Mellizo Wolves (5 page)

Perhaps
it was. But assigning blame wouldn’t help. It was his job as the man of the
house to fix the impossible. Fate had plunked him into another tension-filled
chess game and forced him to brood over his next move. He made himself breathe
in and out while trying to gather his wits.

He had
resources. Relentless determination had assisted him in rescuing his family’s
dwindling importing empire and building it into the top-producing corporation
it was today. But those feats were child’s play compared to the miracle he’d
have to pull off to protect Angela and his unborn girls from the evil awakening
dead.

He sat
for several more heartbeats before starting the engine. Angela didn’t trust the
crystal ball as much as he did. But he’d seen the airplane’s image explode,
warning him. And, if he hadn’t taken action, the plane
would have
exploded.
Now, he felt strongly that the crystal’s image of that ashy, open-mouthed blob
was yet another warning he dared not take lightly. For his family—and even the
community who had scorned him most of his life—he must be prepared to fight
and, if necessary, suffer the life of the damned.

 
* * * *

Several
days later, sitting at her desk at Derrick Simons and Associates where she
worked as a research analyst, Angela fought a tension headache. Damon had
promised to find the spy and fire him. Would he do a probing investigation or
just ask everyone if they did it? It made her uneasy that he trusted everyone
and accepted them at face value.

On top of
the worries already weighing her down, her new division chief, Dudley Knox, was
giving everyone trouble and shooting the tension level in the office off the
charts. With a cocky gait, he strode into her office, digging the heels of his
cowboy boots into the carpet. He stopped in front of her desk and glared at the
bookkeeper, Louise.

“Louise
and I are going over the figures you had questions about.” Angela felt if
Louise hadn’t been there, he might have been civil. Her muscles tensed as she
waited for the usual cruel barrage to start. No one was safe from his insults.

The staff
should join together and file a harassment charge against him, but with being
shorthanded, no one had the time to document his offences.

He glared
up at her with nasty, squinty blue eyes. When she refused to wilt under his
scrutiny, he raked his thick, brown hair with violent fingers and shifted his
glare to Louise. “This is a working place, not a bitch hangout. Lumber back to
your office, fatty, and do some work for a change.”

The
cruel, raw words were totally undeserved. Angela ached to take him down a peg.
He turned his attention to her without quite meeting her gaze and asked, “And
where the hell are those specifications I requested?”

She
intensified her glare, hoping he felt her contempt. “On your desk,
sir
.”
She would quit, but she liked the big bosses and, besides, her sudden absence
would burden her co-workers. She stood and looked down at the little Napoleon.
“Do you need something else, Dudley?”

He
growled something under his breath and stomped away.

She tried
to make herself believe the little toad couldn’t be all bad. He’d told her his
story. He’d pulled himself up from a harsh, poverty-stricken childhood with a
cruel and violent alcoholic dad. Dudley had worked hard and made something of
himself rather than becoming a gang-banger like many of his peers. And she’d
seen his human, protective side a few times where he became an entirely
different person. Which was the real one? With two or more people in a room, he
seemed compelled to put on his employee-debasing show. Although she understood
what made him tick, she couldn’t forgive his cruelty. She shook her head. How
could she admire what he’d achieved, yet despise him so much?

His
success was another lesson in networking, the power of association, and a
determination to work toward one’s goals. Unfortunately, that grit, along with
his intelligence and quick mind, had put him in a position of power—and in a
position to humiliate and crush.

She was
glad he’d left before Katrina slinked up to her desk. Dudley always attacked
Kat’s low self-esteem, overt sexiness, and called her the office whore. Katrina
dished it right back in aces. Angela feared one day Kat’s quick comebacks would
get the hip-swaying, long-legged seductress canned. She was a hard worker, but
she had to be the center of attention when there was a good-looking man nearby.
She’d flip her long, silky hair and flaunt her wares in a sexy super-model
walk. Then she’d run her hands along her tiny waist to emphasize her big boobs.

Oh, here
it comes
, Angela
thought, watching her friend shift into her
look-at-me
mode
.
Angela
glanced past Katrina. Sure enough, the slinky walk had been for Jeff, the new
delivery hunk-of-muscles who’d just come in the door.

Angela
ignored him and turned her attention to her friend. “Whatcha need, Kat?”

Katrina
laughed. “A package from him would be a good start.” Then her expression turned
serious. “The real question is what do you need, kiddo? You look like hell. Is
that what marriage does to you?”

Angela shook
her head. “It’s just that I haven’t been getting much sleep lately.”

“Ooooo,
pounding the springs that much, huh?” She paused and chewed hard on her wad of
gum. “Guess what? My hot Italian stallion asked me to marry him. Can you
believe it?”

“What was
your answer?”

“I said,
yeah, when elephants fly. Think I was too flippant?”

“Maybe.
Are you falling for Deeto?”

“I don’t
know. He’s been different lately. He’s signed up for some college courses and
he’s been hanging around more, helping me keep the place in order. He’s even
started vacuuming and doing the laundry.”

The
deliveryman glanced Kat’s way and winked before leaving the building. She bent
and straightened her hose, displaying her full cleavage for him. Her low-neck
sweater left little to the imagination.

Angela
laughed. “Your actions suggest you’re not
quite
ready to settle down to
one man. Besides, I didn’t know educated and domesticated men turned you on. I
thought it was strictly guys with hard bodies that rang your chimes.”

“Why
can’t I have it all? You hooked yourself a smart exec with a sensational bod,
and it’s working out. Maybe I need a brainy guy. You know the type—a gorgeous,
bright guy who lifts weights and runs a couple miles before satisfying me in
bed.”

“Where’s
the love and trust is in that equation?”

“Dullsville.
Give me passion, excitement—and throw in a sprinkle of doubt to keep him
interested.” She paused. “Are we on for lunch?”

