Cold Mercy (Northern Wolves) (7 page)

Probably both.

“If it gets done faster can you call me?” She looked at him with obvious hope and Bay knew he’d be staying up late just to see how fast he could get it done. “I have eight other dogs at home that will drive me nuts for a week.”

“Sure. Why don’t we head inside, you can give me your number, and I’ll make us some hot chocolate. It’s cold out here.” The last came out in a rush.
Make some hot chocolate?
This was business, not pleasure, but he might as well have just asked her over for dinner. Though, the moment he thought it, he wanted to.

Despite the fact that her showing up here had shoved his world off-kilter. After all, his ‘dreams’ were no longer just dreams, but reality. He was a monster. And yet something about her called to him. Oddly enough, she made him feel like a normal man, even when she proved he was anything but. He didn’t typically like company. Preferred the silence and solitude. Hell, he didn’t even deal with his customers one-on-one, using Luke at the store in town as his go-between.

But with Eden, he found himself straining for a way to keep her here, to keep her talking.

She cocked her head a little at the request, but shrugged, her smile never faltering. “Sure, but you can head up the stairs first.”

Proving she’d definitely noticed him staring at her ass. Aw, hell. But the toying way she said it calmed his nerves, made him feel normal. After all, normal men looked at a woman’s butt right? He could have laughed at the thought. As it was, he couldn’t resist teasing her back. “I thought it was ladies first?”

She snorted. “It’s your house, lead the way.”

Chapter Five

Eden struggled not to laugh as Bay ducked his head slightly, his grin turning sheepish, before he turned and headed towards the house. He bumped open the back door with his shoulder and tilted his head. She probably shouldn’t have accepted the hot chocolate, though she could easily still consider it business, and if she hadn’t busted him staring up her coat while she’d been wrestling with the sled, she might have even believed it.

But she didn’t want it to be ‘just business’ anyway.

Now that he wasn’t sicker than a dog, she was getting a glimpse of his personality. A bit awkward, as if he didn’t talk much with others, but he had a sense of humor that kept trying to peek out. And damn, but he liked dogs. She was a sucker for a man who could take in a stray. Especially one who looked like he did.

Her eyebrows arched automatically when he slid out of his coat and hung it on the rack just inside the door. He was slim, muscular, with more of a geek-meets-gym look to him than body builder. But he obviously wasn’t the kind of man who liked to sit on his hands all day long and do nothing.

Bay had a subtle strength that seemed to linger around him. It was in the confident way he moved, the relaxed easy grace of a man who worked for a living. Eden wasn’t a fan of men too used to treadmills and dumbbells that they didn’t know how to work a damned saw. It wasn’t that she couldn’t change her own tires or put up a deck, but she liked partners in her life. Bay obviously didn’t shirk his work and he looked the part.

“Now who’s looking,” he teased, drawing a laugh from her.

“Mutual admiration. But I thought I was getting a hot drink?” She tugged at the zipper on her coat, refusing to blush.
Oh, no, no
. Getting busted admiring him would hardly be enough to flip her guilt switch. She hung her coat up on top of his as he headed for the stove.

The kitchen smelled like coffee, and she could see the still half-full pot on the counter. It was small, with a round table in the middle. It reminded her a little of her own kitchen. Quaint, comfy, nothing special, but home. Smuggler collapsed on a small pillow in the corner, his head resting between his paws as he stared up Bay, his little tail swaying back and forth lazily.

Damn
. She frowned. He’d made the little guy right at home here. Had he not expected the pup to have an owner? A wild dog wouldn’t have come anywhere near him, obviously he had to have guessed. Then again, she didn’t see any signs of Smug’s harness and the pup hadn’t been wearing a collar. “I put up posters all around town, notices at the vet and the shelter. I’m surprised you didn’t see them.”

Bay glanced at her, then the dog, before lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “I don’t really get out much. And well, I hadn’t gotten around to calling anywhere.”

