Lycan Lover

Chapter Two

Karen watched the man she’d just been dancing with walked away. Although, walking was the last thing she would call what he was doing. He was swaggering, and the fluid motion of his hips drew her attention to the way his jeans hugged his perfectly sculpted ass. His lazy stroll screamed sin, sex, look at me. Every woman he walked past did look, and she didn’t like it. Something deep inside her screamed to chase after him, but common sense held her rooted to the floor. She was not going to run after a complete stranger. Yet, the thundering of her heart argued, and her heated body begged her to do just that. She waited until the last glimpse of his broad back disappeared into the crowd before she walked back to the table.

Sal whistled under her breath. “Who was that?”

“Yeah, he was a god.” Jenny’s eyes were wide.

“I don’t know.” Karen sighed.

“You don’t know? How in the hell could you let him get away? Karen, that man was gorgeous and all over you like hot butter on popcorn.”

Karen laughed. “Okay, whatever.” She knew that as long as she lived, she’d never forget the brief encounter with the green-eyed stranger. Jenny was right. He looked like a god. “I’m going home.”

“Do you want a ride?” Jenny started to get up.

“No. You stay here with Sal and have fun, okay? I’ll call a cab. My apartment is only a few blocks from here anyway.”

The women hugged, and Karen shrugged her black knee-length coat on over her hooker get-up. She noticed a couple men glance her way as she walked out. She knew she was passably attractive, but for some reason, she couldn’t seem to find a keeper. A little over a year ago, her last boyfriend, who’d professed to love her more than life itself, had cheated on her routinely. She’d been crushed when she finally found out. Chuck had been the first guy she’d actually thought she was in love with. After throwing him out on his ear and telling him she never wanted to lay eyes on him again, she had decided to take a break from dating, believing it was the only way to clear the horrible and humiliating incident from her mind. She hadn’t regretted the decision, and really didn’t miss dating all that much. Her dreams of Green Eyes had started soon after.

She would have been lying if she didn’t admit she would like to have a relationship, companionship, and a family some day. Someone to hold her when she was sad, someone to share her days and nights with, someone to cuddle with, someone to simply care, but she wouldn’t rush into anything just because her biological clock was ticking harder. She figured if it was meant to be, it would happen. If not, she’d be okay with that too.

She pulled her coat closer as she stepped out into the cool night air. Her heels clicked on the sidewalk, and she noticed that a light fog floated down the street and curled around her ankles. She looked both ways but didn’t see a cab anywhere, which was strange since they were normally everywhere. She really didn’t want to walk home this late at night by herself.

After standing in front of the club for a few more minutes, she contemplated going back inside to use the payphone. She didn’t have a cell phone, which everyone thought was odd. She didn’t think anyone needed to get in touch with her so badly that the person couldn’t leave a message on her home phone or call her at work. In some areas of her life, she preferred to remain old-fashioned.

She looked one more time and decided to start walking toward her apartment. The sidewalk was lit by streetlights, and she knew it should be safe. She only had a few blocks, and she thought that maybe a cab would happen along.

After a few minutes, she lost hope of anyone coming along and picked up her pace. As she crossed a side street and hopped over the curb back onto the sidewalk, she noticed that the other side of the street was lined with black wrought-iron fence. The fence enclosed the old Hampton Cemetery, and she shivered a little. If it was daytime or she wasn’t alone, she wouldn’t give a second thought to such a thing as she found the cemetery a spectacular sight. But, at almost exactly the same time she had noticed the graveyard, that familiar, eerie feeling from earlier slid up her backbone, the feeling that she was being watched. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and she halted.

She tried to ignore the feeling, but it wouldn’t subside. In fact, if anything it intensified, encouraged small knots to form in her stomach. She didn’t understand why a place that she found fascinating would create such a feeling of fright in her. Most of the headstones in the cemetery dated back hundreds of years, and its crypts were historical wonders. Even though the bodies that used to reside in the crypts had been moved, the small rooms still remained. None had doors any longer and the small tombs were made of stone and consisted of two concrete shelves on one wall that had, at one time, served as final resting places.

Trying to become invisible, she shrank back against the wall of the building into the shadows and listened carefully while scanning her surroundings, barely breathing. She didn’t hear or see anything. In fact, she didn’t see anyone. There was always someone out and about at all times of the day and night in the city. She could hear no traffic, no people, no insects, nothing. The fog curled thicker and drifted around her knees. The night was completely still—too still—calm-before-the-storm kind of still.

Suddenly, gut wrenching instinct screamed at her to get out of there. She wanted to run, but for some unknown reason, she knew that would be a huge mistake. She felt like the poor baby zebra on all those nature shows that was being picked off by the lions as the weak one of the herd. Even though she couldn’t see her stalker, she knew he was there, yet she had no intention of being his next meal. Fear clawed its way through her stomach, knotted it harder, and bile burned the back of her throat. She fought hard not to panic.

She inched a few more feet down the sidewalk, back against the rough stone of the building. She tried to move silently, but every scrape of her coat against the surface seemed amplified in the silence. She still saw nothing that posed a threat, but her inner alarms were screeching, and she wasn’t one to ignore them. She only made it a few more steps before she stopped and stared across the street.

