On Jason's Watch [Paladin Protection Agency 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (3 page)

“She’s a what?” Jase turned from the monitor to stare at Sinjin.

“Apparently, she’s a werewolf. And one with a security problem,” Sin muttered back, clearly fascinated by the conversation they were watching via the security cameras installed in the boardroom.

Jase turned back to the monitor in disbelief. The woman was gorgeous. All those sable curls and soft curves had caught his attention the moment she’d appeared on the monitor.
Too bad she was crazy as a loon.
She didn’t look crazy, though. In fact, her body language was screaming that she expected to be called a liar. When Michelle reached out and took her hand, he could see the way she had flinched back and then stared up at her in surprise as tears had flowed down her cheeks.

“So, do we really think werewolves exist?” he asked Sin, his eyes locked onto the screen, some part of him wanting nothing more than to walk into the other room and comfort the crying beauty sitting there.

“Our best guess was that they did. We’ve already confirmed ghosts and vampires, so this isn’t a really a surprise.”

“Says you. Me, I’m surprised. Very damned surprised.” He shot Sin a sideways glance. “And when the hell did we confirm the existence of vampires?”

“I’ll tell you about that later. Today, we’re on werewolves.”

“This job keeps getting weirder, Sin.”

“Tell me about it.”

They went back to watching the meeting between Michelle and their new client, the werewolf.

* * * *

“Hey, it’s okay,” Michelle told her as she felt a tissue being pressed into her hand. “I know how it feels when you don’t expect anyone to believe you.”

“It’s not that.” She gave Michelle what she hoped was a grateful smile. Given the way her face swelled up and went blotchy when she cried, it was probably closer to a blubbery grimace, but it was the best she could manage at the moment. “You’re not afraid of me. You believe me, but you’re not afraid.”

“If you were a terrifying monster, you wouldn’t need Paladin’s help to protect yourself.”

“I never thought about it that way.” She couldn’t help but laugh at the logic. “But believe me, I can turn into a monster, and it scares me. That is why I don’t let it happen often.”

“I think I understand.” Michelle gave her hand one last squeeze and then released her. “Why don’t I give you a moment to yourself, and I’ll go catch up the rest of the group on what you’ve told me. There’s a powder room just through that door if you want to wash your face.”

“Thank you.” Jazz waited until Michelle had left before heading to the door that had been pointed out. She had to pull herself together. Stress brought out the creature she kept locked down inside her. The last thing she needed was to have to face her darker half while trying to convince a group of people she was the one who needed help from the monsters hunting her.

She washed her face and repaired the damage her tears had done to her appearance. Thankfully, she used minimal makeup, so a quick dusting of powder and a bit of eyeliner was all she needed. Jazz tucked a wavy lock of hair back behind her ear and gave herself a quick assessment in the mirror, straightening out the lines of her black pencil skirt and realigning the buttons on her cream silk blouse. Thank heavens she’d been at a business meeting yesterday afternoon. Otherwise last night’s aborted attempt to go home would have meant she’d have had to show up for this appointment in her usual work clothes. Somehow she didn’t think jeans and a
Jazz’s Gyms
T-shirt in hot pink would have made the best impression.

She heard voices in the boardroom and knew the time had come to meet the rest of the team. She already knew she was going to hire them. At least she was
if
they were still interested in taking on a monster as a client.

She walked back into the boardroom and had to stop her jaw from dropping open in shock. Two of the biggest men she’d ever seen had joined Michelle at the table, and all of them were looking at her. Sitting beside Michelle was a tall, dark-haired man who was watching her with calm curiosity. The chair beside hers was now taken over by the most stunning man she’d ever laid eyes on. His blond hair was almost crew-cut short, and his pale green eyes were watching her intently as she made it back to her chair and sat down.

“Jazz, this is Sinjin Heath. He runs our little corner of Paladin.” Michelle nodded to the dark-haired man sitting beside her and then introduced the other man. “And this is Jason Waters.”

“Call me Jase.” The blond with the gorgeous green eyes smiled at her, and she groaned inwardly as his grin revealed a pair of dimples. She was a sucker for dimples, and blonds.
Why couldn’t Paladin hire ugly guys? This is totally unfair.

She managed to untangle her thoughts enough to give both men a polite smile. “Hi. I’m really grateful you are still willing to meet with me after my explanation.”

“Later on, I’d like to hear more about your personal situation,” Sinjin told her. “But right now we’d like to hear exactly what you believe is going on with the creatures that are after you. Why are you their target?”

“There are at least four of them I’ve been able to identify. That’s a large number for these creatures. At least I think it is from my research.”

“You don’t know? I thought you were one of these werethings,” Jase broke in, clearly confused.

“I’m not the same as they are. They chose to be this way. I didn’t.” Jazz lifted her mug and took a sip to wet her suddenly dry throat. “I should probably give you all a crash course in werewolf mythology.”

“Please.” Sinjin gave her a nod. “The more you tell us, the better we’ll be able to protect you.”

“You’re going to help me?”

“Of course we are,” Jase told her, leaning in slightly, and she caught a whiff of his cologne, sandalwood. The wolf inside her stirred, and she clamped down hard on her control.
Not now!

“Thank you. I wasn’t sure you’d want to.”

“Well, we are. Aren’t we, Sin?”

Sinjin just arched a brow at Jase and then nodded. “We’re going to help you, Jazz.”

“All right, then, I guess I had better explain the difference between willing werewolves and us poor schmucks who never got a choice.”

