with their little old guardian angel. She waved over Morgan and Paige before accepting an envelope from Billy. The old lady’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as she peeked inside.
“We were never here,” Billy said. “Right?”
“Never saw you,” she said.
“All right, you two crazy lovebirds, let’s get you to Vegas!” Billy cheered as he wrapped an arm around both of them. Only once they were tucked inside the fake wood and floral print lines of the Winnebago did his Velveeta smile drop. “Morgan, what the fuck did you do now?” Billy asked flatly as Sammy slunk toward the driver’s seat.
“I got a call from my informant, and it turned out to be a trap. I did identify a new master vampire though. She goes by Ping-Pong Lung.”
“She beat us up in a cupcake shop,” Paige added.
“I told you that Chicago wasn’t safe—” Billy started.
“I needed to get closer to follow the money—” Morgan growled.
“It’s twenty-fifteen, Morganator; work remotely like everyone else. Is Irvine going to be looking for me next, or was he smart enough not to get made?” Billy asked.
The Winnebago roared to life, sending the three of them diving for the dinette area seats. Billy made the sign of the cross as Sammy turned a little too sharply and gunned the accelerator to get them out of the parking lot.
“Irvine and I split after Memphis,” Morgan muttered.
Billy turned his attention to Paige. “So, you are the first girl in our pack—cool,” he said. “I always wanted a little sister, and since you are out of my league, I’m gonna go ahead and park myself right in the friend zone. Morgan tell you all about our band of merry men yet?”
“No, we haven’t had that much time to talk—”
“Go, Morgan,” Billy said with an exaggerated wink. “Well, I’m sure he failed to mention that he’s the black sheep of our little outfit.
Morgan doesn’t think that the first rule of being a werewolf applies to him.”
“The first rule?” Paige asked.
“Yeah, stay the hell away from vampires. That means avoiding all the things they love like old castles, big urban sprawls, and high schools. The only reason our pack is still alive is because we have the good sense to run away.”
“We are supposed to protect people, Billy,” Morgan growled.
“People have the army and the cops and penicillin to keep them safe. We don’t have that. I mean, hell, remember Colby? He found out the hard way that vampires now carry guns. There are bloodsuckers that are card-carrying members of the NRA. You remember Pete? Harrison? What do all these brave little werewolves have in common? Oh wait, Morgan, they are dead. You, of all of us, should know what happens when you go after vampires—”
“Hey!” Paige barked as she slapped her claws against the table.
“That was a cheap shot.”
Billy burst into a huge grin. “OK, I like this chick, Morgan. She stands by her man,” he said. “I can work with her. As for you, Morgan, you know I love you, man. I’m just pissed that I had to interrupt my business to come all the way out here.”
“Business must be going well,” Morgan muttered.
“I love Denver,” Billy said. “But I’m just going to assume that you don’t want to come help us make a metric shit-ton of money in the Mile-High City. You want me to take you to Bernard so he can help you in your harebrained crusade to get us all killed.”
“Yup,” Morgan said.
“Hey, pretty lady, have you ever watched this man eat? It’s amazing to see what he does with any candy with colors,” Billy said.
“We’ve had lunch together, yes.”
“Wow, she’s seen you eat and not gone running. She is a keeper. Well, we have about nineteen more hours on the road to get to know each other, so where do you want to start?”
They sat in awkward silence for a good long time. Billy seemed content sniffing the air and watching the uncomfortable couple stare out the window.
“So, are you going back to your vampire or staying with us?”
Billy finally asked.
Paige found herself bearing the full weight of both werewolves’
stares now. She looked back out the window at the flat landscape of Nebraska.
“I don’t know,” she finally whispered.
Morgan moved to the sofa across the RV. Billy tapped his fingers against the table and looked suspiciously around the room.
“At least you’re honest,” he sighed. “I never thought I’d see Morgan look at a girl, let alone be jealous of her vampire lover—”
“I wouldn’t say that we were lovers—” Paige said quickly.
“So, are you just one of those vamp tramps who goes in for the HVS?”
“HVS?”
“Hallucinogenic vampire semen.”
“Eww, what makes you think that I—?”
Billy raised a brow. Paige looked over at a stone-faced Morgan.
She shifted uncomfortably in her plastic seat.
“Did Morgan tell you that I’m the tracker of the pack? Those guys are big bad wolves, but I’m more of a bloodhound,” Billy said.
“You mean that I still smell like him?” she asked with a horrified expression.
