Marisa Chenery: Designs on a Warrior

“Are you ready to let loose and have some fun?” Cydney asked her best friend, Maggie.

“It depends on what you mean by letting loose,” Maggie replied. She shot Cydney a brief look with a smile before she turned her attention back on the road.

“Sometimes you take that to a whole new level. And remember, we’re not in Canada.”

Cydney huffed while giving her friend a fake look of shock. “Well, I never. And what is that supposed to mean? I’m a good girl, most of the time. And how could I forget we’re in Norwich, England. You’re driving on the wrong side of the road, after all. Plus sitting on this side, I keep thinking there should be a steering wheel in front of me.”

“Hey, I thought the same thing when I first arrived in Canada.”

“Then we met and I taught you all things Canadian.”

“You mean you corrupted me.”

Cydney laughed. “Maybe a little.”

Maggie and she had met when they started their first year at Toronto’s Ryerson University. They had shared a dorm room together. Cydney had taken to the quiet British girl right away. Maggie ended up being the sister she never had.

So of course when Maggie had suggested Cydney make the trip home to England with her, now that they had finished their final year of university—Cydney completing her Bachelor of Interior Design and Maggie her Bachelor of Journalism—

she’d been quick to accept. It wasn’t as if she had much to go home to. There was a reason why she’d chosen to live in a dorm during the school months, even though she was from Toronto.

Cydney broke out of her thoughts when Maggie said, “Here we are.”

She looked around as her friend pulled her mother’s car they had borrowed for the night into a parking lot behind a large building. “So this is the nightclub your friends are meeting us at?”

“Yes. This is the place. Ali and Carol should already be inside,” Maggie said as they got out of the car. “Considering we’re later than I told them we would be.”

Cydney ran a hand down her black, short skirt, then gave a little tug to the light blue silk, short-sleeved blouse she wore. “I had to make sure I looked good.” In the black, strappy high heels she had on her feet, she walked over to Maggie.

Her friend shook her head. “I think you could wear a burlap sack and make it look good. Come on.”

They headed for the front of the building and the entrance to the nightclub.

Before they went inside, Cydney looked up at the bright neon sign over the doors that spelled out ‘The Nightclub.’

“That’s a real imaginative name,” she mumbled quietly.

Maggie rolled her eyes, took hold of Cydney’s wrist and yanked her through the doors. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the darker interior, and her ears to the loud, booming dance music blaring out of the club’s speakers. She allowed her friend to tow her toward one of the tables not far from the entrance where two women sat. Cydney assumed they had to be Ali and Carol. Her assumption proved correct when they reached the table and Maggie let go of her wrist to hug each woman while all three of them talked at the same time.

She hung back, watching the exchange. Maggie had told her so much about Ali and Carol she almost felt as if she already knew them. Once Maggie managed to make the introductions, Cydney found herself just as warmly greeted.

After everyone had taken a seat at the round table, Ali was the first to speak, raising her voice to be heard over the loud music. “It’s lovely to finally meet you, Cydney. Carol and I have heard so much about you over the last four years.”

Cydney smiled. “The same can be said about you two. I think Maggie did it on purpose with the hopes of getting us all together.”

“I have to say it,” Carol said, “I love your accent, Cydney.”

“Thanks, but I think you’re the one with the accent, not me.”

A waitress arrived at their table, and Cydney and Maggie gave her their drink order. Cydney ordered a rum and Coke while her friend ordered a glass of white wine, which would be her only drink for the night, since she had to drive them home later. It wasn’t going to stop Cydney from ‘letting loose’ a bit as she had put it to Maggie.

While they talked, she scanned the club from time to time, paying particular attention to the males in the place. So far she hadn’t found what she was looking for. It wasn’t until her third rum and Coke that Ali noticed what she was doing.

“Cydney, I can’t help but see you keep checking out the club. I have to say you look as if you’re on the hunt for something, or someone.”

Maggie snorted. “She’s on the hunt all right. Why don’t you tell them, Cyd.”

Feeling pretty good from the drinks, she figured what the hell. “All right. Since I’m going to be here in Norwich for a month, I’ve decided I need to find me a nice British boy toy during my stay. I also want to see if they can measure up to their Canadian counterparts. Literally, if I get that far.”

Both Ali and Carol burst out laughing. Maggie, who had already known about her plan, only shook her head and chuckled. Being her best friend, she was already used to how outrageous Cydney could get when the mood struck.

“Well, you shouldn’t have much trouble finding someone here,” Carol said, once she’d brought herself back under control.

“We’re on the same page with that one,” Cydney agreed. “But so far, none of them have turned my crank, if you know what I mean.”

“The night is still young,” Ali said with a laugh.

“So true.”

Cydney turned in her seat to look toward the club’s entrance. She sucked in a breath when her gaze landed on the very tall and muscular man who stood there. He had to be no less than six foot seven. Form-fitting black jeans and t-shirt showcased a body she would love to get up close and personal with. He wore his light-blond hair on the longish side. It just brushed the tops of his wide shoulders. She didn’t sit too far away, so she easily saw his face, but not the color of his eyes. And what a face it was.

With his square jaw, chiseled cheekbones and firm lips, she found him more than handsome. She had a hard time pulling her gaze off of him.

“Hello, what do we have here?” Cydney asked in general. “I think I just found the first candidate.” Before the others at the table said anything, she stood. “I’m going to

‘interview’ him and see if he will be willing to fill the opening I have.”

She heard Maggie groan. “Knock off the puns already, Cyd.”

Cydney, her gaze still locked on her target, waved her friend’s comment away with a quick flick of her hand and headed for the object of her desire.

Wulfric didn’t expect to find much prey this night, since there wasn’t a full moon until the following week. Then things would pick up. The night of a full moon was when the newly turned werewolves, sired by Fenris the wolf, shifted for the first time.

And with blood lust riding them, they would be compelled to seek out victims. After that, they could shift at will. It was Wulfric’s job, along with his five fellow warriors, to put down any of Fenris’ get, as charged by the Anglo-Saxon god, Tiw, the Sky Father.

One bite from their kind and a mortal joined their ranks, and there wasn’t a cure. Unlike the prey he hunted, he wasn’t a werewolf who had a thirst for flesh and blood. Tiw had gifted his warriors with the ability to shift, to put them on equal footing with their prey.

In their half wolf and half human form, they were much stronger and bigger.