Claiming Ana (3 page)

* * * *

There had been few times in his life when Howl had lost all his common sense. When a guy grew fangs and fur three days out of a month, he had to be careful to control his more base nature. Even after knowing Ana only hours, her taste was already overwhelming his senses. She pressed that lush body against him until he could feel every dip and curve. The need to touch her, claim her, drove him crazy with desire.

Her hands left his neck to slide down to his waist. Her fingers were warm as they tugged his shirt up to find the skin beneath.
Seems like Ana has changed her mind about that theory.

He slipped the band from her hair and filled his hands with the inky black curls. “You taste incredible.”

“Not so bad yourself.”

“See. No way we could stay in the friend zone.” Tilting her back, Howl took the kiss even deeper. Turning, he lifted her up to sit on the table and moved in close.

She wrapped her jean-clad legs around his waist. “Screw the friend zone.”

Her breath came in gasps when she spoke close to his ear. The scent of jasmine and woman snaked around him, arousing him to a painful state of hard. Behind his lids, his eyes began to burn.
I can’t be changing.
Still, his body had felt off since he’d met her this morning. His wolf wanted to claim her, change her.
Now.
He felt the ache slither along his spine under the brush of her fingertips. The shift was close. So close, rippling underneath the surface of his skin.
No! The full moon isn’t until tomorrow night.

Ana’s phone rang and she pulled back.

“I should get that.”

“Sure.” A little frisson of pain radiated down his right arm. As much as he hated to admit it, distance sounded real good right about now. Just before the change the pain would be so intense it would be a living, breathing beast tearing him apart. Then would come the shift. Bones would break and reform. Skin and muscles would tear and stretch. He had twenty minutes, maybe half an hour. He had to get home before the shift was complete.

* * * *

Ana hopped down from the table, walked to the counter and picked up the cordless phone. “Hello?”

“Hey there, sugar.”
Jace.
Talk about timing.

“Hi, Jace. How can I help you?” Ana glanced in Howl’s direction when he growled something under his breath. She tugged her blouse down to cover her waist. He was glaring at the phone. She met his eyes with a look of regret. She knew the feeling.

“We’ve got an injured calf down here. Wrapped its leg in fence wiring ’til it damn near cut it off. Can you come down and take a look at her?”

She sighed, resigned to the task. “Okay, sure. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” She pressed
end.
“I’m sorry. There’s an emergency with one of the cows at the Star. I have to go.”

“I understand.”

“Howl. I—” She stepped into his arms again. Pressed against the length of his body. “One more.” She threw herself into the kiss, but ended it quick and light. “Can I see you again? Tomorrow?”

“I’ll swing by around noon.”

“Okay.” Ana walked him to the door, waving to him as he climbed on his bike and pulled out of her driveway.
What the hell have you gotten yourself into?

3

Ana stood on the front porch of the big house at the Star and watched Jace dismount from his horse Crackerjack. Lack of romantic inclinations aside, she couldn’t deny he was just about as hot as country boys came.

It was easy to remember why as a girl she had fallen for him. Dark looks, beautiful green eyes, well-built. Cade and Drew were equally pretty to look at, thanks to their Irish and Cherokee ancestors, but there was something different about Jace. Something had drawn her to him like a magnet. She recalled the gentle way he’d cooed and fawned over the calf while she’d checked out its injured leg. As he walked toward her, she noted the lethal grace and remembered the years between them. Too many. Jace was a mix of contradictions.
Why do I always fall for the dangerous ones?

“I don’t like him.” Jace kept the reins tight in his hand as he led his horse toward the barn. “And I don’t trust him.”

Ana fell in step with him and followed. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Bull. I saw Raven’s bike outside your place when I drove by.”

“So? There were a lot of people at my place today.”

“You might pull that crap with Cade, but not me. I know you, Ana. I remember what your eyes look like filled with heat. I’ve seen pleasure light your face, felt it quake through your body and ripple through mine.”

She wasn’t completely immune to the memories conjured with Jace’s words, but they were nothing more than lost dreams. He stopped walking, turned and leaned in close as if to kiss her. Ana put a hand flat on his chest to stop him.

“Jace, don’t. That’s not who we are anymore.” She’d been afraid of this. Jace had barely been home a week when he had found his father murdered. A month had passed since then. Ana had assumed his flirty talk and teasing had been his way of returning to their easy friendship.

Jace stroked a finger across her cheek and brushed away a stray curl. His touch was warm, familiar, but failed to move her as Howl’s had. “I miss you. I miss us.”

“There is no us. Not anymore. I can be your friend, Jace, but I can’t survive you again. I just can’t. Don’t make this harder than it has to be. I’m glad you’re home, but we ended things a long time ago.”

“He’s going to hurt you. And when he does…” A bolt of lightning streaked across the darkening sky. “You should go before the storm rolls in. Listen to the weather radio. Just in case.”

She took his hand in hers, felt the callouses from working with his hands. He was raw and honest, but he wasn’t hers. “You mean a lot to me.”

“But you don’t love me.”

“Not that way. Not anymore.”

He smiled wistfully. “Worth a try. Right?”

“There is someone out there for you. She’s going to understand you, every part of you, every secret, and love you more than you can imagine. I know that with all my heart, but she isn’t me.”

“I still don’t like him.”

She laughed. “I know, but I do.” Ana leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Bye, Jace.”

“See ya ’round.”