“Well, no, but I’ve heard the stories about what vampires did to cute little werewolf girls, so I thought I’d find out firsthand.”
“All of you are assholes,” she snapped.
“Well, we were raised by the best,” Billy confessed. “Look, I’m sure you didn’t have much of a choice—”
“You’re right,” Paige snarled. “In fact, neither of us had much of a choice because ever since Irvine attacked me, I’ve been lied to, chased, pumped full of drugs . . . Ugh, don’t judge me for sleeping with a hot vampire while I was completely out of my mind from turning into a goddamn werewolf in my mother’s bathroom!”
She slammed her fists on the table again. This time the melamine cracked. Billy raised up his hands apologetically. She didn’t let him open his mouth.
“So, yeah, my vampire and I have some issues, but he takes care of his own. He doesn’t run off killing people in coffee shops or slaughtering helpless families. Your uncle, Morgan, beat the crap out of me when I couldn’t defend myself; and you,” she said, turning right back to Billy, “you are a manipulator that stinks of fake leather and marijuana! I don’t know if I want to deal with any of you, but I am confused, terrified, and in way over my head. So either help me or pass me on to the next jerk. Are we clear?”
Billy nodded. “Morgan, she’s stronger than us, isn’t she?” he asked.
“You better believe it,” she snarled, her eyes completely amber.
“Why don’t we start with some anger management meditation, and then I’ll start teaching you some werewolf tricks?” Billy asked.
“Morgan, you should probably get a shower next truck stop. It’s hard to smell anything over your rank ass.”
- 26 -
“Morgan, I’m totally staring at your girlfriend’s ass,” Billy called to the other end of the RV.
The other werewolf looked briefly over the laptop screen and growled. In the meantime, Paige buried her face in the pillow, while Billy stared in fascination at Paige’s tail. She swished it from side to side but resisted the urge to smack Billy in the face with it.
“So, what do you think?” Paige asked.
“Can I try bouncing a dime off your butt?” Billy asked. “Because I have never seen buns quite so tight.”
“No, you cannot bounce a dime off my butt!” she cried as she rolled over. “Jesus, are you always like this?”
“I’ve had the hormones of an eighteen-year-old boy for an extra seventeen years—what can I say?” Billy sighed. “But your tail looks more like a coyote than a wolf to me. Tell me, are you part Native American at all?”
“Nope.”
“Not even a smidgen? I mean, you never even lied on it to get college money or anything?”
“My dad’s side is Scandinavian and English, and my mom’s side is Italian, French, Jewish, and vampire—” Paige started.
“Wait, what was that last one?” Billy asked.
“She’s the daughter of Dexter Carmichael. We didn’t realize until it was too late that the vampire we pointed him to was his ex-wife’s grandfather,” Morgan said. “Also, you need to be more careful with your deposits in your business accounts, or else your tax returns are going to be full of red flags.”
“What are you doing?” Paige asked.
“Whenever I bail him out, he has to do my books,” Billy said.
“I am actually an accountant,” Morgan added.
“Online education at its finest,” Billy said. “Don’t give me the glower, Morganator; you know that we’re proud. Anyway, I have some ideas that I want to research.”
Paige watched Billy root around in an old-school footlocker stashed in the kitchen. She looked quizzically at actual leather-bound books and handwritten papers slipped into plastic sleeves.
Billy pulled out a beaten notebook and flipped it to the middle.
“What are these?” she asked as she took the seat across from him.
“Vampires influence the media, and I’m pretty sure that they own Google. It’s hard to find a lot of accurate information about us through traditional outlets, but I have collected everything that I’ve either proven wasn’t bullshit or just sounded really cool.”
“Vampires don’t actually own Google. It’s publicly traded,”
Morgan interjected.
“So they claim, but I have my doubts,” Billy muttered as he flipped through the notebook. “Anyway, Irvine is the one that bit you, right?”
“I bit him actually,” Paige corrected.
“Damn, girl,” Billy said. “Well, that helps, because I have a lot of years of data on our little pack. It’s a lot of data due to the high turnover, but I’ve never seen a tail on any of us, but then again, none of us have ever been girls.”
“What is the big deal about a tail?” she asked.
“There have been a lot of people throughout history accused of being werewolves, but most of them were crazy. Hell, even most real werewolves can’t turn into wolves. It damn near kills us, and actually creating a full spinal column extension with new muscles and nerves and everything, well, that’s ultimate werewolf overachievement. It means that you can grow new nerves. That’s amazing.”
