Four Weddings and a Werewolf

Chapter Twelve

Veronica couldn’t stop giggling. She leaned into Logan’s arm as the elevator door swept open and let him lead her into the lobby. Could everyone see that she was glowing? Could they tell she’d just had the most amazing sex of her life…in an elevator?

She nuzzled into the warmth of Logan’s embrace and sighed.

What just happened between them was more than sex. So much more. Now she just had to figure out if he felt the same way.

“Take a walk with me?” He tugged her against him.

“I was thinking we could get a room,” she said.

“Let’s talk first.”

“Talk”—the hairs on her arms stood on end—“sure.”

They strode past the doors to the ballroom, and Veronica peeked inside. The groom was on his hands and knees, crawling up the bride’s dress to snatch her garter between his teeth. Classy. Her head was thrown back as the DJ played Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust.” The bride had planned an elegant wedding, and the groom had asked for something that would impress his friends. Looks like they’d each gotten what they wanted.

As Logan held the door open for Veronica to pass through, he said, “There’s something I think we need to talk about. Something you’re not going to like. You may not have let me talk about it back there, but you can’t distract me now.”

She looked up at him. “Why is it every time we’re intimate, you have something important to tell me?”

His hand slid to her waist. “Promise me you won’t be angry, and promise me you’ll let me explain before you take my head off.”

“I’m not promising any of those things.” She stopped and turned to face him. “What’s going on?”

He took a deep breath, and his expression went flat. He scanned the street over her shoulder, then pulled her behind him.

“Veronica, I want you to go inside and lock yourself in the bathroom.”

She tried to look around his shoulder, but he was too large. “What?”

“Just. Go.” He pushed her, and when she backed away, she saw something in the gap between Logan’s arm and his body.

A mountain of auburn fur and snarling teeth was walking right toward them. Its back was hunched, its ears flat, and its gums were lifted to reveal a set of teeth dripping with saliva.

She gasped and backed away, though she couldn’t get her brain to tell her feet to run.

The wolf was the most hideous thing she’d ever seen. Was this her stalker? The one who’d let himself into her house and, in all likelihood, watched her while she slept? Was his plan to meet her at this wedding all along? She could kill him right now…if she wasn’t afraid for her life.

“Logan, come with me,” she whispered as the wolf stalked closer. “Let’s go inside and get help.”

“I can’t. The wolf can smell you on me. He knows what just happened and he’s challenging me for you. If I leave, it means I admit that he’s the stronger wolf, and he’s won.”

“What?” She shrieked and tugged on Logan’s arm. “How the hell do you know what he’s doing or what it means?”

He craned his neck around to stare at her. His eyes had darkened from liquid silver to burnt charcoal. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you. But now, you need to run.”

“Should’ve told me what? Logan, what’s happening to your—”

Right before her eyes, Logan shifted. His back hunched until he ripped the seam of his tux down the center. He got bigger, stronger. He dropped to all fours, his head gnashing from one side to the other as the shift took full effect. She backed away, slowly.

This can’t be happening. Can’t. Be. Happening.

Logan’s tuxedo fell to the ground in shreds, and long strands of fur blanketed his body. His back rounded and lengthened, and his neck bulked up. He was massive. If she’d ever seen a wolf that could kill someone with a single snap of its jaws, Logan was it.

What was she saying? She’d just had sex with a wolf! Her sister had lied to her! Holy hell, she was going to pass out. Air wheezed from her lungs as her back hit the door of the hotel. She’d trusted Logan to watch over her, to protect her from one of his own kind. Oh, God. She’d been so stupid. She couldn’t trust him. He’d been playing her for a fool!

The ginger wolf lurked closer, his gums pulling back the closer he got to Logan.

On some instinct she’d never had before, Veronica stepped forward. “No, don’t—” But she couldn’t finish. What was she going to say anyway? Don’t hurt him?

Logan peered over his shoulder and his gums dropped to cover his fangs. His eyes were deep gray, his snout fuzzy and wide. He almost looked…exactly like the Logan she knew from before.

She screamed as the wolf with the auburn hair hurled himself at Logan. He struck with his paw, slicing for Logan’s neck as he came down on top of him. Logan bounded out of the way at the last instant, charging around a tight circle to get a bead on the other wolf. The fight spilled into the street.

Where was the security team? Wasn’t there anyone who could call the police? This guy was crazy and he’d just attacked them out of nowhere.

Wolf, she corrected, her legs giving out as her back hit the door. This wolf was crazy.

She couldn’t just stand there. She had to do something. Her body ached to propel into action, to save Logan, even though he didn’t look like he needed any help.

She scanned the street. Cars passed by two streets over, but the hotel was on a quiet cul-de-sac, hidden from plain view. “Help!” she shouted. “Somebody help us!”

Howls echoed from all around them. Down the street. Behind the hotel. The sound resembled a siren, a warning. Logan and her stalker continued to fight. Clawing and scraping at each other’s noses. Biting into each other’s neck and side.

