“Shit.” Johann stood quickly, hurrying toward the front door. “We’ll resume this conversation later,” he yelled over his shoulder.
Marc was on his heels. They were out the front door before Johann turned on him.
“If you’re going with me, then be sure you know where your loyalties lie.”
Marc stopped in his tracks, Rousseau’s words not making any sense. He could tell the werewolf’s defenses were up though, and straightened.
“My loyalties shouldn’t be in question,” he said, his tone lowering.
“Word has it you have been seen with a human. You’re too much in the public eye and right now I recommend you leave Miss Heather Graham alone.”
It didn’t surprise him that his pack leader knew he’d been with Heather. What details the werewolf may or may not have really didn’t matter. One thing Marc knew beyond a doubt was that, pack leader or not, no one controlled who he spent time with.
Marc looked down at the
lunewulf
. “No one tells me who I will see or not see. Not even you.”
For a
lunewulf
,
Marc had to admit that Rousseau had guts. Johann took a quick step forward, jabbing his finger into Marc’s chest. Marc didn’t budge.
“You’ll do as I fucking say, or you’ll find yourself unemployed, and without a pack.” Instantly Johann’s teeth extended, anger filling the air around them. “Is that clear?”
Marc grabbed Rousseau’s shirt, ready to tell him just how clear the matter was. The others flooded out of the door at that moment, Samantha Rousseau, with cub still in hand, dashing toward them. She almost jumped in between them.
“You two quit acting like cubs right now,” she yelled.
Marc shoved Rousseau backwards, anger making his own vision more acute. He smelled the outrage on Rousseau’s mate, and looked down at the petite bitch as she glared at the two of them.
“Both of you are better than this, and the day you let humans cause the two of you to fight will be the day
both
of you are looking for a new pack.”
Hair prickled over the back of Marc’s neck. Blood pumped hard through his veins, the change aching to take over, set his emotions free. The carnal side of him could much easier settle this matter. He remained focused on Johann, ignoring his mate.
“We can’t reverse time. Humans know about us, and that won’t change. I’ll work by your side, or on my own. But my personal life is just that.” His teeth pressed against his mouth, making his words a bit more garbled.
As desperately as he’d like to settle this matter physically, Marc would honor Johann’s rank. But he wouldn’t ignore Heather—he couldn’t ignore her. Not for anyone.
“Now isn’t the time.” Johann recovered quickly from being shoved, moving closer slowly.
He wasn’t intimidated by Marc’s size or his strength. Anger burned in his eyes and his hardened expression. But he managed a cool tone, keeping his feelings at bay well enough so that their smells didn’t permeate the air around them. His skills at controlling his inner beast were commendable.
“This pack has controlled this territory for over a hundred years. We date back to the founding of Fort Saint James. And with the awareness of werewolves around them now, we are on some damn shaky ground with humans. More so than ever before.” Johann’s patient tone grated on Marc’s nerves.
“I don’t need a fucking history lesson,” he growled, managing to calm the beast in him enough that the darkness around him once again grew, his senses maintaining their human form. “We’ve got a situation down at Howley’s. If you’d like my assistance, I’m there for you. If not, I’m going home.”
Johann took a moment, staring at him. The others around them remained quiet, which was a damned good thing. Marc held Johann’s gaze, allowing the werewolf time to accept his offer, or decline.
“I can handle the matter.” Johann turned, without another word, and headed toward his Suburban.
Marc knew declining his offer meant his pack leader was upset with him. Well, so fucking be it. The
lunewulf
was out of line to tell him how to lead his own life. He took off around the side of the house, stripping once he was alone.
The change burned through him, anger and frustration egging it on. His body contorted, his heart pounding faster than a human body could handle. Feeling the cold night air against his fur, and inhaling the rich scents of the night, he burst into a hard run, needing to burn off energy.
It wasn’t right for his pack leader to tell him who he could associate with. Werewolves had been interacting with humans for centuries, and peacefully too. Granted, now that the humans knew who they were, times had grown tougher. Yet that was exactly what had brought him together with Heather.
He hadn’t voiced any commitment toward her. And at this point, he wasn’t sure what type of relationship they had. What he did know was that she was on his mind a lot—a hell of a lot more than any bitch he’d ever seen before.
Tearing across the countryside, pushing himself hard as he worked his way toward his house, he realized that was where his anger toward Rousseau had stemmed from. It bothered him that Heather had gotten under his skin. He’d wanted to show her how werewolves really were, and her saucy attitude and damn sex appeal had sent him for a spin.
Rousseau had been right. The timing on all of this sucked. And no matter how personal he would like to keep that side of his life, both he and Heather had high profile jobs. It wouldn’t be possible.
And as bad as it had been for him just now with his pack leader, Marc knew it would be even worse for Heather if her kind were to find out.
He slowed his pace, suddenly not in a hurry to get anywhere. Quite possibly the best thing to do would be to leave her alone.
Chapter Nine
Heather took a deep breath before raising her hand to knock on Johann Rousseau’s door. After she’d managed to get his phone number, it had taken over a day before she had the nerve to call him. Part of her just wanted to forget she’d ever wanted to write an article about werewolves.
But she needed to stay focused on her goals. Marc hadn’t come around. If she didn’t find something to concentrate on, she would go nuts. If only studying werewolves didn’t make her think about him even more.
The tension between humans and werewolves in Prince George seemed to be escalating daily. Timing was perfect to put out a full-length article giving detailed insight on how these creatures lived. It would be the breaking point for her career, what she’d lived for, an answer to her dreams.
