Sealed With a Curse(8)

The leader ran in front and six pairs followed closely, all in human form. When we first moved to Tahoe, I didn’t think there were but a handful of weres in the whole area. Now I scented them in the woods where I frequently hiked and along the walkways of the quaint shops near our house.

I guessed they needed to keep up with the rising vamp population.

Without thinking, I focused on the leader. He smelled like all wolves: of earth and a touch of fire. But like all beings, he had an extra something special to mark his scent unique. His aroma was that of water crashing over stones, clean, hard, strong. And while his redolence sent a wave of goose bumps cascading up my arms, it was his physique that stole my breath. He wore a black, long-sleeved University of Colorado T-shirt and black running shorts that inched up his powerful legs as he effortlessly raced along the sand. My gaze traveled from those rugged legs to his muscular body. He was well over six feet tall and, boy, was he cute. His chiseled cheekbones set off his strong jaw, darkened by a five-o’clock shadow. His nose was sharp, yet not so big that it didn’t fit his face. Thick, straight dark hair hung slightly over his eyes. And damn, those eyes, they were light brown and absolutely mesmerizing. I caught myself staring and our gazes locked.

Bren once warned me never to look a were in the eyes. “We’re temperamental assholes, Celia,” he’d said. “It doesn’t take much to challenge my kind.”

It was stupid, but I refused to avert my gaze, and so did he. To make matters worse, I gave him a small, shy smile, completely out of character for me. His dark eyebrows furrowed; he was probably trying to figure out what I was doing. I was, too, for that matter.

We stared at each other as we drew closer. It wasn’t until I knew he got a hint of my scent that his expression changed. He stopped and turned as I passed by. The others ceased to run as well.

“Did I tell you to stop running?” he half growled, half shouted at them. His voice echoed in a deep timbre behind me, above another splash of waves. I liked the way it resonated and, for some strange reason, wanted to remember it. I doubted I would, but that face…I wouldn’t forget that face.

The other wolves quickly resumed their pace. I peeked over my shoulder as I continued to run, the wind sweeping my long hair like a dark sail behind me. The leader stood rooted to the same spot while the others sped away. He tilted his head and continued to gaze at me, his expression a mixture of confusion and intensity. He jerked toward me suddenly, only to abruptly stop. My smile widened. I stared at him a second longer before finally continuing around the bend.

The wolf’s steamy presence gave me a new burst of energy. I ran a little faster, with a quick bounce to my steps, leaping over the large boulders that cascaded along the small incline to the road. I spotted the shortcut through the woods that led into my neighborhood. I paused briefly, allowing the ears of my beast to search for any subtle sounds of animals scurrying. The last thing I needed was to accidentally brush against some woodland creature. Another Celia-ism I failed to share in court was my ability to change into other creatures—although never on purpose. If an animal came in contact with me, and I couldn’t block its spirit, a bit of its essence transferred into me. One violent seizure and some drooling later, I’d emerge as that critter. The problem was, I couldn’t immediately change back—especially if stressed. I accidently stepped on a skunk once. The same week I was awaiting the results of my nursing boards. Needless to say, my sisters spent a week shoving lettuce down my throat and praying I wouldn’t lift my tail.

My hearing picked up a flock of quails and a few chipmunks. They scampered away when they felt the presence of my beast. I relaxed slightly and hurried along. The tall, thick pines darkened the path, no matter the time of day. Only small snippets of sunlight trickled through, dancing along the trunks and forest floor, highlighting the fallen needles and mounds of frozen snow. It was always a few degrees colder than the beach. I didn’t mind. My inner furry beast kept my metabolism high and my body warm, and this forest satisfied my animal side’s desire to roam.

I inhaled deeply to absorb the freshness, only to stop when I locked on a foreign scent.

Something lurked in the trees. And it didn’t belong.

I hummed to quiet the growl that threatened to escape, and casually ambled along until my nose fixed upon my prey’s location. The moment I caught it, I swept up a stone and launched it into the large white fir to my left.

“Ow!”

I charged the were. He crash-landed with a hard thump into a dormant rhododendron bush. He surprised me by not poising to attack. Instead, he sat up and rubbed his head…rather pathetically.