Chapter Six

 “I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me where you are?” Kalinda said, when Zoey called her Sunday morning.

Zoey picked up on the hidden meaning in her boss’s words.  Kalinda’s calls were being monitored – by the Blood Oath pack. And Dominic wanted to know where she was.

“Best if I don’t say.  By the way, what did you mean when you told Dominic there were other girls who would be better suited to him?”

“You heard that?” Zoey could feel Kalinda’s wince all the way through the phone.

“Yes. Because I have ears.”

“Oh, you know.  Flashier.  Trashier.  The type they usually like.”

“Skinnier?”

“Oh, come on.” But Kalinda didn’t say no.

Zoey paused.  There was a hurt silence.

“I was trying to help you,” Kalinda said defensively. “For the Blood Oath pack events, I hire waitresses who are less likely to be harassed by those guys.  Most of the guys like magazine model types with hair extensions and fake bazoongas.  That is not you.  Is that so bad?”

“Whatever,” Zoey said, stung.  “So…I guess I can’t work any gigs for you in the near future?”

Kalinda’s voice went brisk and business-like. “Well, if you did, I am of course under orders to report back to the Blood Oath pack immediately.  And I would never disobey a pack order.”

“Got it.  See you around, then.”

It was mildly chilly on Sunday morning, and Zoey sensed more obstacles than usual as she zipped through the streets delivering packages, but she couldn’t tell if the obstacles were specific to her. 

And the bite wound still ached, making the ride really awkward. Between the obstacles and the bite, she was much slower than usual – which meant she was only slightly quicker than an average bike messenger.

When she finished her deliveries around noon, she headed back to her tiny crash pad – but when she got to the hallway, she stopped.  She smelled coffee.   She hadn’t made coffee this morning.  In fact, there was no coffee in the little apartment.  No food, either.  She stood there for a couple of minutes before finally heading in.  What were the odds that someone would make her coffee and then kill her?

Hopefully not good.

Dominic was sitting on the tiny couch-bed as she limped through the door of the apartment.  He wore a suit, as usual, a nice charcoal gray.  There was now a coffee-maker, filled with coffee, sitting on the kitchen counter.  A smile curled his sensual mouth as she shut the door behind her.  Her heart stuttered in her chest – from fear, or anticipation? She wasn’t sure.

His gaze swept the little livingroom-bedroom.  “Hello.  Nice place you’ve got here.”

“Well, it smells better around here than my actual neighborhood,” she said irritably.  He looked mildly puzzled at that, and held out a cup of coffee.  

Right, fine, pretend that garbage doesn’t stink.  She limped over to the couch, her butt aching with every step, and grudgingly took it.

She made sure to sit on the far end of the small couch – which unfortunately wasn’t far enough. There was maybe six inches of space between them, and the warmth of his gaze made the apartment feel stifling. She could practically feel the lust waves rolling off him.  Or was it her?

 She took a sip of coffee.  He made a mean cup of java, she had to admit. Smooth and delicious.  Just like him. 

“If this whole mobster thing doesn’t work out for you, you’d make a kick-ass barista.”

He stifled a chuckle.

“What?”

His voice was deep and gravelly as he studied her with an amused look.  “Most people are afraid of me.”

She took another sip. “Put me in the ‘really annoyed’ category instead, thanks.”

“I like how you banter.  You’re funny.  I think I’ll keep you.”

She wasn’t going to dignify that with answer. “So, what brings you around here? Slumming?” she asked.

“Nope.” He shifted on the couch, angling his body towards hers, and the furniture groaned under his weight.  “I came to help you out. I could be a real asshole and let you keep limping around, or I could tell you how to heal that bite.”

She stared at him narrow eyed. “And then kidnap me?”

“Nope.”

“Nope, not today, or nope, you’ve come to your senses and realized that I’m not the one for you?”

He stood up, and the couch shifted again.  He didn’t answer her directly.   “When a werewolf bites his female, the only thing that heals the pain is his saliva. He has to shift back to human form and…use his tongue. If you’d stuck around after I bit you, I would have healed you.”

“Seriously? You thought I’d stick around after that?” she spluttered indignantly.  He just smiled.

“You’ll learn.  You miss out on all kinds of good things by running away from me.”

She looked up him.  He towered over her, his muscular arms folded across his broad chest.  And he wasn’t budging.

Was she seriously considering this?

“Turn your back. And don’t try anything funny,” she warned him, which for some reason made him laugh again.  Ha ha, she was just a laugh riot today.

She stood up and quickly stripped down to her bra and underwear, telling herself that it was just because she needed to be able to walk again without limping.  That was the only reason she was alone in an apartment, in her skivvies, with the sexiest man she’d ever seen – the man who’d claimed her as his bride.

Definitely.

Totally.

