The Dark-Hunters (308 page)

According to Nick, Wren was a complete loner who kept to himself and who refused to participate in the world. The only reason Marguerite knew it was him was that Nick would talk about the monkey … Wren’s only real friend, who was prone to steal their billiard balls while the two of them played in the back corner of the bar.

The monkey was named Marvin.…

Blaine caught sight of her watching the busboy. He turned in his chair to see Wren, who had returned to staring at her. At least that’s what it seemed like, but again, he kept his hair over his eyes, so there was no way to know for certain.

“Is he bothering you?”

“No,” Marguerite said quickly, afraid of what Blaine might do. In a weird way, she felt almost flattered. Men didn’t normally notice her unless they knew who her father was. It had been her mother who had turned heads.

Never Marguerite.

“What are you looking at?” Todd snapped at the man.

Wren ignored him as he moved to the table beside theirs that was covered with glasses and a plate of half-eaten nachos.

Marguerite could sense that he wanted to speak to her and she found herself wondering what he looked like underneath all that blond hair. There was an air of danger around him. One of powerful restraint, and yet she sensed that he didn’t want to attract anyone’s attention.

It was as if he wanted to blend in seamlessly with the background but was completely unable to do so.

A strange image of a sitting tiger in the zoo came to her mind. That’s what he reminded her of. A large beast that was carefully watching those around him, detached and yet confident that it could take down anyone who messed with it.

“What a freak,” Blaine said as he looked over to see Wren watching them. “Hey, buddy, why don’t you do something with those disgusting dreads?” Blaine tossed a few dollars at Wren. “Why don’t you use that to get a real haircut?”

Wren completely ignored Blaine and the money.

The monkey started squealing as if protecting Wren. Without a word, Wren patted the monkey’s head, then whispered something to him. The monkey jumped off Wren’s shoulder and scampered toward the bar.

Wren set his pan of dishes aside.

Her heart pounded as she realized he was coming toward her now. Up close, he was much larger than he’d appeared from a distance. For some reason, he slumped down and appeared to be around six feet, but if he were to straighten to his full height, she was sure he’d be around six two or three.

There was an aura of supreme power that surrounded him. One of speed and agility.

He was simply magnetic.

This close, she could finally see his eyes. They were a vibrant turquoise blue that was so pale they were haunting in their color.

And in their mercilessness.

He indicated her empty glass with a tilt of his chin. “Are you finished, my lady?” His voice was deep and resonant, mesmerizing. It sent a thrilling chill down her spine.

She smiled at his polite title. “Yes,” she said, handing her glass toward him.

He wiped his hand off on his apron as if he didn’t want to offend or dirty her before he reached for it.

At first she thought their hands might touch, but he moved his away as if he was afraid of making such intimate contact. A strange disappointment filled her.

Dropping his gaze, he took her glass, holding it as if it were precious, and moved away. He set it in the pan, then glanced back at her.

“Excuse me, Rasta-mon?” Todd said rudely. “You don’t need to be looking at her, asshole. She’s way out of your league.”

Wren cut Todd a bored look that said he didn’t find him much of a threat.

“Wren?” the blond waitress said as she came up to him and confirmed his identity for Marguerite. The waitress paused to give them a warning glower before she softened her expression and looked back at Wren. “It’s time for you to take a break, okay, sweetie?”

He nodded.

As he started away, Blaine pushed at the pan in his hands. “Yeah, sweetie, hang out with your own kind in the gutter.”

Before Marguerite realized what he was doing, Blaine slung his drink in the man’s face.

Wren let out a sound that was a strange hissing growl that didn’t seem quite human. In a split second, he dropped the pan and lunged for Blaine.

Out of nowhere a group of men appeared to pull Wren back. She staggered to her feet and watched as the four much larger bouncers had to struggle to hold on to Wren. They surrounded him so well that Marguerite couldn’t even see him anymore as they formed a barrier as if to protect her group.

The waitress was livid. “Get out!” she snarled at them. “All of you.”

“Why?” Blaine asked. “We’re paying customers.”