Yet every time she went on an assignment, showed up at a place where she knew werewolves were, she immediately found herself looking for Marc.
Tapping on the Rousseaus’ door, she cursed herself silently for wondering if she might not see him while she was here. But that wasn’t her reason for visiting with the pack leader. Somehow she needed to get Marc McAllister off of her brain.
“You must be Heather.” A very pretty blonde answered the door, her hair short in a sporty punk haircut, and with just a touch of makeup. She even smelled good. “Come on in. I’m Samantha.”
“It’s nice to meet you. And thank you for letting me come over.” Heather fought to hide her nervousness, wishing she didn’t know how these werewolves could smell her emotions.
“I admit you have me a bit curious.” Samantha shut the door behind Heather.
The Rousseau home was small but cozy-looking. Nothing near as fancy as Marc’s home, yet Heather got the feeling there was a lot of happiness in this home. After a quick glance at the living room, and what she could see of a kitchen, she turned her attention to the pretty werewolf.
“Curious about what?”
“You told my mate you wanted to write an article about how werewolves lived, how we really are. I’m curious what you’ll have to say, and why you’re doing the article.”
Johann walked down the hallway, joining them at that moment with an infant at his shoulder. Samantha turned, smiling warmly at him and the baby, and then went to take the child—cub.
Heather cocked her head, suddenly wishing she’d brought Joey so he could take pictures, when she noticed a long white tail hanging out of the infant’s diaper. Otherwise, the baby looked human.
“Cubs have a hard time remaining in one form often until they are about three or four years old,” Samantha told her quietly.
Heather nodded slowly. “That makes sense. I never thought about that before.”
“It’s kind of like potty-training. Human babies take a while to master that.” Samantha nestled the infant to her breast. “Of course, so do werewolf babies,” she added with a smile.
Suddenly Heather felt foolish. She’d wanted a camera to capture this child, like he was a freak or something. Yet his tail appearing hanging down his leg was a very natural thing. The only difference here was that he was a werewolf.
“Something just occurred to me,” she said, looking from Samantha to Johann. “Werewolves know so much about humans. You’ve always known we were here. I want to write this article so that I can show my people the truth about you.”
“And what is that truth?” Johann spoke for the first time, his tone guarded.
“That you aren’t monsters.” And what she didn’t add was that would mean deleting every word she’d written so far.
But suddenly that was exactly what she wanted to do.
“I’d be interested in reading that article,” Johann said, moving to the couch and gesturing for her to sit down.
“I promise you that I’ll let you read what I write before it goes to print.”
“So what’s moved you to enlighten humans about us?” Johann asked, reclining on the couch and watching his mate.
“At first, I thought it would be the boost my career needed. We’re at odds with each other, and I knew plastering a full-page spread about werewolves, with inside knowledge, would quite possibly get me national attention.”
She knew her words weighed heavy with the two of them, and didn’t realize she held her breath until her lungs suddenly hurt.
“At first?” Johann wasn’t smiling when he gave her his full attention.
Heather nodded, hoping if she was completely open with these two that they would be apt to share more with her.
“Yes. At first.” She bit her lip, going out on a limb here. But there was no stopping it. There was no way she could get into this interview until she’d said her piece. “I shared what I’d written with someone in your pack, and it outraged them. They told me it was trash and offered to show me how werewolves really were.” Looking down, it seemed suddenly silly to confess this to them.
“Go on,” Johann told her.
The way he said it made her feel she was confessing something to them. And maybe she was. Although she hadn’t seen Marc lately, he still wouldn’t stay out of her thoughts. And she couldn’t keep this in her any longer. It wasn’t like she could discuss this with any of her human friends.
“You’ve got a culture that I’d very much like to learn more about. And I think sharing what I learn with others like me might help to bridge the gap that exists between us right now.” She looked up at Johann, his expression not readable. “I want to show the member of your pack who read my article that I can do better, that it won’t be trash.”
“You’re talking about Marc McAllister,” Samantha said.
“Samantha.” Johann said her name so firmly that Heather jumped.
Immediately she noticed tension fill the air. Hell, she didn’t have to be a werewolf to sense the emotions that flew between the two. It grew thick enough to cut with a knife.
“Yes. I am.” She looked from one of them to the other, not understanding the silent communication they seemed to be relaying. “Is everything okay with him?”
Johann’s attention snapped to her. “When’s the last time you saw him?”
Heather shook her head. “Not for several days. Obviously I’ve upset him. This article has to help both of us—humans and werewolves. Will you give me the chance to try and do that?”
Samantha moved to sit next to Johann, and ran her hand over his arm. He seemed to noticeably relax, and she ached to ask more about Marc. That wasn’t the reason she was here, she told herself. What she had just said to both of them she meant. She chewed on her lower lip, forcing herself to remain focused on what she knew she could do damned well if given the chance.
“You’re taking on one hell of a battle,” Johann said, relaxing into the couch and putting his arm around Samantha, with their werewolf baby in her arms. “But I commend you for it. Ask your questions.”
Heather let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and reached into her bag for her notes and her recorder. She had no clue how she would pull it off, but somehow she would put a dent, at least, in the animosity that existed between humans and werewolves. She had to.
An hour and a half later, Heather clicked off her recorder and popped out the cassette. She sipped at the water they’d offered her, feeling she had more werewolf knowledge in her head than she’d ever expected possible. Everything from how packs worked, to the tight-knit culture werewolves had, to the personal history of these two sitting opposite her.
“You make being a werewolf sound so appealing.” She sighed, thinking of her own estranged family.
Samantha smiled. “Humans are just different. But you have something to envy too. You aren’t shunned for who you are.”