Right. He’d been sick. But she couldn’t help but stare at the bed, see Smug’s happy-dog grin as he watched Bay. “I’m glad he found you.” She pulled out a chair and sank into it. “You made him right at home. I appreciate it.”

He shrugged again. “Couldn’t leave him out in the cold.”

Her heart thumped a little eagerly in her chest and she ignored the warmth that spread through her at that little statement. Instead, as she listened to him rustle around in the pantry, muttering something about knowing he had hot chocolate mix in there somewhere, she let her gaze drift over the table. The empty mug and a journal sitting in front of her. The handwriting was messy, scrawled haphazardly over the page as if he’d been in a rush to write everything down.

Eden flipped a page, not really reading, just passing the time, but her breath stopped as she saw the pencil sketch of herself. Damn, he had talent. It was like looking into a mirror, except the woman drawn on the page looked terrified. She leaned over the table, suddenly unable to keep herself from reading. He’d drawn her after all.

But before she could read more than a few words—something about a monster and hunger, nothing at all to do with her—the floor creaked and Eden jerked her head up to see Bay standing there, his eyes a little wide. She cringed. “Sorry.” She gestured to the picture. “You have talent, but I’m going to guess that’s not really me.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Thanks. I’m a bit of a writer. Those are just some character sketches. I hope you don’t mind.”

The words sounded stiff but she couldn’t help but grin. “Hell no. I’m flattered. Please tell me I’m bad ass and that I slay the monster.” She lifted her eyebrows, hoping to draw a laugh, but when nothing came out she leaned back in her seat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I’m nosy, it’s a flaw and—”

“It’s fine.” He smiled, though it still looked a little off. “I don’t normally share my work.”

Oh. She could understand that. Eden tilted her head towards the journal, not wanting to push, but unable to help it. Bay, here, was a mystery—a gorgeous, dog-loving mystery—and she wanted to know more about him. Couldn’t help it actually. She hadn’t been lying about being nosy. “Do you mind?”

He opened his mouth and then closed it soundlessly. Finally, he shook his head. “Just not that one. It’s really rough.”

She could deal with that. Despite her curiosity about her picture she could bug him about that another time,
if
there was another time, but she wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to at least read something. She flipped back a few pages and then frowned at the dates. Dang. Before yesterday he hadn’t written in a year?

“You work intermittently?”

He made a rough sound, almost a laugh. “Yeah. Only when inspiration strikes. Guess I wouldn’t make it as a real writer.”

She didn’t know about that. There was some good stuff here. She wasn’t normally a big reader, and definitely not first person books, they just felt weird to her. But Bay had talent. She read another paragraph, unable to help herself.

I can’t remember much of the dream. Not beyond the blood. Blood, and the woman, her hair blacker than any raven’s wings, her lips the color of blood, her eyes—utterly soulless. Black pits that sucked and pulled, I’m beginning to think she’s not a savior. More of a demon. Maybe that’s why the nightmares started. Why my dream-self is always a monster. Why I can’t remember.

“I don’t know about not being able to make it as a real writer,” she said and looked up at him, just in time to see Bay holding out a steaming cup of cocoa. “You’re good. I’d read it, and that’s saying a lot. I’m not much of a book person.”

“Thanks.” He reached forward and flipped the notebook shut, sliding it over to the other side of the table. Then he leaned forward, elbows braced on the table, his mug braced between his hands as he looked at her. “What kind of person are you, then?”

The intensity blazing behind his stare when he asked that gave her heart a solid kick and Eden found herself leaning into the table herself, answering automatically. Their conversation fast dipped into laughter. He had a quirky sense of humor, was definitely a bit of a geek, something she discovered long before he admitted to his comic book collection.

“You played Dungeons and Dragons in high school didn’t you?”

“I did. At a doughnut shop once a week with friends,
but,”
he said, throwing heavy emphasis on the last word, “I also took shop class.”

“As if that would save you from geek-dom,” she teased, but at the amused twist of his lips, she caved. “Ah, hell. I can’t talk. Through college I had a stuffed dog collection that filled two book cases in my dorm room.
But
I played hockey most of my life.”