Another blond man came up, one who bore a striking resemblance to the waitress. He must be the brother she had mentioned earlier who managed the bar. “You better do what Aimee says, boy. We just saved your life, but even we can’t hold him for too long. By the time his vision clears, you better be long gone or we’re not responsible for what he does to you.”

Blaine sneered at him. “He touches me and I’ll sue all of you.”

The man laughed menacingly. “Trust me, there won’t be enough of you left to feed through a straw, never mind file a lawsuit, dweeb. Now get out of my bar before I throw you out.”

“Come on, Blaine,” Todd said, pulling him toward the door. “We’ve been here long enough.”

Whitney and Elise balked at having to leave, but like dutiful zombies they got up and followed the men.

Marguerite stayed behind.

“Margeaux?” Todd asked.

“Go on. I’ll catch up later.”

Blaine shook his head at her. “Don’t be stupid, Margeaux. Our kind doesn’t belong here.”

She was so sick of the “our kind, their kind” mentality. She’d had quite enough of that in her life, and much to her entire family’s chagrin, her thought was that there were only two kinds of people in the world. Those who were decent and those who were mean.

Personally, she was sick to death of those who were mean. “Shut up, Blaine. Go home before
I
beat you.”

Blaine rolled his eyes before he headed for the door with Elise and Whitney in tow.

“Are you sure you want to stay?” Todd asked.

“Yes. I’ll catch a cab home.”

He looked less than convinced, but he must have recognized her determination to stay. “Okay. Be careful.”

She nodded, then waited for him to leave before she headed off in the direction where she’d seen the bouncers take Wren. This whole fiasco had been her fault. The least she could do was apologize for the fact that she was dumb enough to hang out with assholes.

She found a small hallway that led to the restrooms and to an area marked:
Private. Staff Only.
At first she thought the men might have gone into the private office area, until she heard voices drifting out from the men’s room.

“Don’t wet his face again, Colt, he’ll tear your arm off for it.”

Again she heard that fierce, animalistic growl and something that sounded like someone being pushed back.

“I told you,” the masculine voice said again. “Stupid humans. That boy’s lucky we didn’t let Wren have at him. You don’t pull a tiger’s tail unless you want to get eaten.”

“What the hell were you doing talking to that girl anyway?” another voice asked. “Jeez. Since when do you talk to anyone, Wren?”

She heard the growl again, followed by the sound of breaking glass.

“Fine,” the first voice said. “Have your tantrum. We’ll wait outside.”

The bathroom door opened to show her two men who were well over six feet tall. One had short black hair and the other had long black hair pulled into a ponytail. They stopped between her and the door to eye her warily.

“Is he all right?” she asked them.

The one with long hair gave her a strange look. “You ought to go on and get out of here. You’ve caused enough trouble for one night.”

But oddly enough, she didn’t want to leave. “I…” She forgot her words as the bathroom door opened to show her Wren again as he left the room to enter the hallway, too.

His shirt was wet, making parts of it cling to a very well-muscled chest. He had a towel draped over one shoulder and his head was down. The gesture reminded her more of a predator that was watching the world warily, waiting to pounce, than someone who was bashful or shy.

He approached her slowly, methodically. Something about his movements was reminiscent of a cat right before he brushed up against his owner to nuzzle her or mark her as his.

Wren wiped at his face with the back of his hand before he cut a sinister glare at the men.

“Leave,” he growled.

The one with long hair stiffened as if he hated the idea of being ordered about.

“C’mon, Justin,” the short-haired man, who must be Colt, said in a conciliatory tone. “Wren still needs time to cool down.”

Justin let out a low, sinister growl of his own before he headed back into the bar.

Colt passed a warning look to her, then headed off to the counter.

Marguerite swallowed as she approached Wren slowly. This close she could tell that his baggy shirt covered a lean, hard body. His skin was a deep tawny gold that was so inviting that it should be illegal.

There was something about him that appeared completely uncivilized. He even looked like he’d slept in his clothes. It was obvious this man didn’t care what anyone thought of him. He didn’t follow fashion or any rule of civility. From what she’d overheard while they’d been in the bathroom, it didn’t even appear he was moderately sociable at all.

