Interesting.
Hearing the truth in Asil’s words, Choo took a deep breath and straightened, his body still obviously wrung with adrenaline but settling into calmness, which said good things about how well Angus watched over his wolves.
“Mr.Moreno,” said Ruby briskly, dismounting the porch rail and starting toward the door of the house without pausing to actually greet him. “The others are working on setting up our cameras and sound equipment. How about you come with me and I tell you what we are doing and why?”
Gone was the reluctant interest, the nervousness…the fear he’d seen in her. She might have been a real estate agent—or a tour guide—surface friendliness used as a barrier to prevent any real interaction. Any intimacy.
It was so forcefully done that Asil felt an involuntary smile spread across his face. Alan Choo made a small, defeated sound, as if he expected a disaster.
“I think not, Miss Kowalczyk.” The command in Asil’s voice was enough to pull her to a reluctant halt. “We need to discuss a few things first, I think. No?”
Ruby didn’t know why she stopped in her tracks. It wasn’t because he said her name correctly despite his faint Spanish accent. Spanish was about as far from Polish as it was possible to get.
No. There had been something about the way his voice hit her nervous system that caused her to do what he said without thinking about it. Power with a capital “P.” Fear had her spinning around to face him, unable to let him stand at her back even with Alan there.
He watched her face, the beautiful man, frowning a little. For all of Alan’s reaction and Moreno’s obvious ability to command her, she couldn’t feel anything odd about him. She knew when someone had supernatural abilities: witch, werewolf, or fae. She couldn’t always discern what someone was, but she could tell they were something. In this moment, he seemed no more than human.
She tried to remember if she’d felt his wolf when she’d first seen him—the way she’d understood Alan was a werewolfbefore he told her. Had she only known Moreno was a werewolf because she had been expecting one? Alan was right to be worried.
She waited for him to do something else to her—a visceral reaction. She knew what it was like to be a puppet. But he just watched her with liquid dark eyes. She stared directly at him, knowing it was a foolish challenge to a dominant werewolf. But she couldn’t help herself. If she’d been a good, obedient puppet, she’d still be a captive of the creature that was coming for her.
If this werewolf didn’t kill him for her.
She didn’t know what was supposed to happen if you stared into the eyes of a dominant wolf beyond Alan’s advice of “don’t do that.” For a moment nothing at all happened—then she felt as if a veil he held around himself pulled back and invited her in.
Her first impression, the overwhelming knowledge that drowned out all the other things she might have learned with the access he gave her, was age. Years and time so deep it caused a resonance in her bones and sent her magic humming. In response to her magic, her wrist burned as if the tattoo had caught fire.
She froze, suddenly not at all concerned with the danger in front of her, or the reaction that her instant obedience to his voice had caused in her belly. She lost the inner connection with the werewolf as her mind closed down and narrowed to one thought. He was coming. Not Moreno buthermonster.
This was not the faint touch of the beginning of a hunt—as she’d felt weeks ago. He was somewhere near—and he was so hungry. The tattoo on her wrist flared with brutal intensity, and she broke into a light sweat as her stomach roiled in terror.
“Ruby?” asked Alan, reading her reaction.
But Moreno just waited. Asil Moreno, who was now her only option for freedom because she’d left running until too late. She looked at the beautiful intruder she’d invited into the one positive thing she’d managed to do in the world and wondered if she should drag him into her own personal hell.
His lip, she noticed absently as she examined him, was starting to tighten along the edge, hiding a smile—or anger. It was hard to say. But she thought his eyes warmed a bit—though not, she thought, deeply. He held out his hands and, moving his feet minimally like a model, he spun in place until he was facing her again.
Apparently, her examination had been too obvious.
“Ruby,” said Alan again—and there was a note of warning in his voice.
“My apologies,” she told Moreno. “I—”
He shook his head and raised a hand. “Obviously there is more going on here than a blind date, Miss Kowalczyk. You know who and what I am—” He waved at Alan, indicating without words that she wouldn’t have had Alan, the werewolf, with her if she hadn’t been expecting a werewolf. “And I know you are of fae lineage.” He tapped his nose with one elegant finger as a wash of gold spiderwebbed across his eyes and faded, leaving the original inky brown behind.
She’d never seen anyone’s eyes do that; that was not how werewolf eyes turned to wolf. She became aware Moreno was patiently waiting for her response—so she nodded slowly.
“Really,” he said, his voice resigned, “I no longer expect these things to even feel like dates.” He considered her, glanced at Alan, and said, “I presume you need my help.”
Alan nodded.
“No,” she said—responding to his taking her choice away from her, even though she had already decided to move forward with her earlier plans for her date.
It was irrational to be angry with Asil for stepping up to take the role she’d prepared for him. He had driven all the way here from somewhere inMontanathinking he was going to go ghost hunting and have a nice dinner. And when he figured out they’d had different plans—he’d jumped right in with graciousness she should be grateful for.
She wasn’t grateful.
Alan’s eyes widened in mute dismay as she continued, “I don’t think my problem has a solution, Mr.Moreno. It is unfair to bring you, a stranger, into my private battle. How about I show you something of what my team can accomplish—let you finish this date without incident, as I’m informed there is a betting pool of some sort?”
