“Luke! I’m out of ones!” Christy, our gift shop cashier, hollered from inside, waving. A half-circle of restless customers surrounded her counter.
Relieved by the distraction, I swallowed my rising worries, and headed to the exam room.
Chapter 85
“Calm down, Missy.” Zane hovered over the female Zebra. His current caring demeanor belied his feral nature as a werewolf.
Standing just inside the door, I could sense Missy’s terror. She saw Zane as a hunter not a healer. I wondered if he was even a real veterinarian.
“Are you planning to help or just watch me struggle?’ Zane asked, eyebrows raised.
“Oh, I don’t know. She thinks you’re going to eat her for breakfast.”
“You think you’re so cute, don’t you? Do you have any idea what you’ve got us into?” He moved away from the squirming filly to face me.
“Me?” How in the world could he blame me for his brutal rampage? And why did I still find him so darn delectable? My so-called disgust had vanished, replaced by an unacceptable craving to feel his mouth on mine. I forced myself to think of the bloody men in the field. That did the trick. My loathing returned.
“Yes! You! When I said ‘stay in the bar,’ did that not mean stay in the bar?” He stepped closer, glaring down at me, his eyes wild with fury and something I couldn’t discern.
Backing up, I found myself pressed against the wall. Icy fear froze my mouth, keeping me from spouting off.
“What have you done to me, Chloe Carpenter?” Taking another step, he reduced the distance between us. I could smell his musky cologne and feel his body heat.
“You’re scaring me,” I peeped.
“It’s about time something scared you.”
Without warning, he reached around the back of my head with one vast hand, drawing my mouth to his.
His lips pressed against mine; I melted — my knees all rubbery. Sensing my dilemma, his other hand slid around my waist pulling me closer.
To my dismay, he was hard — everywhere.
A little moan escaped from the back of my throat as I parted my lips, allowing him to explore my mouth. Sighing with pleasure, my hands moved of their own accord, finding their way around his neck and into the thickness of his dark waves. His hair was as I’d imagined, soft yet dense.
A delicious wildness hummed between us, I was reeling from its intensity.
Missy’s distinct braying-bark tore through my mind, reminding me I was locking lips with a vicious, inhuman beast, all while the zebra looked on, fearing not only for her own safety, but also, from the images she was firing my way, for mine.
“The zebra needs you,” I whispered.
“From what I can tell, you need me more.” Zane smirked.
“O-o-o-o-o … you.” The words wouldn’t form.
So much for self-control.
Deciding to hammer my raging hormones into submission, I approached Missy with caution. I could see the pain and terror in her eyes. Apprehensive, she snorted as Zane moved closer.
“You’re scaring her. How can you be a vet when the animals see you as a predator?”
“I’m great with lions, tigers, and bears, oh my.”
For a moment I just stared — a werewolf joking about the Wizard of Oz. Could things get any stranger?
I should have known better than even to think the question.
“How about you being Little Red Riding Hood and I’ll be the big bad wolf,” he roared with laughter, sending Missy into a braying fit.
“Is everything all right?” Luke pushed through the swinging doors. Worry etched across his face.
“Our new vet seems to have an obsession with fairytales.” I stopped to glare in his direction. “And a desire to torment me and our poor zebra.”
“Zane, I have to tell you, I heard you laughing like …”
“A maniac,” I finished, pleased to have Luke on my side at last.
“I was going to say, like he was having a good time. It was Missy’s discomfort I was worried about, not yours, Chloe.” Luke looked between us.
Ignoring Luke’s mutiny, I faced the zebra. She’d waited long enough for our diagnosis.
I rested one hand on her side and stroked her neck with the other, making sure to gain direct eye contact. The graphic images she released were disgusting, fitting with the horror-movie-theme from my previous day.
A well-muscled man, hidden inside a hooded sweatshirt, tore across the zebra’s meadow, remaining crouched, low to the ground as he ran. It was nighttime, and I could feel the horror as the human-beast ambushed Missy, slamming her to the ground.