Chapter 2

Jazz took a deep breath and started to sum up everything she’d learned in the years since she’d been transformed. “True werewolves don’t happen by accident. They come about when someone decides to make a deal with dark powers. The person becomes a servant of evil. In return they get new, supernatural abilities. These include enhanced strength, great speed, and usually enhanced senses, too. They can transform into a wolf, or a hybrid mix of a wolf and a man. The wolf is dangerous enough, but the hybrid form is lethal and combines the worst of both species. It’s a creature of pure violence, ruled by impulse and blood lust. The hybrid form only comes on during the full moon or when the werewolf is under stress. Pain, fear, rage, all of those can bring about the change, and once it happens, the only thing that can control them is the dark power they are sworn to obey.” Jazz glanced around the room and was amazed to see that everyone was listening to her intently. Jase was even taking notes as she spoke. They all believed her, every word. It was incredibly freeing to have finally shared the truth with normal humans and have them accept her.

She went back to her explanation, feeling more confident now. “Sometimes the victims of an attack survive. It doesn’t happen often, but I’m living proof it does. My family was camping in the Pacific Ranges, up near Vancouver, Canada. According to the rangers and the police, we were the victims of a black bear attack. We weren’t. My parents were killed, and I was left for dead. I was fifteen years old, and I remember what happened. I just never told anyone because I knew they wouldn’t believe me. There were two of them. A father and son. They had hiked in the day before and were staying not far from our campsite. They weren’t friendly, though, so we didn’t see much of them. They attacked us on the second night. I was sleeping in the tent. My parents were still up. I found their bodies near the camp, savagely torn apart. I believe the father killed my parents, and the son came for me. I know it was him because he was still wearing tattered bits of his clothing, and I recognized the AC/DC logo on his shirt.”

She felt an arm curve around her shoulders, and she leaned back into the contact. She never let herself relive these memories. They hurt too much. The scent of sandalwood grew stronger, and she realized it was Jase who was comforting her.

“I’m sorry. I’ve not spoken about this in years,” she apologized and turned to Jase, blushing when she realized he had moved his chair right next to hers.

“You want something a little stronger than coffee?” he offered, his voice low and an expression of concern on his handsome face.

“No, I’m fine. It’s just hitting me a little harder than I thought it would.”

“Rule number three, Jase,” Sin commented, and Jazz was almost certain he was trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, I know. Shut up already,” Jase muttered back at him and then gave Jazz a smile that made her insides melt a little as his dimples showed. “You ready to continue?”

“There isn’t much more to tell, really. I woke up the next morning with all these memories of being attacked and not a scratch on me. I found my parents’ bodies, and that’s when things go all fuzzy. I remember the attack but not what happened after I found them. They tell me I walked out on my own and some hikers found me just a few hundred yards from the park entrance. I don’t remember any of it. The authorities recovered the bodies and called it a bear attack. Everyone assumed I had somehow managed to escape. I never told anyone I’d been hurt. They wouldn’t have believed me. I was physically fine. But I knew I shouldn’t have been. I knew how badly I’d been hurt. I remembered the pain.”

She felt herself choke up and brushed away a tear before it could fall. “I don’t know why he left me alive. It almost never happens because the blood-lust is too strong. I suspect he was young and inexperienced. Maybe I was supposed to be his first kill. Whatever the reason, he left me alive, just barely. He left me hanging onto life and infected with lycanthropy. I was turned into a monster, and that saved my life. Another benefit to being a werewolf is that we heal very quickly.” She gave them all a weak smile. “I don’t even have a single scar from that attack.”

“So you’re a werewolf but without the dark-powers pact?” Michelle asked softly.

“I’m not quite as strong or as fast as they are, but otherwise we’re very similar. In my wolf form, I’m in control of my actions, but when I become the hybrid, I’m not. In that form I’m as dangerous and out of control as they are, maybe more so. I think that’s the true nature of the curse. I didn’t ask for the powers, but if I use them and hurt someone, or worse, kill someone, then over time I believe I’d be corrupted and become one of them.” Her hand curled into a loose fist on the table in front of her. “So I fight it with everything I have, every single day.”

“How often do you transform?” There was a great deal of weight put on Sinjin’s simple query.

She hung her head as she confessed. “I have to, every full moon. It happens at midnight, just when the moon reaches the meridian, that’s the highest point in the sky. I can’t control it. But I’ve never killed anyone. And I only ever hurt someone once. The first time, before I knew what had been done to me.” She felt the now familiar pang of regret that came every time she thought about that first transformation. She’d woken up in the middle of Carkeek Park, miles away from the foster home she’d just been assigned to. Cold, confused, and naked, it had taken her hours to make her way back without being seen. It was days before the muddled memories had made any sense to her, and longer still for her to accept it had been real.

“It…I mean,
I
attacked a homeless man. I would probably have killed him except he had a dog with him. The dog kept defending him, so I moved on. I woke up in a park miles away. That was not my best day.”

“You must have been terrified.” Michelle was looking at her with nothing but compassion in her expression.

“I was, and I still am. I’m scared spitless of what I’m capable of doing when in that form.”

“So if you can’t stop the change, how do you stop yourself from hurting people?”

“I lock myself up,” she answered. It felt strange to be confessing yet another of her secrets. “In the beginning I used a rental locker I modified to be escape-proof. Now, of course, I can afford to do much better than that. I converted the wine cellar in my home into a vault with a time-locked door. I go into it on the night of the full moon. Once the door is closed, I can’t get out again until the moon has set.”