A glint of light shone from the ground, catching her eye: three empty wine bottles had been tucked behind the concrete planter box that flanked the front door. Without thinking, she chucked one at the ginger-haired wolf. It hit true, right to the wolf’s side. He didn’t seem to feel a thing. She gripped the necks of the other two bottles, raised them over her head and chucked them as hard as she could. One hit the amber-haired wolf, and the other hit Logan square in the nose. He howled, and twisted his neck around to glare at her.

She shrugged, hands empty. “Hey, I’m trying to help!”

More howls. This time, closer.

Shaking off the blow, Logan sprang off the ground and chomped at the auburn-haired wolf’s neck. Logan moved with such lightning-quick speed, the other wolf had little time to react. He tried to dodge the assault, but Logan’s mouth was too large and he was moving too quickly. The auburn wolf didn’t stand a chance.

It all happened so fast.

Logan latched onto the auburn-haired wolf’s neck and shook. Blood splattered everywhere, spilling into the street and pooling in the gutter. The wolf howled and kicked his back legs, fighting to slip free from Logan’s killer grip. They edged closer to Veronica, but she was frozen in fear. Forcing her legs to move, she made a clumsy attempt at a sprint around the planter box. The wolf bounded off the ground and rammed into Veronica’s side. She lost her balance and slammed into the wall. Her head snapped back, hitting the brick and causing lights to dance in front of her eyes.

Chest tight, Veronica couldn’t catch her breath. She put her hand over her breast and tried to calm her racing heart, but it pounded anyway, right against her hand. Her head swam, and her vision fuzzed. Focus on the fight in the street. Just focus. Little by little, the auburn-haired wolf worked his way free. He bolted the second he dropped from Logan’s jaws. Logan chased after the wolf and disappeared around the corner.

She was going to pass out. Right here in the street where everybody…

The darkness won.

…

Logan drove hard and fast. He thanked the makers of Lexus for putting a 5.0-liter eight-speed in this car—it could really get up and go when you put some heat to it, and he wanted to get out of Everett as fast as he could.

Veronica started to rouse, so Logan turned down the radio. “It’s going be all right,” he said, tugging her coat up her slumbering body. “It’s all over now.”

He didn’t want to tell her that it wasn’t really over, but he couldn’t bear to say the words yet. Soon, when she was ready, he’d have to tell her that the auburn-haired wolf had disappeared into an alley. The canine had been smaller than Logan, which meant he’d been more agile. He must’ve bounded over a fence and gone quiet. Logan couldn’t find him, not even with his heightened sense of smell. It had struck Logan as odd, until he realized that he’d just had sex with Veronica and her scent was still all over him, clouding his other senses.

“I was blind. So fucking blind,” Logan muttered to himself. He shook his head and tunneled his fingers through his hair. “Damn it, he should’ve been mine. He was right in my hands…toying with me.”

As long as the coward kept using the postal service to relay his messages, there was little Logan could do to track him down. There was never a return address and the envelopes smelled clean, besides the traces of hand sanitizer from the mailman’s hands and a hint of glue. He should’ve been trying harder. Been more alert. Stayed up all night to see if her home was being watched. He should’ve slept with her, alongside her, so that she’d never be alone, not for a single second. He should’ve…he could’ve.

There was too much, and he’d done too little. The stalker had come too close.

Exiting the freeway thirty minutes later, Logan drove quickly through the neighborhood, watching for signs of being followed. There was no one there, nothing out of the ordinary. He pulled into the alley behind his house, pressed the garage door opener, and drove inside. After the stalker had let himself into Veronica’s house and invaded her personal space, there was no way Logan was taking her back there. Besides, he had a better chance at protecting her on his turf.

She was going to have a ton of questions when she woke up. What happened at the wedding? Why didn’t he tell her that he was a werewolf? Why did her sister and Jake keep the truth from her, too? (They’d have to answer for themselves on that one.)

Logan lifted Veronica from the car and carried her inside. Clamoring to get through the door, Fang barked and jumped. Logan kneed him gently, urging him down, as he walked Veronica into his bedroom.

“Don’t be mad that I brought you here,” he said, lying her down on his bed. She wasn’t awake and couldn’t hear him, but talking calmed him down. He covered her with the sheet and drew the curtains closed. “At least give me the chance to explain.”

He knelt beside the bed and took her hand. She was so soft and delicate. The Big Guy upstairs must’ve been laughing his ass off when he decided Veronica should be Logan’s Luminary—his soul mate and fated lover. Even if Logan wanted to be with Veronica for the next thousand years, she was human and would have to be bitten by a werewolf in two different pulse points to become a turned wolf and join their pack.

Born werewolves, like Logan and the majority of his packmates, shifted at whim, usually when they got angry. Turned wolves, however, shifted at the full moon. They were different, yet shared the same traits. Two wolves from different breeds. If Veronica was bitten and turned, like what happened to her sister, Logan and Veronica could be together and she could be accepted into the Seattle Wolf Pack.

But he was getting ahead of himself, wasn’t he? Veronica hated wolves. She wouldn’t want to be with him.

In her eyes, he was a monster. She’d already said as much.

“I promise to tell you everything.” He lowered his head to her hand, touching his forehead to her knuckles. “I think I can handle it if you decide to walk away at the end of all this,” he whispered. “All I ask is that you don’t hate me.”