he knows of any James’s still living in the area, but I refuse to pull Russ’s only surviving legacy into this. “Just a common name, is all. Now me. Why do the locals call you Rougarou? Do you pretend to be a werewolf on full moons, or something?”
His cheek twitches, as if to laugh. “Perhaps because I like to wear black. I have no idea.”
“You were bitten by a black wolf, though, is that right?”
“That’s right.” There’s a dismissive tone to his voice, telling me not to probe that one any more than I already have. Hooking a finger beneath my chin, he turns my face just enough that I know he’s looking at my scar, his sudden interest distracting me from the question I want to ask, about there being no black wolves on this island. The furling knots in my stomach pull my attention from the gentle, almost sympathetic expression on his face.
“Childhood injury.”
A knowing flicker of amusement in his eyes tells me he doesn’t buy it. Confirmed when he says, “The purpose of the game is to be honest, Miss James.”
“Fine. The scar is an attack. Happened a long time ago, and I lived, so it doesn’t really matter.”
His gaze lingers a bit longer, studying me, as usual, and when his thumb brushes over the scar, my breath hitches. He releases me and twists back around in his seat.
“So. Have I earned passage to this safe place you mentioned?”
“There’s one more question you haven’t answered yet. What were you doing in that house?”
The urge to set my hand to the key beneath my shirt has my fingers twitching beside me, and after what I found in that secret little chamber, there’s no way I’d tell him about it. Aside from the fact that he’d consider me a freak for all that black magic stuff, how the hell do I explain that a ghost compelled me to return to my birthplace?
“Just a house I remember from childhood. I happen to like haunted houses.”
“And this little camping trip of yours was a simple trip down memory lane?”
“You could say that, yes. These men you say are after me …. Why? What would they want with me?”
“I’m afraid that’s a question I don’t have the answer to, yet.” With a turn of the key, he cranks the engine and throws it in gear. “In the meantime, I know of a place they won’t bother to look for you.”
“A boat?” A million different scenarios swirl inside my head, while I stare down at the small little skiff docked at the back of what looks like an old brick apartment building, with a half dozen windows set above iron balconies. The most prominent of those visuals: being hogtied in a basement, or dumped into the swamp somewhere as a tasty snack for the alligators. Maybe that’s why he spared me from the dirty cop. What’s the fun in turning me over, when he can get rid of me himself? “Where exactly are you taking me?”
Instead of answering, he nabs a silky looking gray sheet that’s covering a medium sized cooler set inside the skiff.
“Is that where you store body parts of your victims?” I’m only half joking when I ask.
With a smirk, he shakes his head, tearing a long strip of the sheet away. “May I?”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“It’s this, or knocking you unconscious. Take your pick.”
“What a gentleman. You have a gun, and you’re asking me to climb into a boat, blindfolded, so you can drive me to somewhere in the middle of the swamp. Has no one ever told you girls find that a little bit creepy?”
“This isn’t a date.” He pulls his gun from his side holster, and for a brief moment, my stomach curls at the thought of him shooting me with it. Instead, he passes the grip end to me.
“You’re not afraid I’ll shoot you?”
“No.”
“You’re a sexist asshole, you know that? I’ll have you know I can shoot exceptionally well.”
“Brilliant. Now turn around, so I can fasten the blindfold.”
“What if I don’t, huh? What if I have you drive me to this place at gunpoint? Turn the tables a little.”
With a groan, he reaches down into the boat and, from some compartment, produces another gun, holding it up for me to see. “Then I level the odds, a little.”
“What good is giving me a gun, if you still hold an advantage over me?”
“To give you something to play with, so you’ll stop busting my balls. Now turn.