Derik's Bane

And you'll pay for it, ass face. What the hell are you going to tell her? And when? Jerk.



So so good. Like, once in a lifetime good. And her poor mom! I'm glad she told me. Imagine living with—



Stay focused. Jerk.



And oh Jesus, her smell, and the feel of her, the way she held on and whimpered and squirmed, the way—



The way you were a jerk. The way you didn't tell her she didn't have to. The way you didn't want another sleepless night.



Well, look at it this way, he thought. Maybe she'll destroy the world, and I'll never have to tell her tonight was completely unnecessary.



Nice,his inner voice—Michael's voice—said snidely.Maybe billions will die so you don't have to face the music. You're sick, dude.



23



Derik rolled over and saw Sara sitting on the edge of the bed. "Didja blow up the world yet?" He mumbled, scrubbing his face with his palm.



"Stop asking me that. And the answer is no." She took a sip of her coffee and grinned at him. "So you have to get up,"



"Aw, man..."



"It's ten o'clock in the morning! I'm pretty sure the good guys don't laze away in bed, giving the bad guys plenty of time to plan."



"Ummm . .. can I have a sip of your coffee?"



"Touch my cup and die. Jon's got a whole pot out in the kitchen. Besides, I put a ton of sugar in mine, and you don't like that."



He yawned. "How'd you know that?"



"I pay attention, numb nuts. Rise and shine."



"Ummm . .. c'mere."



She scooted out of his reach. "None of that, now. It's time to go." She smiled at him again. He supposed that in the movies the sun would be shining on her and she'd seem all godlike and bright to him, but this was real life, and so she only looked really really good. She was wearing a scoop-necked T-shirt that tantalized him with her cleavage, and when she smiled, her eyes lit up and looked like the deep end of a pool on a hot day. "Play your cards right, though, and maybe we'll stop early for the day."



"It's a date," he said, and bounded out of bed.



She nearly spilled her coffee. "Jesus! A little warning before you do that."



"Wait until I've had my coffee. Then you'll see something." He yawned again and scratched his ass, then remembered someone he wanted to impress was in the room, and stopped. "Sleep good?"



"After you wore me out last night? I'm sort of surprised I didn't slip into a coma around two A.M."



"Awww," he said, and twined one of her red curls around his finger. "That's so sweet." He let go, and it bounced into her eye.



"Ow!"



"Oh, shit! Sorry."



"As a tender moment," she informed him, "that left a lot to be desired. Go take a shower."



"Come with me," he wheedled.



"Forget it," she said. "Better hurry, or all the coffee will be gone."



They were finishing breakfast when Jon snapped his fingers, said, "Forgot," got up, left, came back. "Picked this up for you when I went out," he said, and slid a glossy magazine across the table.



"Oh, dude! Thanks! I've been waiting for this one." To her complete and total amazement, Derik started thumbing through the current issue ofFine Cooking. "I don't even know why I subscribe to this thing, it's really hard to wait for it to show up in the mail. I always end up buying it on the stands, too. Oh, well, I can always sell the extra ones on eBay."



"What just happened?" she asked.



"If you're going to be with Derik," Jon said, "you must also be obsessed with cooking."



"What? Seriously?" She looked at the big, strapping blond across from her. "Big homemak-ing fan, are you?"



"No," Jon said as Derik became absorbed in an article on cilantro, "but he's a big cooking fan."



"I only get it for the articles," Derik said defensively.



"Didn't you notice the shirt?" Jon added, referring to Derik's black shirt with white lettering: FREE MARTHA.



"I could hardly miss it," she said, "but I thought it was some werewolf thing."



Jon snorted. "To our everlasting relief, it's not."



"Okay,this is the weirdest thing to happen to me this week," Sara said.



Derik slapped the magazine closed. "I can't concentrate with you two jabbering like apes."



"Hey, hey!" Jon protested. "Watch the language."



"Sorry. Sara, are you ready to hit it?"



She blinked. "Sure, I guess. Areyou'}"



"I'll cook for you sometime. Then you won't give me shit."



"You've been letting me slave over a hot campfire all this time?"



"I need my kitchen tools to do a really good job," he explained.