So why were her nipples pebbling with desire? Why were her panties damp?

She closed her eyes and tried to remind herself why she wouldn’t give in to him.  She pictured mountains of garbage and scampering rats.  Steering her bike around dead bodies on the sidewalk in the business district – victims of a late-night Blood Oath pack hit.   

And then she felt the soft caress of his tongue dragging down her right butt cheek, and she forgot to think.  All she could do was feel.  It felt like velvet, gliding across her aching flesh, and the pain faded instantly.

“Better?” His husky voice stroked her like a lover’s caress.

She turned around.

He was still kneeling, and he was dangerously close.  He grabbed her hips, holding her in place as he tenderly kissed her stomach.   Her soft, mushy stomach with the fold that lapped over the top of her panties. She sucked in a breath.

“Don’t,” he said sternly.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t try to make yourself less than you are. I want all of you.  Every delicious inch.”  She tried to step backwards.  He held her still while he kissed her panties – just the outside. “I won’t settle for anything less, Zoey,” he growled.

Oh, God, that was the sexiest thing anyone had ever said to her.

“You are not the boss off me.” Zoey’s legs trembled.

“Ha! That’s a good one.  I like you, princess. I haven’t laughed this much in ages.” He grabbed her panties with his teeth and tugged them down.  “You can tell me to stop any time you want to.”

He pressed his face into her damp curls.  She kept them neatly trimmed, a close-clipped golden-brown triangle.  “I-I can?”

“Yes.” He breathed in deeply, as if inhaling fragrant roses.  The hot wave of desire that washed over her nearly made her collapse.

“Here.  Your knees seem a little weak.”

He sprang to his feet and moved her over towards the couch.  Such a gentleman.  So helpful.   Somehow she stepped out of her panties while he did that.  Accidentally.

Her knees couldn’t hold her up any more, and she sank down onto the couch, legs quivering.  “So, I can tell you to stop whenever I want?” 

He knelt down in front of her and slid his hands between her legs, roughly spreading them apart.

“Yes.” He nipped her thigh gently, and a jolt of pleasurable pain pulsed through her body. “But you won’t.” Her legs quivered, and he pressed harder, spreading them even wider.  She was completely exposed to him. His warm breath fanned her sex, and he breathed in again, inhaling her scent.  She could tell him to stop…she was going to tell him, any second now…

She heard footsteps pounding up the stairs and leapt to her feet, her entire body crying out in protest.  Dominic let out a stream of curses.  Quickly, she snatched the t-shirt and pants that she’d taken off, and pulled them back on.  She kicked the underwear under the couch just as someone rapped loudly on the door.

 “Boss, it’s me! Arturo called. Said you’d turned off your phone.”

And the door swung open, and Romano stepped into the room.  Zoey stood there shivering with mingled desire and fury – at herself.  Damn it, she’d been one lick away from climbing Dominic like a tree and begging him to take her.

Dominic looked at Romano with murder in his icy blue eyes.

“I knew it was you, idiot, I could scent you,” he growled. “Eat less garlic.  And I told you to wait out front. If you’ve got a death wish, though, I’m happy to oblige.  Evisceration, decapitation? Or a good old fashioned flaying?”

“Why is she giving me a dirty look?” Romano asked, looking wounded and ignoring Dominic’s threats. “I didn’t eat her friend the other day. Did you guys finish having sex yet? Arturo needs you.”

“We didn’t have sex!” Zoey squawked indignantly.

“Ok. Sure.  I don’t know what sex smells like.” Romano gave her an exaggerated wink.  He glanced down at her pink panties which were half peeking out from under the couch.  Then he looked at her again, stuck his hands in his pockets, and started whistling.

“Why are you here?” Dominic shouted so loudly the room shook and Zoey’s eardrums popped as if she were in an airplane.

“Check your cell phone.  Arturo’s got a job for you.”

Dominic pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket.   He read the screen, sighed and shook his head. “Unfortunately, I’ve got to go kill a guy,” he said, tucking the phone back into his pocket.

Zoey looked at him in shock. He shrugged.  “You might as well know what I do for a living.”

“Why are you killing him?”

There was no trace of seduction left in his face.  He gave her a blank look, as if he didn’t understand the question. “My boss told me to.”

“And that’s it? You don’t ask any questions?”

His expression didn’t change.  “No.  Why would I?”

“So what if your boss told you to kill me?”

He just looked at her coolly.  “I’m sure you’d be too smart to give him a reason to do that.”

And he turned and walked out, with Romano.  To kill a man. 

Zoey went into the bathroom and stepped into the tiny shower stall, blasting icy cold water all over her body.  It didn’t help.

She got dressed and came out, reheated the rest of the coffee in the microwave, and berated herself for her weakness. One lap of Dominic’s tongue and she’d been ready to abandon all of her principles and make the beast with two backs with – a real son of a beast. He was a killer.  An extortionist.  And practically a stranger to her. What the hell was wrong with her?