A huge oak tree stood just inside the black iron fence. It had to be fifteen or twenty feet in girth and the dense branches curled like gnarled fingers with foliage for fingernails. She stared at it, not sure why. Suddenly, another shiver jolted her and she knew she’d been right. Someone was watching, her and even though she couldn’t see who it was, she was sure he was near the tree. And, damn her luck. Nearly Halloween, alone on a foggy street, with somebody watching her, and a full moon peeked through the clouds.

He didn’t know if it was amusement or astonishment, maybe a little of both, that he felt when she stared across the street. She knew he was there. He’d been watching her for months, and for the first time, she gave a sign that she was aware of his presence. Maybe the dance they’d shared earlier had something to do with her newfound awareness of him.

He’d invaded her dreams and followed her, waiting until it was the perfect time to claim her. She was his and he would have her. Yet, he didn’t want to hurt or scare her. He knew he could do both without even meaning to, and she was terrified. The fear rolled off her in waves. He could smell it, and he didn’t understand the reason for it.

He watched her, his body taut, ready to defend his mate against whatever was scaring the hell out of her. The predator in him was in hunt mode. He knew that even though she was staring at the tree he was presently occupying, he was not the source of her fear. A gentle breeze stirred the uncannily still night, and another scent invaded him, revealing the source of threat. His lips curled back from his teeth in a snarl as he scanned the area. He knew what had her so upset.

Another of his kind was in the area and too close to his woman. He didn’t know if the other werewolf was aware of his presence, but he knew damn well he would rip the bastard to pieces if he got any closer. Every instinct screamed for him to snatch Karen off the street and take her somewhere that he could keep her safe and protected always, but instinct and his desire to meet his mate’s needs warred with one another. Karen would definitely not be impressed by caveman tactics, and he wanted her to trust him.

When he had discovered her nearly a year ago, he had wanted to claim her right then and there, but found out about her pact to stay single for a while after the last jerk she’d dated cheated on her. He wanted to rip the bastard’s head off and found it very hard to contain his protective instincts where she was concerned. He had been born in a time when men owned their mates and, as they saw fit, provided for and protected them. That was a long time ago, and things were different. Women were different, independent. None of it really mattered anyway, because he had never had a mate until now.

He’d had other women over the years, but not one had meant anything to him other than a means to assuage his body’s needs. His kind was fated to have one mate, but he’d just about given up ever finding his until that one night nearly a year ago when he’d caught the sweetest scent he’d ever smelled. His body knew immediately that she was his, and he was drawn to her like a helpless flower to the sun, straining ever closer toward the life sustaining brightness and warmth she offered. His life would never be fulfilled or complete without her. He’d never be able to live away from her again, and he was glad she had taken a break from dating because he sure as hell would never let another man touch her ever again.

He wanted her well-being over everything else, and that was the one thing keeping his medieval instincts in check. He took another deep breath and the scent of the other lycan was stronger, closer. His fingernails lengthened and curled into six-inch claws that would rend skin and muscle off the bone with minimal effort. He was ancient and was able to partly change without becoming a full-out lycan. Younger werewolves had to learn to master such a feat. He sniffed the air again. And, the other werewolf he was scenting was very young. He knew that meant he would most likely be foolish too.

He remained motionless on the tree branch, watching Karen intently, praying that their second meeting would be peaceful, but that prayer was doused with ice water when he saw the shadow round the corner of the building she was standing in front of. He growled and felt his fangs pop from his gums as he launched from the tree. With one smooth jump, he landed silently and crouched across the street and on the sidewalk between Karen and the other lycan. He was glad his back was to her because he didn’t want to see the horror that would undoubtedly be reflected in her eyes. After all, he knew no human who could jump a hundred fifty feet in the blink of an eye.

The younger lycan stopped and, emitting low growls and sniffing the air, stared at him. “I wouldn’t try it if I were you, pup.” Lycans could smell all potential human mates in general, but only the destined lycan mate could smell the unique pheromone given off by the one fated to him. Unfortunately, this led many idiot pups to believe that any woman carrying the main scent was theirs for the taking when, in fact, it was there so his kind could protect potential mates. He didn’t understand why the young werewolves acted in such a matter. Any dishonorable act against a human mate by a lycan who was not the destined partner was punishable by death.

“Why shouldn’t I try it? I can smell her, and she’s calling my name.”

He curled and uncurled his claws, savoring the possible kill. “Yeah, and since you can smell her, you can also tell she is not meant for you. She’s mine and I’m much older than you, pup. If I were you, I’d tuck my tail and run before I decide to not let you run at all, ever again.” He knew the pup finally realized that he was partly changed and that he would lose this fight one way or the other by the way the younger lycan glanced at his claws. Fear, however momentary, however cleverly hidden, clouded startled eyes, and Anthony hadn’t missed it.

The pup raised his hands in surrender and backed away slowly, but Anthony didn’t like the way the bastard leered at him while retreating, brows drawn down in assessment as if devising a plan of vengeance. He didn’t take his eyes off him until he disappeared and his scent was but a mere memory fading in the gentle breeze. He straightened and, taking a deep breath, willed his human form to take back over completely, his fangs and claws to recede, before he turned to face Karen.