“Apparently,” she replied. “If it was bad enough.”
He grabbed another handful of popcorn. “The bullet went straight through my leg, but I’m pretty sure it cracked my femur on the way out. Which is something I wouldn’t recommend, by the way, especially when you have to drive nonstop across the country.”
Her mouth curved. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“How about you?” he asked. “What happened to turn you into a werewolf?”
Rachel hesitated for a moment before answering. “I was a cop in Chattanooga, and I responded to a suspicious activity call in a graveyard. Long story short, I got attacked by a psychopathic clown with a big knife trying to kill a teenage girl. He stabbed me a couple times and I almost died.”
Knox stared at her, wondering for half a second if she was joking. But from the haunted look in her eyes, it was obvious she wasn’t. “Okay, you win.”
“Were we competing for something?”
“No.” He shrugged. “But if we were talking about most-badass origin story, you’d win, hands down.”
She snorted and ate more popcorn.
“You know,” he said. “When I thought about having this conversation with you, I had dozens of questions, but now, I find myself coming back to one question over and over.”
She regarded him, her light-brown eyes thoughtful. “What’s that?”
“Can you help me learn to control this thing inside me?”
Rachel paused, her mug of coffee halfway to her mouth, her expression hardening. “You and your hunter friends spent the past two years trying to eradicate my kind from existence. Why should I help you with anything?”
The disdain and hatred in the words stung way more than they should have. He was tempted to defend himself, but he wasn’t sure she’d even believe him. “Because I’m a werewolf like you now. Doesn’t that automatically get me into the club—or whatever you call it?”
“That would be the Pack, and no, it doesn’t automatically get you in. Not by a long shot.”
Knox cursed silently, resisting the urge to give in to his gut and say the hell with it and get up and walk out. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t. He’d spent his whole life depending on those instincts. They’d sure as hell kept him alive on more deployments than he could count. But lately, he hadn’t made the best decisions, so instead of running, he stayed where he was.
“So being a werewolf doesn’t get me anything. How about saving your life?” he countered. “What does that earn me?”
Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about? I don’t remember you saving my life.”
“How do you think I got shot?” He reached for more popcorn, tossing some in his mouth. Now that he’d gotten used to the idea of eating popcorn at 0300 hours, he had to admit it was pretty good. “I was running across that damn compound, doing everything I could to get the hell out of there without spilling any blood when I saw you. Unfortunately, another hunter saw you at the same time and decided to pop a cap in you. I got shot because I stepped in front of a bullet with your name on it.”
He waited for her to throw the bullshit flag, but instead, understanding dawned on her face, like she’d just remembered something.
“You shot the hunter who tried to kill me,” she breathed. “Why would you do something like that when you were one of them?”
Knox opened his mouth and closed it again. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a simple answer to the question. “It’s a long and complicated story.”
She shrugged. “So talk. It’s not like I plan on getting any more sleep tonight.”
“This might come as a shock, but while you can obviously go without your beauty rest and still look good, I can’t. I need to go home and crash for a few hours before I drag my sweet southern ass into work. If you’re willing to meet up again tomorrow night, I’ll tell you why I took that bullet for you. In exchange, you can teach me how to control the werewolf I’ve turned into.”
There was no sane reason for her to agree, which was why Knox was sure she was about to tell him to pound sand. He couldn’t let that happen.
“You could have killed me that night. You had me in your sights with your finger on the trigger, but you didn’t take me out,” he reminded her. “Something tells me you had your reasons, and now, I’m hoping they’re enough to make you agree to see me again.”
Her eyes pierced him. “How many werewolves did you kill when you were a hunter?”
“None,” he said without hesitation. “I won’t try telling you I didn’t see what those assholes did to your kind. To my kind, I guess. I never took part in any of it and I hate myself for standing by and letting it happen, but after I realized what I’d gotten myself into, I did everything I could to get out.”
She seemed to consider that, then slowly nodded. “Okay. Come by tomorrow night at eight. I’ll talk to you again and give you a chance to explain. But I’m not making any promises. If I don’t like what you have to say, I’ll tell the rest of my pack you’re here and let them decide what to do with you.”
He shuddered at that but refused to let his trepidation show. “Fair enough. Tomorrow night then.”
