The Beast in Him

CHAPTER 8

It took Jess the rest of the night and most of the day to remember the Buick. The Buick those two She-wolves outside the museum had driven away in. It struck her as strange when she saw it; now she remembered why. All those long discussions when she’d just met a still-sobbing May about her boyfriend’s Buick and all the “making out” that went on in that backseat. Could the guy still be driving around in the same car? And if it was his car, who were the She-wolves? They worried Jess but didn’t scare her. Not after living among the Smith wolves for two years.

Her big problem was whether to tell the rest of the Pack. When she had a few minutes, she’d grabbed Phil, but that quickly degenerated into one of their arguments where they kept saying the same thing but continued to argue anyway.

Unfortunately, Jess and Phil didn’t know Sabina stood in the doorway until she barked. And she had one of those annoying, high-pitched yelping barks too.

Jess and Phil cringed, knowing Sabina had busted them royally.

Watching them closely, she shrewdly sized them up like she did everyone else. “What are you two so heatedly discussing?”

Jess faced her friend and answered, “Our torrid affair?” That probably would have been more believable if she hadn’t phrased it as a question.

“Your torrid affair?”

“Yeah, me and Phil. For years now. Hot and heavy. Right, Phil?”

He stared blindly at his wife and Jess had to hit him in the chest to prompt a response. “Right. Sure. Hot and heavy.”

Sabina folded her arms over her chest. “You two are pathetic. Pathetic liars. Now tell me the truth.” When they remained silent, she added, “Tell me. Or I shift and so begins the peeing.”

A female dog who lifted her hind leg on a whim—this was not an idle threat.

Jess held up her hands. “Okay! Okay!” Might as well just deal with it. “Let’s grab the others and get this over with.”

“You’ve gotta tell her.”

“Why can’t it wait? Until she gets home?”

Kristan rolled her eyes. “Honestly! You’d think I was dragging your dumb ass to the gas chamber.” And she was dragging him because he refused to go on his own.

Pulling Johnny into the building, she smiled at the woman behind the front desk. “Hiya, Paula. Are my parents and Jess upstairs?”

“They sure are. Go on up, hon.”

“Thanks.” The big goofus started to slow up, but she yanked harder and pulled him all the way to the elevator doors. “I swear! You’re being such a drama king about this.”

She glanced at the man waiting for the elevators while keeping a firm grip on Johnny’s arm. His scent reminded her of Johnny’s, and based on his size, she realized they were the same breed. And, man, was he way cute!

The doors opened and the wolf stepped inside. She followed but had to keep dragging Johnny. The wolf pushed the top-floor button and the doors closed.

“So who are you going to see?” she asked, knowing he’d only be allowed to head upstairs if the Pack wanted him up there.

“Jessie Ann.”

She snorted and got a raised eyebrow for her trouble. “We all call her Jess,” she explained.

“I knew her a long time ago when she was just Jessie Ann.”

“I’m Kristan. This is Johnny.”

“Nice to meet y’all. I’m Bobby Ray Smith, but y’all can call me Smitty.”

She laughed a bit. “You sound just like my mom. The accent.”

“So you’re May and Danny’s daughter.”

She liked that he didn’t assume because she was Asian she was automatically Maylin’s daughter. “Yup.”

Kristan glanced up at Johnny, surprised he hadn’t said anything yet. But she had no idea she’d find him glaring at the wolf—the much bigger wolf—like he really believed he could take him on. Just great. Now his testosterone decided to kick in?

Smitty stared back at Johnny; although his body lounged casually against the wall, his eyes let her know he was feeling anything but casual. “Is there a problem, hoss?”

It was a low growl, but one from Johnny’s gut. Startled into action, Kristan stepped between the two, her hand against Johnny’s chest.

“So,” she said way too eagerly, “what was Jess like back then? Did she always have her nose in a book? I bet she did. She has like a ton of books. Stuff you couldn’t pay me enough to read. Boring, boring, boring. But I do like—”

“Christ,” Johnny snapped, “stop babbling.”

She knew that would work. Johnny hated when she rambled. But most important, she’d defused a situation she wasn’t really in the mood to deal with.

She briefly wondered if the skill was built into her DNA. Her mom could do the same thing.

Smitty stepped out of the elevator, working hard not to smile. The kid wouldn’t appreciate it much if he did. Smitty wasn’t mad. He had no reason to be. At that age, challenging adult wolves was normal. A rite of passage. It was also a right of passage to get your ass kicked by adult wolves. Of course, being around a Pack of dogs, this might have been the first time the kid had felt the desire to take on a male he didn’t even know. Obviously it was the first time little Kristan had witnessed it.

Together, the three of them walked into the office.

Pairs of desks facing each other ran down the middle of the room. Only one office sat tucked away in a corner. Although it had a door, you couldn’t call it private since it was made completely of glass. The door, the windows looking in... all of it glass.

Toys and games littered the floor. He could see paused computer games on some terminals, and there were several televisions set up with the high-end game consoles attached. Posters for the Stars Wars trilogy, Lord of the Rings trilogy, Logan’s Run, Raiders of the Lost Ark—every geek movie ever made—decorated the walls. They also had full-size standing displays from Star Wars, Xena: Warrior Princess, and Star Trek.

And Smitty’d thought Mace had gone overboard by investing in those quiet eight-by-ten pencil drawings of the seaside for their front office. How these wild dogs got anything done, Smitty would never know.

“That’s weird,” Kristan said softly. “Where is everybody?”

It did seem strange, with it not even being six yet, that no one would be around.

Smitty wouldn’t put it past Jessie Ann to run out on him, but he didn’t see the rest of her Pack running with her. Of course, he’d always heard that wild-dog Packs were uncommonly close.

He scented the air and walked to the back of the office, the two pups trailing behind. The back door led to a long hallway that appeared to still be under construction. Jessie’s scent went down the hall, past bathrooms and storage rooms, until he hit another doorway. Smitty pushed through and walked down the ten flights of stairs.

One door led out. A fire exit, he would guess. He could hear their lowered voices stop abruptly when they sensed someone on the other side of the door.

Smitty went right up against it and he could hear whispering from the other side—and sniffing. Grinning at the pups, Smitty loudly barked, “What are y’all doin’?”

First, they screamed in surprise. All of them, male and female, screaming like a bunch of girls. Then they started laughing and didn’t stop. Smitty finally opened the door and found them sitting on the ground, laughing as only dogs could.

Goofy. That was the best word he could come up with for them. Goofy.

“So,” he said to all of them, but with his eyes on Jessie, “anything I can help y’all with?”