* * * *

Howl’s bike roared into the driveway of the Parker place as the first fat raindrops fell. Thunder rolled and rumbled. He killed the engine and pushed the motorcycle behind the house. Fumbling with the lock, he managed to get the key in the door and let himself in, stripping out of his clothes as he went.

He kicked the door shut as a wave of white-hot pain raced the full length of his spine.
Damnit! No. Got to get to the basement. Now.
He was shifting outside the moon phase. Fighting the agony racing through his body, Howl ran for the basement.

Reaching the stairs, he yanked the door open and hurried into the dark. He pulled the string to turn on the light bulb. His hip snapped and cracked. Breaking legs collapsed under his weight as the shift reached completion. Throwing out his arms to break his fall, he crawled across the concrete floor. Claws replacing fingernails, he reached the iron shackles bolted into the stone wall. He fastened one as he blacked out from the pain.

* * * *

Pressing his snout to the wet earth, the wolf breathed deep.
Mmm, she’s close.
The musky scent of his mate lingered here.
Ana.
Hackles rose as another more dangerous scent laced the air.
Hunter.
Ears pricked up as a crack broke the country silence, followed by agony. Lightning-hot metal burrowed deep into soft flesh. Pain ripped through him as he began to run toward his mate. An anguished howl turned to human scream as werewolf shifted into man.

Clutching his arm to his chest to keep his shoulder still, Howl ground his teeth against the white-hot pain. It wasn’t often he retained his human conscience while in wolf form, but this time he remembered the few moments before his shift from wolf back into a human.

How could the change have come outside of the full moon?
It wasn’t like he had a guide to go by, he thought bitterly, figuring the injury must be enough to shift him back into human form.
Sure, let’s just drag out the old magic werewolf book and see if it says anything about silver bullets, or shifting to heal. Yeah, right.
Not bloody likely, but right at this moment, he would be willing to pay a fortune for a manual. If he had a fortune, which he didn’t. Grimacing, he sank down at the base of a pine tree and leaned his head back, panting with a combination of lethargy and searing pain as a little moan slipped free. Not just any bullet.

Silver. Cursed. I’m forever doomed to this existence, until Van finally does kill me.

Hell, things had been quiet lately. A little too quiet, honestly, but after the close call in Birmingham, he had stumbled into some work for the chief of police in Shady Creek. It seemed like the perfect little backwater town to get lost in.

How does he keep finding me?
It should have been safe to hide here for a little while. Run down some leads. Officially, Cade was out of the investigation of his father’s murder. Unofficially, the county cops were clueless. He’d dug up a lot more in a few days than they had in a month. He was close to having the answer Cade wanted, but wouldn’t want to know. Sam Murphy was into horse racing and he’d gambled heavily on the wrong horses.

Howl rapped his head against the tree once, instantly regretting the stupidity of his temper.
I should have known better.
Shady Creek, Alabama had its nosy gossips, same as any small town. One of them had told Van Michaels where to find him.

Howl shook his head in disgust. The move caused a wave of dizziness to sweep over him. He
breathed through it, and fought the urge to toss up his dinner.
How did I get free?
So afraid of hurting someone once he shifted, he was always careful to shackle himself during the moon cycle when a change might come.
Not tonight
. He hadn’t known there would be a need. He had been so caught up in Ana’s kiss. Once he had felt the shift coming, there hadn’t been enough time to chain himself completely.
Did I attack someone while wolf? How did I transform without the full moon? How did he find me this time?
A lot of questions without any answers. The wolf hunter wasn’t his immediate problem.
Silver freaking bullets. Bastard’s playing for keeps this time.

Howl cringed, listening to his breath heave over and over in the night. The feral sound of weariness and pain melded with the chirping of crickets, night birds, and all of the other wild things that crept in the dark around him. Slow fire burned in his veins with each pump of blood through his heart. Some myths were rooted in fact, it seemed. Another reason there ought to be a werewolf manual.
Ten ways to remove a burning lump of metal without passing out or making a doctor suspicious of your “condition.” Wonder where sexy veterinarians fit in.

He almost laughed, but caught himself just in time. Van was still out there, somewhere close. The scents of gunpowder, clean male sweat and soap lingered in the air.
Still hunting me. Mustn’t make it easier. Oh, no, can’t.
He recognized the danger of his scattered thoughts. Already, the silver embedded in his arm was spreading poison through his bloodstream.

Howl got his feet under him and pushed upright, the bark of the pine scratching his palm as he balanced himself. Sweat dripped on the back of his hand. The silver would burn him alive if he didn’t find help soon. His blood would start to boil, evaporating until only the shell of his body remained.
I need Ana.
He tilted his head back and looked at the almost-full moon. Was he still in Parker’s woods? If so, he might be able to make it to the farmhouse and get the slug out himself before he collapsed.
Ana’s cabin should be close by.

He mustered the energy to study his surroundings. Everywhere, nothing but trees. And from the storm earlier in the day, branches littered the ground. His stomach sank in desperation. There wasn’t anything to give him a clue as to his location. He twisted at the crunch of a branch in the distance. A sharp, lancing pain shot through his shoulder and radiated down his arm. Forcing back bile, he breathed through the pain.

How far would he get before he lost consciousness? His arm felt like stiff dead weight, detached from the rest of his body.
Damn silver.
At the rate the poison from the metal was spreading, time was his greatest threat. Lightning crackled overhead, promising yet another wave of storms.
More rain. Fucking great.