The Dark-Hunters (315 page)

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she said, trying to extricate her hand without hurting him more.

He frowned at her as he rubbed his head.

She reached out to help, only to have him move away. No sooner had she stepped away from the door than it crashed open. Marguerite turned to see the angry middle-aged woman there who’d been in the bar.

Wren made a strange growling sound low in his throat.

“She has to leave,” the woman said in a voice that brooked no argument. “Now.”

“I want her here.”

“I don’t give a damn what you want,” she said, her voice laden with a French accent. “This is my house and—”

“I pay you enough.”

“No,” she said, her tone filled with venom, “you don’t. Not for this.”

The last thing Marguerite wanted was to get him into trouble. “It’s okay, Wren. I’ll go.”

The anger on his face actually scared her. Wren cast a scathing glare at the woman, then escorted Marguerite downstairs to the back door.

“I’m sorry about this,” he said as he led her out of the house and back to her car.

“It’s okay. I’ll see you later.”

He nodded, then opened her car door for her. After enclosing her inside, he placed his hand on her window, and the look of longing on his face tore through her.

She put her hand up on the glass to cover his and offered him a smile.

As she started her car Wren stepped back, and watched until she’d pulled out of the lot before he went back inside.

He met Nicolette in the parlor. Aimee stood just behind her mother, looking completely contrite.

“You ever threaten one of my sons again and I will see you dead, tiger.”

He gave a bitter laugh at that. “You can try, bear. You won’t succeed.”

Nicolette held her temper as Wren left her and headed up the stairs.

“It wasn’t his fault,
Maman,
” Aimee said. “I told him she could come—”

Nicolette backhanded her. “You ever threaten the safety of this house again, and I will see you cast out. Do you understand me?”

Aimee nodded.

“Papa?” Nicolette shouted for her mate.

He came in from the door that led to the kitchen.
“Oui?”

“Summon the council. I think it’s time we see about putting the tiger out of our misery.”

Chapter 5

Wren was standing in the small bathroom outside of his bedroom, cursing as Marvin threw water at him.

“Stop it, Marvin,” he snapped at the playful monkey, who was now making faces at him. “You know I hate it whenever water gets in my eyes.”

He couldn’t stand to be blinded. None of his species could, which was strange when one considered the fact that they did like to play in water.

They just hated any and all weaknesses. A weak tiger was a dead one.

His father was dead proof of that.

The door, which Wren had left slightly ajar, opened to show him Aimee in the hallway. “What are you two doing?”

Wren pulled the comb from his hair. He looked about for someplace to retreat to, but the only way out was through the bearswan. He hated that she had caught him. He didn’t want anyone to know what he was doing.

Aimee entered the room and closed the door behind her. Cocking her head to one side, she studied him with a gimlet stare that made him extremely uneasy.

Marvin jumped up and down on the sink, chattering.

“You’re trying to unmat your hair, aren’t you?”

Wren didn’t say anything as he set the comb down beside Marvin. It was none of her business.

“It’s because of that human female, isn’t it?”

He tried to move past Aimee, only to have her block his way.

“It’s okay, Wren,” Aimee said gently. “I won’t tell anyone about her. Believe me, I understand all about impossible relationships.”

Yeah, he’d caught her with the wolf Fang a week ago. The two of them had been about to kiss. If anyone other than Wren had discovered her with Fang, Fang would have been killed or at the very least seriously mangled. But luckily for them, Wren couldn’t care less who Aimee took to her bed. It was none of his business anyway.

She picked up the comb from the counter. “You want me to help?”

Part of him wanted to growl at her and send her scurrying away, but the other realized that help would be kind of nice. “You can try,” he muttered. “But I think it’s hopeless.”

He’d been trying for over an hour to comb through the mess of his hair, and so far he’d only met with failure and pain.

And all because he wanted …

He wanted the impossible. For one moment in time, he wanted to feel a woman’s hands in his hair, and it wasn’t Aimee he ached to feel there.

He wanted Maggie.

Aimee’s face softened as she tried to get the comb through a small matted lock. After a few minutes of trying that only resulted in her breaking the comb in half, she let out a frustrated sigh.

