involved. The consequences for revealing our existence to humans are … unpleasant.”
I decided not to ask for the extended version. After all, the sole consequence I was aware of didn’t leave room for any others. I’d defeated death more than once and had no intention of trying again. Still, there was one person I figured we could reach out to for added assurance.
“My stepdad’s a cop. Maybe we could trust him …”
“With what? The fact you’re running from a supernatural serial killer, a vengeful woman werewolf, and her mutant warriors, with your new werewolf companion?”
I hated to admit he was right. Bob was way too practical even to consider something as farfetched as ghosts and goblins, let alone monster-sized wolves howling at the moon. For my family, ignorance wasn’t bliss, but it was the safer choice.
“You never told me what other supernatural creatures exist.” I glanced at the window certain there were ferocious fiends hovering just beyond the glass.
I couldn’t seem to escape the vivid memory of Missy the Zebra’s ruthless assailant, blood drenching his face.
Seeing my discomfort, Zane closed the mismatched curtains. Considering his status in the pack, I was baffled by his sparse living arrangements. His car screamed of wealth, power, and prestige. These tiny quarters told a far different story.
Keeping a low profile was the explanation that made sense. I realized again how little I knew about my current companion. I wasn’t even sure what to refer to him as — coworker, life-saver, friend, boyfriend, veterinarian, werewolf buddy, future lover …
“Now you want a bedtime story about things that go bump in the night?” The corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting the urge to smile. “Can I tuck you in too?” A full grin followed.
Thankful for another reprieve from thinking about what Zane meant to me, and relieved to see him back to his normal flirty self, I sunk into the worn sofa. “That depends on how good the stories are.”
Rather than responding with his usual sarcastic-laced enthusiasm, his smile vanished. He froze, listening.
Following his example, I turned my attention to anyone in the vicinity. After a few seconds, I was rewarded with several non-threatening images.
He’s not expecting us.
I hope he doesn’t mind we’re early. Zane isn’t one for surprises.
“I think your friends are here,” I whispered.
“They’re not trying to hide their presence, that’s for sure.” A loud crash confirmed Zane’s observation.
“Ouch!” Several curses followed.
Almost faster than my mind could register his movements, Zane opened the door and vanished. Laughter and friendly greetings broke the silence. I questioned how Mack and Michael had managed to arrive so fast. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to conclude that traditional travel methods weren’t a feasible option.
“I hate teleporting,” a smooth masculine voice answered my unspoken questions.
The explanation wasn’t what I’d expected.
“It was your idea,” either Mack or Mike chided the other.
“Nothing changes. Always bickering,” Zane chuckled. “You picked a great time to show up.”
“Ah, that’s right. You’re protecting the human woman …”
“I can hear you,” I called through the door, not wanting to listen while pretending I wasn’t. The way they said human was borderline insulting.
“She can hear in more ways than one,” Zane agreed, affirming my unique talents.
“I’m Mack,” a monstrous and very attractive man, with shoulder-length, blonde hair, announced. He filled the doorframe.
No wonder they called him Mack. He was built like a Mack Truck. Too bad the werewolves couldn’t form a professional football team.
Sensing my appraisal, Mack flashed a wide grin my direction.
“And I’m Michael. The. Younger. One,” he boasted, dodging his father’s grasp. The two looked more like brothers than father and son.
Zane shook his head, looking from one man to the other. “Need I say more?”
“Did someone say teleporting?” I pressed, ignoring Zane.
Mack glanced at Michael, who looked at Zane. How much does she know? Mack speculated without speaking.
“A lot,” I replied. “We were just starting our discussion on the wide range of existing supernatural creatures.”
Mack and Michael grinned, looking even more alike.
Zane glanced my way. “She’s a pushy one.”
I couldn’t let that comment go. “Hey! Who’s pushy?”
The two M’s sniggered. Zane scowled.
“I like a woman who knows what she wants,” said Mack with approval.
Zane tilted his head, tightening his lips into a hard line.
“Come on, man. We’re just playing. I forgot how fast you jump from fun and games to teasing and tormenting,” Mack scolded.
I determined right then that Mack would be an ally. By the way Zane glared his direction, I assumed he knew too.