“Too tight?” he asked.
“N-no,” she stammered. “That’s fine.”
He took her arm and led her outside. She felt the change in air, the ground beneath her feet, and the heat of the sun on her head. Being blind made her more aware of Walker than ever: the sound of his breathing, the warmth of his hand on her arm, and his smell—no cologne or soap, just male scent wafting from his skin. But he wasn’t a man, was he?
Images of him changing to a beast, which she’d managed to close out of her mind until now, suddenly flooded back in. The full realization hit her that this was not a dream, but her new reality. Creatures that were the stuff of nightmares lived on the Earth, side by side with humans.
“What about vampires?” she asked.
“Excuse me?” A car door opened, and Walker pressed his hand to her head, lowering it as he helped her inside. She smelled the mingled odors of old pizza and pine air freshener and felt him lean across her body to fasten her seat belt.
“Are there vampires too? Zombies? Goblins? Demons?”
“Re-animated dead people? Um, no, not that I’m aware of. And I think there’s plenty of evil all around us without Satan unleashing demons on earth.”
“So you believe in the devil and God?” she asked after he’d walked around the vehicle and slid into the driver’s seat.
“I don’t know what I believe in. Good and bad actions, sure. A code of ethics. Beyond that, your guess is as good as mine.”
“So I can assume your code of ethics includes kidnapping?”
“This isn’t a normal circumstance. You have a destiny in our world.”
“What happens if the psychic is wrong and I’m no use whatsoever? Will your ethics tell you to let me go or shut me up?” It must have been the blindfold making her so bold and mouthy, as if it wasn’t really her talking so she could say anything. Taunting the man who held her life in his hands certainly wasn’t a smart thing to do.
There was a long pause before he replied. “I’ve told you no harm will come to you. You’re safe with me.”
Spoken in his gruff rumble, the words sent an excited thrill through her, another of those inappropriate reactions she’d been having. What the hell was making her respond to the sight, smell and sound of him like a sex-starved nympho?
“Whatever happens, I promise to deliver you home safely,” he continued, “no matter what the Council advises.”
The car jolted over rutted roads, and Sherrie could tell from the incline they were descending a steep slope. She stopped talking and tried to pay attention to how many times they turned and in which direction, because that’s what people did in suspense novels. But at this point it didn’t much matter if she could retrace the route to the cabin since she already knew who these people were, the name of their town and their dark secret.
The hum of the engine and the aftermath of adrenaline rush soon lulled her into a stupor from which she jerked awake only when the car stopped.
“Brian’s family isn’t very accepting of outsiders. Try to realize they’re frightened and worried about their daughter. It galls them to ask help from a human, so if anyone is rude or brusque, that’s why.” She could’ve made some crack about the irony of her, the prisoner, needing to be sensitive about her persecutor’s feelings, but Sherrie held her tongue. “How old is the girl?”
“Nine, I think.”
“What kind of symptoms is she having?”
“You’ll see soon enough.” He got out of the car and came around to let her out. When he leaned across to unbuckle her seatbelt, his shoulder brushed against her tits. Her nipples went instantly erect at the contact as if he’d taken hold of them and twisted. She sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth and knew he’d heard her.
He took her hand and helped her out of the car before guiding her down a path—she felt and heard woodchips underfoot—and up a couple of steps. The door opened without him knocking or ringing a bell.
“Bring her in.”
She recognized the voice of the man who’d been in the cabin when she awoke. As they entered the house, she smelled cooking meat and heard voices arguing in another room.
“I’m taking the blindfold off, Brian. It’s ludicrous. If she’s going to help, there can’t be any secrets or mistrust. We have to let her into our lives.”
As Walker removed the cloth from her eyes, Sherrie blinked and looked around the foyer of the Coxes’ house. It was hardly a wolf den and could’ve been any middle class suburban home. Kids’ shoes and backpacks lay in one corner. The coat closet door was ajar, and inside she could see jackets hanging and sports equipment on the floor.