Chapter Two
He kept the light in the cab on so he could see every move she made. So far she hadn't done much besides buckling her seatbelt and rubbing her arms. Her long green eyes kept darting over to him, a sure sign of unease.
Mary Locke, Paul Locke's daughter. He'd seen her before, though she didn't know it.
He watched her from the corner of his eyes. Her long, black hair was tugged back into a tight braid, and she toyed with the end of it, curling and uncurling the loose bit around her finger over and over again.
"So what were you doing out there in the snow, anyway?" Was she hunting? He'd never seen the girls hunt, let alone on their own.
She rubbed her arms. "My grandmother is sick. I have to go take care of her. My flight is tomorrow, so…"
A sick grandmother? Andre almost winced. The family was the most important thing in the world to him. Or at least, it was once. But who knew if the girl was telling the truth? She looked to be about four years younger than him; in her mid-twenties, then. If he knew Paul Locke and his 'community', she was probably running from her overbearing husband before she could give birth to her fourth or fifth child.
"How much longer?" she asked.
"We're almost there."
The mid-calf dress she wore was soaked through. It clung to her voluptuous body, showing off each curve. Her cute button nose wrinkled as she sneezed, and she covered her little rosebud mouth with a long, slender hand. Smooth, unblemished skin the shade of alabaster flushed with the cold.
He never thought that a stinking werewolf could be so beautiful.
***
She was sure he was watching her, even though every time she glanced at him, his eyes were on the road before them.
By the time they stopped, so had her chattering teeth. Her dress was still soaked through, and shivers ran down her spine, but she was beginning to warm. The snow was coming down so thick that Mary could hardly make out the building that the truck's headlights shone on. It seemed to be a log cabin of some sort.
"Where are we?" she asked and hoped he'd think the tremble in her voice was because of the cold.
"It's my cabin." He turned, and his black eyes bored into hers. "You're from around here. You didn't know about me and this?"
"I don't get out of the house much," she said honestly.
Andre grunted and got out of the truck. If she knew how to hotwire vehicles, she'd have been tempted to stay where she was. But if he knew that she knew he was the Bear, or if he wanted to kill her, wouldn't he have done so already? Wouldn't she already be lying dead in the ditch?
He wasn't going to hurt her. She knew that deep inside of herself, but there was a niggling voice at the back of her head that told her to be afraid.
There was bad blood between Bears and Wolves. Mary didn't know when or how it started, but she had heard stories of how Bears were monsters from the time she was a small child. Her mother's grandfather had been murdered by one on the journey from Russia to the Americas. Both her father's parents were killed by Bears. And Andre had just attacked her for no apparent reason, other than she was a Wolf himself.
Well, she couldn't stay in the truck. And somehow she knew she would be perfectly safe as she followed him through the darkness.
The cabin was small, cozy even. It was lit by an open fire, nestled in a brick mantle on the wall opposite the door. A small alcove was nearby, holding a pile of dry wood. Andre bent over it, adding some logs and stirring the coals with a poker. Two doors led off the main room, one to a bathroom, the other to a bedroom.
Other than that, the cabin was total chaos. Clothes were tossed everywhere, over the single table and three chairs, on the floor. Mary's hand flew to her nose as she saw piles of molding food. A pile of dirty dishes sat in the sink.
"I wasn't expecting company," Andre grunted, eyeing her.
"It's, um—"
Mary's jaw dropped when he shrugged off his thick winter jacket. He wore no shirt (probably because they were all dirty on the floor). Smooth, taut skin stretched over large muscles. His arms were even bigger than hers! A six-pack of hard abs pressed against his abdomen and the 'V' of his waist disappeared into tattered jeans, which were slung low on his hips. Mary found herself wondering how low the 'V' actually went. Her face grew hot, and she turned away.
Andre grabbed a stained shirt off the floor and slipped it on over his head. He looped his thumbs in his belt and cocked his head to one side as he studied her.
Mary cleared her throat. "Do you think the snow will clear up enough to get to the city tomorrow in time for my flight?"
"Avalanche. It'll take some time to clean that up."
Oh. Right. Maybe she could make it if she tried to get there on foot… but she had no idea where she was. Besides, her legs and arms already hurt from the exertion earlier. She could, at least, spend the night. No harm would come of that, would it?
If I had more time to embrace my Wolf, I'd be a lot stronger.
Resentment flared in her, making her temporarily forget her situation. How dare her father and mother put so much responsibility on her that she worked from dawn until dusk? She was always the first one awake in the morning, starting the fire and making breakfast for the boys when they got up for chores. If she wasn't cooking, she was cleaning, being interrupted every few minutes by the younger children having troubles with their schoolwork or fighting with each other.
She missed helping to feed and milk the animals like she did when she was small. At least, then she was able to get out of the house other than to go to town and buy groceries! Even during the Full Moon Run every month, she had to stay home with the babies, helping ease their pains from their first involuntary transformations.
Andre kicked around some clothing on the floor and picked up a green T-shirt and sweatpants. "Here, these should be clean."
Mary's nose wrinkled as she accepted the clothing. Andre was still staring at her with those beautiful black eyes, and she met his gaze. "Thank you. But isn't there any way that I can get to the city? I really need to get to my grandmother."
"No way in this snow tonight." He gestured at a window. It was too dark outside to see what was happening out there, but clusters of snow were being blown against the panes with distinctive prickling noises, like saran wrap slowly falling apart. "It'll be blizzard conditions in no time. You should have looked at the weather before you bought your flight."
"I suppose." Mary hugged the clothes to her chest as she moved to the window, staring at the whiteness outside in despair. If she hadn't gone with Andre, she'd still be out in that and about to freeze.
Andre cleared his throat, moving past her to the door that led to the bedroom. He gestured in awkwardly. "There are plenty of blankets on the bed, nice and warm."
The bedroom was slightly neater than the main room. There were still clothes all over the floor, but no dirty dishes or rotten food, and the blankets on the bed were pulled tight and wrinkle-free. It looked like it hadn't been slept in for days. Mary laid the T-shirt and sweats over the footboard, an elaborately carved piece of wood. Cherry, she thought. Maybe apple.
"Where will you sleep?" she asked, glancing at him. It was cooler in the bedroom than the main room. Would she be warm enough? Maybe if she had a warm body beside her that she could snuggle close to… Her face flamed.
Stop it! What was wrong with her?
"I usually sleep on the floor near the fire anyway," he said. "Sleep well. We'll figure out what to do with you in the morning."
After he had closed the door, Mary searched the walls for a light switch. She couldn't find one. Her wet clothes were seeping the heat from her body, and she changed into the borrowed clothing. They were tight on her rump and breasts, and the shirt smelled slightly of sweat and animals, but the outfit was dry and warm, and that was what counted.
Mary slid into the bed. Andre was right. There were enough blankets to keep her warm. As she sank into the soft mattress, it was all too easy to forget about her troubles, her family, and the beautiful Bear that was sleeping in the next room.