Jane Godman - The Unforgettable Wolf

In the golden glow of the garden lamps, blood sprayed and fur flew. It was clear from the start that Roko and his pack were hopelessly outclassed, but they fought bravely. The black wolves tore into them, ripping chunks of flesh from the smaller werewolves, forcing them onto their backs and into submission. It was clear this was an organized fighting force, used to working as a team, used to getting what it wanted.

Within the watching crowd, there were screams and shouts of outrage.

“Can’t we stop this?”

“Who are they?”

Even as some of the partygoing werewolves who had emerged from the house made a movement toward the fight, it was already over. The black wolves, having subdued Roko’s pack, were shifting back into human form. Five naked, muscle-bound men stood over the injured werewolves.

One of them addressed himself to the partygoers. “Apologies for any inconvenience. We won’t disturb you any longer.” Reaching down a giant hand, he grabbed Roko by the fur at the scruff of his neck and hauled him to his feet. “This is what we came for. He has something belonging to our master.”

Dragging Roko and the other wounded werewolves with them, the five men strode through the watching crowd and out through the front of the house.

* * *

“Violet...is that your name?”

Nate still had his arm around the woman, and he could feel the tremors that ran through her slender body. He wasn’t surprised. A brutal, bloody attack like the one they’d just witnessed was enough to leave anyone shaken. Following on from the earlier events of the evening, he was amazed to find she could still answer him coherently.

“It’s what he called me, so I guess it must be.”

“Wait here while I see if I can find out what that was all about.”

She slid her hand into his, those huge, trusting eyes fixed on his face. “Don’t leave me.”

Something lurched in the center of his chest. In a place where he hadn’t felt anything for a very long time. Six years, to be exact. He gave her a smile that he hoped was reassuring. “I’ll be two minutes.”

Reluctantly, she let go of his hand. An answering smile trembled on her lips. “I’m timing you.”

Nate strode out of the shadows. The party atmosphere was understandably subdued following the fight, and people were standing around discussing what had happened. He approached one group, slotting in as unobtrusively as he could.

“Who were those guys?” Nate turned to the man next to him.

“No one seems to know. Looks like they were gate-crashers who had a grudge against the other group, the ones they dragged away with them.”

“So no one knows who they were, either?”

Another man joined in the conversation. “Teo is a regular at these parties, but the others hadn’t been here before.”

“I heard Teo call one of his friends Roko,” Nate said.

“Name means nothing to me.”

“Me neither.” Both men shrugged.

Conscious of Violet—since that seemed to be her name—waiting anxiously for him in the shadows, Nate tried the same questions on a few other people. He got similar responses. Teo was known, Roko wasn’t. No one seemed to know what the fight was about or who the black werewolves were. With no more idea about what was going on or who Violet was, he made his way back to her.

“Nothing.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Where to?”

“Back to my hotel room. At least there we can get you cleaned up and into some warm clothes while we talk about what to do next.”

Nate was getting seriously worried about Violet’s ability to stick with him by the time they had trudged back through the forest to the point where he had left his werewolf-hunting kit. Although she was making valiant efforts to keep up with his pace, she was clearly struggling. From the point where he had buried the werewolf, they still had to walk to the road where he had left his rental car. Hoisting his bag onto one shoulder, Nate scooped Violet into his arms so he could carry her the rest of the way. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head in the curve of his neck.

“Who are you? Really? I know your name, but that’s all.”

He laughed. “Just your average werewolf hunter.”

How did he start with the rest? Oh, and by the way, I’m in a band. Not just any band. We’ve been one of the top ten bestselling rock bands in Europe for the last two years and we’re just about to embark on a world tour. Which is why I have to be back in England tomorrow.

Somehow, nothing else mattered except how his hands felt compared with the softness of her thighs. Suddenly his fingers felt too big, too rough to be pressing into her delicate flesh. He experienced a ridiculous urge to apologize in case the abrasiveness of his touch was uncomfortable for her.

“But why are you here hunting werewolves. Why here, why now?” Her voice was a soft murmur in his ear, her breath warm against his cheek. Nate felt as if he was meant to carry her weight in his arms forever. This is ridiculous, he told himself firmly. He was getting carried away, believing himself to be taking the starring role in a child’s fairy tale. Slaying werewolves was part of his routine. Rescuing maidens seemed to have gone to his head.

“I get a message when there’s a problem.”

She laughed. “Just like that?”

“Yeah, it’s that simple.” As if anything in the last six years of his life had ever been that simple.

They had reached the car, and he placed Violet on her feet before stowing the bag containing his kit in the trunk. The courier would collect it from the motel later and dispose of it. All part of the service. A very bizarre service.

They accomplished the journey to the motel in silence, and once inside the room, Nate locked the door and switched on the lights. For the first time, he got a proper look at the woman he had rescued...and his breath caught in his throat.

“What is it?” Violet made an attempt to pull his sweatshirt down farther, squirming slightly under the intensity of his gaze.

Nate shook himself. “Well, at least we know your name really is Violet.”

She looked confused and he took her hand, drawing her over to the mirror. Turning her so that she could see her reflection, he stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders. Her eyes were enormous. Fringed by thick, spiky black lashes, they were a glorious, vivid shade of violet-blue. Her hair was a tumbling mass of midnight curls, and her skin, in contrast, was pale as milk. In the forest, he had thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. The harsh overhead glare of the neon lighting only confirmed his first impression.

Violet gave a shaky laugh. “How can I not know my own face?”

“That bump on the head must have caused you to lose your memory.”

She turned to face him. “You’re the only thing that seems real.”

With those words, the weight of his responsibility to her hit him full force. He had rescued her from that werewolf, but it didn’t end there. He couldn’t abandon her now. What had he hoped to do? Take her to a doctor and sneak out the back door while she was in the consulting room? Hand her over to the police? How would that story work out? While I was out werewolf hunting last night, I came across this naked girl...

No, Violet was in his care. Until her memory came back, or he found out who she was, he had a duty to look after her. A tiny voice at the back of his mind spoke up. Are you sure that’s what this is about? You haven’t just been bowled over by that beautiful face and those endless legs? Firmly, he shut it up.

“Go and take a shower or a bath while I make some calls.” He hesitated. “This might sound creepy, but it’s not intended to be...don’t lock the door. You may have a concussion, and I need to be able to get in there if you black out.”