Angela
laughed again, her headache gone. “Definitely.”

“Ye Ole
Tea Shoppe across the street gets us in and out quickly,” Kat said, “and I took
a shine to their apricot-chicken salad. Now if they’d only get some
bare-chested, hunky male waiters, it’d be my favorite hangout.”

After Kat
went back to her desk, Angela wondered if her friend would ever change. After
nearly losing her life to a brutal werewolf attack, one would think she’d look
at her world a bit differently and perhaps reevaluate her priorities. Angela
laughed. What was she thinking? Kat would always be Kat, and she loved her just
the way she was—a fun, energetic original who always brightened her day.

Not ready
to settle back down to work, Angela grabbed a newspaper and thumbed through the
pages to the horoscope section. She trailed her finger down the page to the
Cancer sign, June 22 to July 23, the most likely time for her twins to be born.
It said only that those born under the Cancer sign would find changes in the
wind. She froze at the word
change,
thinking of morphing. She slammed
the paper with a whack into the trash. Boy, she’d really lost it. First she
consulted Madam Nola, and then horoscopes. Next she’d be playing with her
mother’s Ouija board.

Chapter Three

The
evening sky was dark as Damon looked out the window, watching for Angela’s car
headlights to brighten the driveway and lighten his heart. Finally, he heard
the hum of the Camry motor. He waited and counted to fifty, trying to calm his
excitement. He rushed to Angela as she entered the front door, enfolded her
into his arms, and pressed his lips to the coral sweetness. It was so damn easy
to melt into the soft moisture and delve into the minty cavern of her mouth.
Her flowery scent wafted around him, intoxicating him. He felt himself swell
with desire, and he drew her tightly against the heat of his body. With her coat
open, her soft curves fit perfectly into his hardness. She didn’t have a hint
of a tummy in her form-fitting red dress. But soon she would swell and make
room for their unborn twin girls. That thought triggered a smidgeon of sanity.
He held her away and said, “I’ve got a wild idea.”

She
laughed. “Yes, I feel it pressing against my thigh.”

“That
too, but first, I have to tell you my other idea. I’ve been thinking about it
all day. Don’t shoot me down until you hear the whole plan.”

“Okay,”
she said saucily. “I’ll shoot you down after.”

“Witty.”
He took her coat and hung it in the closet, tracing his finger over the back of
her slender neck. Trying to concentrate, he led her to the living room couch
and sat close beside her. He lifted her hands and kissed the tips of her icy
fingers slowly, one by one.

Her eyes
glinted. “Great intro, but don’t keep me in suspense. What’s the idea?”

“I want
to fight fire with science. My strategy is to hire top scientists with
specialties in geology, anthropology, and genealogy. And are you ready for
this? I want to set up a lab in the dungeon for them.”

She
looked down at the empty bourbon glass on the coffee table. “How many of those
did you have before I got home?”

“Funny,
but I’m serious. Even though I know in my heart our girls will be perfect, I
feel it’s my job as their daddy to prepare for any eventuality. I never want
them to suffer the excruciating pain we suffered, or the fears. Or let them be
controlled by raging desire and a need to conquer.”

Angela
paled and he was glad he hadn’t said everything he was thinking—that he didn’t
want some inner predator-wolf taking over their senses—nor did he want his
little darlings to get desperate enough to contemplate suicide, the eventual
solution of most of his family.

He pulled
Angela into the circle of his arms and kissed her forehead. “Part of the
science team’s job will be to inspect the inner-earth in that two mile radius,
make predictions, and suggest solutions to stop any negative activity.” He
paused. “Now, here’s the part that may sound like I’m delving into science
fiction. In addition, their job will be to come up with a serum to control
werewolf tendencies.”

She
froze. Fear flickered in her eyes. Then she took a deep breath and blew it out,
as though attempting to calm herself. “I love you for dreaming this up, Damon.
However, delving into untested serums and performing expensive research to look
for miracle drugs known only in fiction sounds a bit nutty. And I don’t want
our babies mixed up in it.”

“Remember
what Madam Nola said? She said to enjoy what we have now, build on it, and
strengthen it, or it may not last.”

“How is
that relevant?” Angela asked. “Never mind, I don’t care what she said. I don’t
relish the idea of a team of mad scientists conjuring up mysterious potions in
my home. Nevertheless, because I love you beyond reason, I won’t get in your
way.” He stroked the line of her heart-shaped face. He loved her more in that
moment than ever before.

His
stomach knotted when she added, “But don’t involve our girls.”

He
couldn’t promise that, so he said nothing. He hoped it would never become
necessary. He gave her a passionate kiss that sealed any further discussion.

When she
pressed her breasts into his chest, he felt a surge of heat in his groin. He
deepened his voice and whispered into her ear. “Come with me down into the
dungeon and let’s discuss my ideas further in privacy. Later, we can listen to
some Straus and make love in front of the dungeon fireplace. I have a picnic
set up down there. I can show you my layout and—”

She
arched a naughty brow. “Based on what I’ve seen in the past of your
layout
,
lead on, big boy.”

* * * *

A week
later, early in the morning, Damon—in jeans, denim jacket and boots—and his
five-man team of scientists dressed in beige field-garbs and boots were barely
aware of the sun rising over the purple peaks east of them.

They were
too engrossed in the atypical species of rattle snake slithering on the ground
toward Damon. It coiled upward, raising its two heads, and hissed. An instant
before it could strike, Dr. Simon Lazar shot it with a lab stun gun and then
scooped it into a net. He eased the netted unconscious snake into a clear
container with air holes and started back to the lab. “No doubt about it, Mr.
Lamont, weird changes are evident. Yesterday, we found a rabbit with a rat’s
tale and a toad with centipede legs.”