"Great. Hey, I love to cook, too. At last, something in common! Not that, as an engaged couple, we don't have tons in common," she added hastily, realizing her slip. "Because we totally, totally do. Have tons in common, I mean.Tons."



"That's quite a hole you're digging with your mouth," Derik observed.



"It's true," Jon supplied, rescuing her. "Derik's an amazing cook. His tomato-less pizza will make you cry like a tiny girl. Don't get me started on his butterscotch cookies."



Sara said nothing. For the life of her, she couldn't think of a thing. Not that she was some sort of reverse chauvinist, all "men shouldn't be in the kitchen because they're too big and strong," but it was hard to picture Derik in a KISS THE COOK apron.



The three of them stood around the table, Derik cradling his magazine, and there was a long, awkward moment, followed by Jon clearing his throat.



"Well, good luck, you guys."



"Thanks for letting us stay over," Sara said, giving him a hug. "And for the, um, reading material."



"Sure, Sara, anytime." Jon was looking at Derik. "Sure you don't want an extra pair of hands?"



"We've got it covered," Derik replied. "And by 'got it covered' I of course mean, we're pulling it out of our asses as we go along."



"But don't worry," Sara added.



"Right. Don't do that."



"At least stay through the full moon," Jon coaxed. "Rest up, figure out the rest of your plan."



"We gotta hit it, Jon. It'll be fine. We'll be in a state park somewhere when She comes up."



"Don't forget your promise," Jon said.



"We'll be back," Derik said.



"We're like terminators that way," Sara added brightly.



24



They were in another campsite, supper was done, even the dishes were done. Now they were snuggling beside the campfire, and when Sara looked up into his face, she noticed his eyes glowed back yellow-green. It was startling, yet comforting.



"You know, the thing about Jon," she began.



"Oh, good, I was hoping you were going to talk about another guy."



She ignored that. "He seemed like a regular person, you know? I mean, to look at him, you wouldn't think, 'Thar's a werewolf, git the gun, Paw.'"



"Christ, I hope not. And I guess it makes sense. There's not very many of us. And there's tons of you. So I guess we blend in pretty good."



"I mean, I see you all the time, and I forget about it a lot, unless you do something to remind me. Like this morning. I blinked, and you were on the other side of the room; It freaked me out."



"I can't help it"—he sighed—"if I've evolved as a genetically superior being."



"Oh, shut the hell up. Listen, what's the real reason you're avoiding your family? The Pack?"



"Huh?"



"Well, you just seem awfully concerned that they'll catch up with us, but not just because they'll try to ice me. So what's up with that?"



"It's . .. kind of complicated."



"Derik..."



"Well.. . you know what an alpha is, right? Like the boss of a group? And our Pack has an alpha. It's Michael. Which is totally fine. But sometimes . . . sometimes alphas aren't born, they're made. And I don't know how it happened, but in the last couple of weeks I've wanted . . . wanted things I don't deserve. At least I think I don't deserve them. And I left before things could get... well, you know."



"Oh.'



"I can't go home again. So," he added, forcing cheer, "it's just as well that this whole save-the-world thing came up, you know?"



"Well, what I don't get is—"



"Can we change the subject?"



"Uh . .. sure. So, what's the plan for tomorrow night?"



"Before or after we have hot, wild monkey sex?"



"Can we have a serious talk, here? Like for thirty seconds? Is that too much for you?"



"I can't help it if I'd rather picture you naked than talk about our feelings, or whatever."



"I'm not even talking about our feelings, you half-wit!" She saw that he was delighted he'd teased her into yelling. "Very funny. Are you gonna answer the question?"



"Well. We'll have to make sure we're pulled over by the time the sun goes down, that's all. I'll Change, you'll sleep, I'll probably bring down a couple of rabbits and then curl up next to the fire, blah-blah."



"Blahblah} This is the most surreal conversation I've ever had," she announced, "and it's been quite a week for me, in case you hadn't noticed. You'll curl up next to the fire? Like a good boy? Should we pull over and get you some Milk Bones?"



"You know," he grumped,"some people would be a little nervous about spending the night in the woods with a werewolf."



"Some people cheat on their taxes. It's a weird world." She slipped her hand under his shirt. His pro-Martha Stewart shirt. Best not to go that route, if she wanted to maintain her horniness. "So, uh, you got any plans for the rest of the evening?"