In theory she should be repulsed by him, and yet she wasn’t. All she wanted to do was brush back the mop of blond hair and see if he was as handsome as she suspected.

“I’m so sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t know Blaine was going to do that to you.”

He didn’t speak. Instead he took a step toward her, so close now that she could feel the heat from his body. He reached out toward her. He paused his hand just before he made contact with her cheek and held it there, hovering while those eerie blue eyes scorched her.

Wren wanted to touch her so badly that he could taste it. He’d never wanted anything more. But then, he knew that he shouldn’t.

She was human.

And she was beautiful. Her hair appeared softer than down. Her skin glowed with vital warmth. He would give anything for one tiny taste of that skin to see if she were as delectable as she appeared.

But he couldn’t.

An animal like him could never touch something as fragile as her. It was in his nature to destroy, never nurture. He let his hand fall away.

“Are you Nick’s friend he used to talk about?” she asked quietly.

Wren cocked his head at her unexpected question. “You knew Nick?”

She nodded. “I went to school with him. We used to study together. He said that he had a friend here named Wren who always kicked his butt at pool. Was that you?”

Wren looked over at the pool tables and nodded as he remembered his friend. Not that Nick had really known anything about Wren. But at least Nick had tried to befriend him. It’d been a nice change of pace.

“It was me,” he whispered, not sure why he bothered when he seldom spoke to anyone.

But he wanted to speak to her. He loved the soft, gentle lilt of her voice. She appeared so tender. So feminine. A foreign, alien part of himself actually wanted to cuddle with her.

He leaned forward ever so slightly so that he could discreetly inhale the scent of her. Her skin was warm and sweet and held traces of talcum powder and a spicy wood scent of lotion. It made him hard and aching.

He’d never kissed a woman, but for the first time he wanted to. Her parted lips looked so inviting.

So delicious …

“Wren?”

He turned his head as he heard Nicolette Peltier’s voice behind him.

The older Frenchwoman approached them from the bar’s office. He could sense that Nicolette wanted to reach out and pull him away from the human, but like the others who made Sanctuary their home, Nicolette was afraid of him. His kind was unpredictable. Deadly.

Everyone feared him. Except for the woman before him.

But then, she had no idea that he was a tigard walking in the skin of a human.

“I should go now,” he said to her, moving away.

The woman reached out and touched his arm. His groin jerked in response as that touch branded him. It was all he could do to suppress the animal that wanted to take her for his own. Normally, he gave in to those urges.

Tonight he couldn’t. To do so could hurt her, and that was the last thing he wanted.

“I’m really sorry about what happened,” she said softly. “It was inexcusable and I hope they didn’t get you into any trouble or hurt you.”

He didn’t say anything as she glanced at Nicolette, then turned around and left.

She was gone. It went through him like a knife.

“Come, Wren,” Nicolette said. “I think it best if you end your shift now and retire for the night.”

Wren didn’t argue. He did need some time out of his human form, especially given how volatile he felt right then. It was as if his body were electrified. Elevated. He’d never felt anything like this in his life.

Without another word, he headed for the kitchen, which had a door that led to the building next door where the animal-weres made their home.

Peltier House had long been a refuge for creatures like himself … creatures who had been thrown out of their clans for all manner of reasons. As Aimee so often said, they were all refugees and misfits.

Wren was more so than most. He’d never had an animal clan that he belonged to. Neither tiger nor leopard would tolerate his mixed presence. He was a mutant hybrid who should never have been allowed to live.

Here lately he could tell even the bears weren’t fond of him, either. They damned sure didn’t trust him. It was subtle. They would gather up their cubs whenever they climbed on him. Or they would do like tonight and isolate him anytime they suspected that he might be getting angry.

That was why he’d valued Nick so much. Nick had treated Wren like he was normal.

“What the hell?”
Nick would say.
“We’re all screwed up some way. At least you bathe and I don’t have to fight you for chicks. In my book, that makes you all right.”