Her gloomy thoughts were interrupted by a sharp rapping on the door.

“Depends,” she yelled. “Who is it?” Who even knew she was here? Right around now that smell-ability of Dominic’s would come in handy. 

The door rattled as someone messed with the lock. She leapt to her feet as the door swung open - and Cin, Lorenzo, and four of Cin’s friends strolled in.  Alberto, Yulia, Sarah, and Heath.

“Did you have to pick the lock?” Zoey said, annoyed. “You could have just said who you were!”

Cin shrugged.  “Gotta keep my skills sharp.”

Zoey turned her attention to Lorenzo. “Does your mom know you’re here?”

“Will you can it with questions about my mom?” Lorenzo snapped.  He never used to snap.  Zoey just looked at him, steadily, until he dropped his gaze.  “Sorry.”

“Call your mother and tell her where you are.  Or leave.”

“She’ll yell at me!” He sneaked a furtive glance at Cin, who looked faintly contemptuous.

Zoey had no sympathy. “You’ve earned it.”

Grumbling, he grabbed his cell phone and headed into the hallway.

“Is lunch ready? Real roast beef!” Cin said, her eyes shining. “I’m drooling!”

“What?”

Cin looked puzzled. “The note you sent me? By gryphon messenger?”

Zoey shook her head in confusion.  “I didn’t send you a note.”

“No roast beef?” Cin’s shoulders slumped and she looked disappointed. “Man.  I haven’t had roast beef in like a year.  My mom used to – never mind.” Tears glittered in her eyes, and she blinked them away angrily.  Zoey had a feeling that it was more than the roast beef that Cin was missing.

Then Zoey glanced at the mini fridge in the kitchen.  There was a bowl of fresh fruit sitting on top, she suddenly noticed.  It hadn’t been there when she’d headed out in the morning.  How had she failed to notice that? Because she’d been too busy melting into a puddle of lust.

“Hold on,” she said.  She went over and yanked the fridge door open.  It was full to the brim with sandwiches and cannolis and pots of tira misu.  

“Oh, my God,” Cin said reverently. “Come to mama.”

“All that food,” Heath said, eyes big as saucers.

Lorenzo came back in the room with a scowl that said his mother had chewed him out – but his face lit up when he saw that Cin was smiling.

The kids descended on the food like a pack of starving locusts.  Zoey, who was starving after biking around town all morning, joined them.  It was delicious. They stuffed themselves until they were ready to burst, Cin and her friends sitting cross-legged on the floor because there weren’t enough chairs.

Then Zoey felt guilty.  But deliciously full. But guilty.  This was food from the Blood Oath pack. She was eating murder food.  Extortion food. 

The food was delicious, but wrong.  Just like Dominic.

It also disturbed her that Dominic knew where to find Cin and her friends.  That was why he’d sent them the note and steered them to her crash pad, she realized. Typical mobster - he was sending a message.  A veiled threat.  I know where your friends live.  I can make life easy for all of you – or hard.

Damn it.

“So you got the message from the Gryphon delivery service,” she said. 

“Yep,” Cin said cheerfully.  “We were hanging outside the squat and the Gryphon flew right over us and dropped it off.”

“The person who sent you that gryphon –he’s someone to be avoided.  He was sending you the message to get to me.  To let me know that he knows where you live.”

Cin and her friends exchanged uneasy glances. 

“I know you move around pretty often.  I hate to ask, but I think it’s time to relocate.  Could you possibly stay on the east side?”

  The two packs stayed out of each other’s territory – wandering over into rival territory was an invitation to disappear.  So if Cin and her friends crashed in the Bianchi pack territory, Dominic couldn’t get to them.

And the Bianchi’s wouldn’t object or even notice. The sad advantage of being street urchins was, neither side cared what the kids did or where they slept.  Since the Portal opened in the 1950s, the city had lost about a quarter of its population and there were empty buildings everywhere.  It wouldn’t be hard for them to find a place to crash.

“I guess we could,” Cin shrugged.

Who is it? “You need me to take care of this jerk for you?” Lorenzo puffed out his narrow chest.

Cin hid a smile.  Zoey forced herself not to laugh.  “No, I’m afraid this is something I need to address on my own.”

“All right.  But if you change your mind, just say the word.” He did his best to look fierce, and Zoey nodded appreciatively.

Cin shrugged.  “We can stay at the old warehouse on 117th and Lombard.”

Zoey nodded.  “Yes, do that then.  And take all the leftover food.”

“Seriously?” Cin squealed.  “Best day ever!”

She watched them enthusiastically filling up their backpacks, feeling a tightening frustration that a day with a full stomach was the best day ever for Cin.