“All right, Wren, what we need is a specialist. Let me call Margie in here to help. She’s the best at getting matted hair untangled. If anyone can do this, she can.”

As Aimee started out the door, Wren stopped her. “Why are you being so nice to me?” None of the other bears had ever been really nice to him. Most of them barely tolerated him.

But Aimee had always been kind.

She offered him a smile. “I like you, cub. I always have. I know you’re not dangerous.… I mean, I know that you could kill us, that you are dangerous, but that you don’t pose an unfounded danger to anyone other than yourself.”

“But you still fear me.”

Her eyes softened as she looked at him. “No. I fear
for
you, Wren. There’s a big difference.”

He frowned in confusion at her words.

She let out a tired breath. “You don’t like anyone around you, cub. I know you do inappropriate things just to make people leave you alone, and I fear what you will do one day that could cause the others here to turn on you permanently.”

She glanced to Marvin, who was watching her as if he understood and agreed. “I know the ferocity of your people. I know Bill sent you here to keep your father’s clan from killing you before you could defend yourself. Believe it or not, I don’t want to see you hurt. Everyone deserves some happiness in their life. Even tigards.”

Those words touched him deeply. No wonder the wolf was so attracted to her. For a bear, she had a good heart. “Thanks, Aimee.”

She nodded, then left. Marvin started chattering at Wren as he tried to detangle his hair again. The monkey didn’t understand why Wren was trying to change himself. It didn’t make sense to Marvin.

“I know,” Wren said to the monkey. “But I want her to be able to touch me without it grossing her out. One day you’ll find a Marvina of your own and you’ll understand.”

*   *   *

“Oh my God, Margeaux! You have got to see what’s outside in the hallway!”

Marguerite looked up from where she was packing her books into her backpack to frown at Whitney, whose next class was three doors down. “What?”

“He is the cutest guy on the planet. I swear, I’ve never seen anyone hotter. He must be gay. No straight man
ever
looks this yummy.”

“Oh, doesn’t that just piss you off?” Tammy asked from the next seat. “You should try being an art major. All I ever saw as an undergraduate was men looking for other men. It’s why I’m in law school now. I need a profession where I might actually run across a dude wanting a female.”

Whitney gave Tammy a droll stare for the mere fact that she had spoken without invitation. Marguerite, on the other hand, adored the Goth student, who always had the most interesting stories on Monday morning.

Marguerite smiled at her. “Okay, Tammy, since you’re the resident expert on men, go scope him out and tell me what you think. Whose team does he bat for?”

By the time Marguerite had the backpack on her shoulders, Tammy returned with a thoughtful scowl on her face. “I don’t know. It’s too close to call. Psycho Prep is right, he’s stunning. Offhand, I’d say straight, ’cause he has this ‘do me’ factor all over him that makes you want to take a bite out of his succulent flesh. That being said, he’s dressed in a black silk shirt that’s open at the neck, sleeves rolled back on his arms, and it’s left untucked. Of course he does have a really cool tat on his left arm. But…”

Tammy wrinkled her nose. “He has on black slacks and really, really expensive black Italian loafers. Ferragamos, I think. Gotta say that sets off my gaydar big-time. Straight men don’t normally dress that good. Not to mention he has one of those expensive haircuts, but at the same time it’s kind of shabby. He’s not really watching anyone, male or female, who walks by. It’s weird. So I’d say our team has a fifty-fifty shot he bats for us. Or maybe he’s a switch-hitter.”

“Oooh, a mystery,” Marguerite said as she headed out of the classroom to see him for herself. “Let me see what I think.…”

There was quite a stir in the hallway as women gawked or tried to be inconspicuous in their ogling of him. At first all she could see was the top of his blond hair over the crowd.

It was hard to navigate through the estrogen sea of women who wanted a closer look at him. And as she made her way closer, Marguerite had to admit he was completely stunning. She was far from immune to the “‘do me’ factor” that Tammy had mentioned.