Bay gave a soft laugh. “Guess that makes us even.”

Eden glanced at her watch and sighed. “And on that note, I should be going. I have a class coming out to meet the dogs and thankfully I have a spare sled to do a few fun runs for the kids. Thank you though for the cocoa.”

Her heart skittered as Bay rose with her, moving around the table to beat her to the door. Eden shook him off. “I’m good. Thank you.”

Then, with a whistle to Smuggler, she let herself out. But she could feel Bay’s gaze on her as she walked toward her truck, heat seeping through her coat despite the frigid blast of the winter wind.

***

Bay leaned against the doorframe watching as the white truck reversed down his drive and disappeared. He’d watched that slim body of hers slide out of her chair, tug on her coat, and trudge down to her car. He’d itched to open the door for her, follow her out, and kiss her. Damn, but something about the way those pale pink lips of hers curved into a smile had him dying to lean in and taste her.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he’d managed to restrain himself from opening the door and following her. He’d wanted nothing more than to run his hand through her hair and tilt her head back, exposing her mouth to his. His tongue dipped out over his lips, as if he could taste her, and Bay shuddered. Something about Eden Marks called to him in a way no other woman ever had.

And suddenly, without her presence, the house felt empty. Worse, Bay found himself completely alone. Of course, it didn’t help that this time she’d taken the dog. Her dog.

He made a low sound of frustration. He couldn’t very well stand here all day staring out the window, thinking about what he’d wanted to do. Hell, he shouldn’t have asked her in at all. He didn’t even know what he was anymore. A monster? Maybe a killer? But he hadn’t been able to resist. His focus shifted to the shop, the neatly shoveled path that stretched from his house out to where the sled would be waiting for him.

But he didn’t want to work. As much as feeling the wood beneath his hands might normally settle him, he knew it would do nothing today. He’d sulked long enough and now with the house silent, he didn’t have any more excuses left. Bay turned and stalked towards his bedroom, tension strung between his shoulders in an ever-tightening knot as he approached the one room in his house he’d come to dread.

Fuck
, but he was becoming scared of his own shadow. He’d be damned if he let this rule him. Freezing in the doorway, Bay stared down at the bed. Before, he’d seen the dreams as something he’d tried to fix. Drugs, doctors, the whole nine yards and he’d gotten nothing. Now he knew why. They hadn’t been some subconscious trauma at all. At least, he didn’t think so. But if they were really true not just some half-hallucination, half- sleepwalking thing, then surely he could control it. His human half had to be stronger than the monster, right?

He just needed to figure out how.

Jaw tight, Bay took a step towards the bed. All he needed to do was stretch out, go to sleep, and just try. Maybe daylight would make it easier to get a grip on everything. Then again, maybe the monster wouldn’t even come out during the day.
Don’t know until you try, so suck it up
. Bay climbed into bed and stretched out, closing his eyes.

Exhaustion from the past several nights weighed heavily on him, but sleep refused to come. It was an elusive ghost that hovered just outside of his reaching, taunting, teasing, but Bay refused to give up. What did the beast look like? He remembered massive, white furred legs. Paws. A long snout. Bay envisioned the white wolves that had surrounded the man last night. No doubt that he looked just like them when he became this
thing
.

He pictured them, tried to remember the feeling of all that muscle and power under his skin. A memory of speed blazed through his mind, pumping through his veins and Bay blew out an excited breath as his body tensed in memory.
God, this was real
, he had a breath to think it when he felt an icy shiver roll through him, followed by a violent sensation of something being pulled down his back. Like sludge it dragged down his spine, oozing under his skin.

His fingers went numb with the sudden cold. Ice sluiced through his veins until Bay was certain that if he opened his eyes and breathed out a harsh puff of air, he’d see his breath in white plumes. Muscles aching and twisting, Bay rolled, almost as if he were in a fitful sleep, and then his eyes blinked open and he was staring at his dresser, and above it the square, ugly mirror.