Michele Hauf - Ghost Wolf

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The knock at the front door startled Bella Severo from her slumber in the big cozy armchair before a fading hearth fire. She’d dozed off while waiting for her husband to return home.

Heartbeat racing, she pulled the white chenille shawl around her shoulders and rushed to the door. It was well after midnight. She couldn’t imagine who could be knocking now. Certainly her husband would walk right in. Her vampiric senses didn’t pick up a scent, though she blamed it on the fact that she was still groggy from sleep.

Her husband, Stephan Severo, had left earlier with Beck, her son. The two always went out on weekends together. Severo generally returned early in the morning, while Beck drove to his home at the edge of town, where the woods at the back of his property framed the moon glimmering on a frozen pond. On occasion her son would stay here at the house. She loved being stirred awake in the morning to the smells of pancakes and bacon, made with love by her two favorite guys.

Tonight she’d stayed up because she had a surprise for Severo. He would be thrilled with her news.

As her hand wrapped about the front doorknob, a weird feeling tracked up Bella’s spine. The blood ran from her face and her fingers shook about the glass knob. Heartbeat suddenly stalling, she gasped, clutching her chest with a hand. With the other hand, she flung open the door.

Her son stood there in but blue jeans and winter pack boots. His wide shoulders and tall stance filled the open doorway. The whites surrounding his irises were red. Tears spilled down his cheeks as he shook his head miserably. Agony clawed his fingers against his bare chest.

And Bella instinctually knew she would never be able to give her husband the news that would have filled him with pride.

Bella’s knees wobbled, her head falling forward. Beck lunged and wrapped her against his shivering chest. “I’m so sorry, Mom.”

She didn’t hear what he said after that. Her keening wails echoed through the foyer until dawn traced through the windows and forced Bella, a vampiress, into her dark bedroom, where she stayed for the next three weeks.

Chapter 1

Two months later...

Beck stumbled to the edge of the forest, tugging up his jeans as he did so. His breaths fogged before him. The mercury had topped out at ten degrees at noon; it had only fallen since then. He’d come out of the shift and retrieved his clothes from the hollowed-out oak stump where he always kept them. Wouldn’t do for a werewolf to shift to human shape without clothing to cover his shivering mortal flesh. He didn’t relish the idea of walking home naked, or trying to hitch a ride.

Though, to imagine hitching naked perked up his smile. If a carload of pretty women drove by? They’d pick him up for sure.

Nah. He’d keep his clothes on. The bitter January chill did not bother him while in wolf form, but his human skin wasn’t so durable against the temperature changes. Good thing he had brought along his winter coat.

He zipped and buttoned his jeans. Shoving his feet into his pack boots, he wobbled. A swirl of dizziness spilled across his vision, and he had to put out his arms to stabilize his stance. Tree stalks blurred, and for a moment the sky switched places with the snowy ground.

“Weird,” he muttered, and gave his head a good shake.

Shifting took a lot out of him. More so lately. But this was the first time he’d felt so odd. Like he wasn’t right with the world. Must be because he’d eaten a light lunch. Earlier in the day, his date had suggested he try a salad instead of a steak. Why he’d succumbed was beyond him.

Ah hell, he knew why. He’d wanted to impress her. Guys did stuff like that. Stupid stuff like eating leaves instead of a juicy slab of steak. Never paid off. Later, the woman had giggled while standing before her door and told him she’d see him again sometime soon.

Sometime soon? Vague, much? For not having dated in months, the step back into the pool had resulted in a cold splash to his ego. He’d added her to his mental “don’t bother again” list. A guy could only listen to a woman rave about the latest fashions or which movie stars were doing each other for so long.

Turning over the thick knit sweater and sticking his arms into it to find the sleeve holes, Beck raised his arms over his head to shuffle it down over his face when something rammed into his side, knocking him off balance.

Quick footwork prevented him from taking a fall. Beck whipped around to snarl at—a pretty woman. Out here in the middle of no-place-she-should-be.

Beck’s odd meter zinged far to the right.

She was petite, the crown of her head leveled at Beck’s shoulder. From under a black knit cap that sported cat ears, pink hair spilled over her shoulders and onto a bulky gray sweater, beneath which perky nipples poked against the fabric, luring his interest. She clutched a pair of knee-high riding boots—she was barefoot—and blew out an annoyed huff.

As if upset because he had been the one to bump into her. Really?

Beck instinctively knew what breed she was. It wasn’t a sensation he got from touching his own breed—such as vampires were capable of—he just knew when he was around another of his kind.

“Out for a run in the woods? Did you forget your glasses at home?” He rubbed his elbow, drawing attention to where she had run right into him.

“Aren’t you the funny one?” She bent to tug on a boot, followed by the other. Slender-fitted jeans wrapped her legs, and the oversize sweater fell past her hips. She looked cozy and sexy and so out of place. “I wasn’t aware a big ole lug would be blocking my path.”

“Trust me, the lug did not intend to get in your way. You just shift?” he asked.

“I, uh...”

Apparently she hadn’t guessed the same thing about him, but quickly realization crossed her gaze as if sun flashing on metal. Pretty eyes that looked half gold and half violet and were framed by thick lashes. Her hair matched her plump lips, sort of a bleached raspberry shade. He liked it. Looked like some kind of dessert.

“Yes,” she finally said. “I’m headed home. I’ve got a friend waiting in the car.”

Beck glanced over a shoulder. He didn’t recall seeing a car parked along the country road that was closest to where they stood. No vehicles out here for miles. Then he guessed she was leery, didn’t want him to think she was out here alone. Yet he scented not so much caution as challenge from her. Interesting.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he felt compelled to say.

“Says the pervert before he kidnaps the girl and shoves her in his trunk.” She pushed past him and walked quickly out of the forest and into the wheat field that boasted ankle-high dried stalks jutting up from the foot-deep snowpack. “Don’t follow me!”

Beck couldn’t not follow her. The road edging the field led to town. And it had started to snow in tiny skin-pinging pellets. He wasn’t going to wait for her to disappear from sight before he could take off.

He paralleled her rapid footsteps.

“Seriously, dude, would you stay away from me?”

“You think I’m going to shove you in my trunk? I think you’d scratch and give a good fight if I even looked at you the wrong way.”

He noticed the curling corner of her smirk, though she maintained her speedy gait. She liked him; he knew it. But it didn’t matter much. It was a rare pack female who would give a lone wolf like him the time of day.

“Do I know you?” he asked. “I’m not trying to be a creep. I promise. I just— I’m familiar with most of the wolves in the area packs. I think I’d remember a pink-haired wolf. Unless this is a new color for you? I like it, by the way. The cat ears, too.”