His face was perfect, with full, sensual lips that just begged for a hot kiss. He had high cheekbones and a patrician nose. His dark blond hair was shorter in back than in front, with pieces of it falling strategically into his eyes to add an air of mystery to him. He looked extremely uncomfortable as he held a bouquet of roses and a large box of Godiva chocolates. His skin was a deep, tawny gold.

It wasn’t until he took a step toward her and she saw the exact color of his turquoise eyes that recognition hit her square in the chest.

It couldn’t be.…

“Wren?”

He didn’t pause until he stood before her and offered her that familiar hesitant smile before he literally nuzzled her cheek, then gave her a light, gentle kiss.

Tammy paused beside them and cleared her throat. “Switch-hitter?” she asked.

Marguerite laughed. “Oh no. This one is definitely on our team, trust me.”

Tammy high-fived her. “You go, girl. Make sure you score a few home runs for our side.”

Wren frowned as Tammy headed off. “Should I ask about that?”

Marguerite laughed nervously. “No. I would definitely prefer that you didn’t.”

His scowl only increased as he handed her the flowers and candy. “I got these for you.”

It was so strangely corny and clichéd, and yet it made her heart pound that he had done it. No man had ever given her flowers and candy before. “Thank you.”

Biting her lip, she reached up and brushed at his new hair, which was incredibly silky between her fingers. The soft texture reminded her more of an animal pelt than human hair.

It looked really good on him, but part of her missed the old Wren. “What did you do?”

Uncertainty darkened his eyes. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I think I do.” She’d known he was cute, but she’d had no idea he was so incredibly sexy. There was something about this new Wren look that made her even hotter than the old one. Who knew a haircut could make such a difference?

“You didn’t do this for me, did you?”

He looked away sheepishly.

Warmth flooded her. “You didn’t have to cut your hair, Wren. I liked it the other way, too.”

He glanced around at the women who were slowly dispersing. “I didn’t want to embarrass you anymore.”

She reached up and pulled his face down so that she could press her cheek to his. The masculine scent of his skin and aftershave set fire to her hormones. But it was his sacrifice that set fire to her heart.

“You’ve never embarrassed me, Wren,” she whispered in his ear. “I don’t think you ever could.”

Wren couldn’t breathe as the scent of her washed over him. It was all he could do to control himself. The feeling of her skin on his … of her hand on his cheek … It was wonderful. Her touch scalded him and it touched the tiny part of him that was human. More than that, it touched his animal heart and tamed it. He never thought he’d feel anything like this.

He was at peace. Calm. Soothed. There was no pain. No past. No taunts echoing in his head.

All there was inside him was Maggie and a foreign, giddy joy the likes of which he’d never known.

It was a feeling he didn’t want to end.

To his instant dismay, she pulled back to look up at him. “So how did you know to find me here? Are you like some freaky stalker?”

Wren grinned at that. Honestly, the animal in him could track her with ease anywhere on this planet. She had a unique scent of woman and tea rose laced with the Finesse shampoo that she used. But it would probably scare her to know that she could never hide from him.

“Your schedule was in your backpack. I looked at it before I returned it to you yesterday.”

She offered him a shy smile that made him harden before she bent her head down to smell the roses he’d brought for her. He reached out to touch her.

“Who’s your friend, Margeaux?”

Wren withdrew his hand instantly as he recognized one of the women who had gone to the bar with Maggie on the night they’d met.

Marguerite turned to see Whitney behind her, eyeing Wren speculatively. “Whitney, meet Wren.”

Whitney looked confused by that. “Wren? The grubby busboy who had Blaine arrested?”

Marguerite was quick to defend Wren. “Blaine started the fight.”

She doubted Whitney heard her, since she was eyeing Wren like a hungry tigress who had spotted a pork chop on a plate. The only problem was that the pork chop belonged to Marguerite, who had no intention of sharing him with anyone.

She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and pulled him away. “Wren and I have a date. We’ll see you later.”

Wren leaned down and did that warm, wonderful action of gently nuzzling her cheek before he covered her hand with his and led her toward the exit.

*   *   *

Wren still didn’t really understand why he’d sought out Maggie. Humans had never held any real interest for him in the past. As a Katagari male, he shouldn’t be so attracted to her. At least not anything more than physically.