Gina grabbed her the minute she walked into the office. Hugging Wendy to her, she whispered, “Wendy, I think I heard something.”
Wendy tried to remain calm as she comforted her. Gina got jumpy when everyone left for the day, when she and Gina were the only ones there at night so it was no wonder she was a little upset now. “It’s just the police. I heard the sirens.”
“No,” She insisted, pointing towards the closet door, “in there.”
Placing Gina behind her, Wendy grabbed a metal letter opener from Mr. Crumbs desk and tip-toed towards the door. Reaching for the door handle a loud bump against the door caused her to leap a foot off the ground taking at least ten years off her life. Gina ducked down behind the desk. Her eyes were the only part visible peaking above the scarred wood surface.
Grabbing the knob, she turned it quickly; jerking the door open she kept her body behind it. Peering through the crack in the door and the jamb she squinted trying to make sense out of what she was seeing. A small naked boy sat huddled in the corner of the closet. Easing around the door, keeping the letter opener tight in her grip, just in case, she peered down at the scared child.
Now that she was afforded a better look at him, he was a little older than she’d first thought. Probably ten or eleven years of age, he was naked except for the men’s jacket that covered his lower region. Tear stains marred his peach complexion. His blue eyes were red rimmed and blood shot.
Laying the letter opener back on the desk, she reached her hand tentatively towards the boy who watched her nervously. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.” She kept her voice soft so as not to scare him. His small hand was enveloped in hers as he moved to stand up, his other hand grabbing the jacket to him like it was a lifeline. Quickly glancing over her shoulder, Wendy asked, “Gina, would you mind going to the lost and found box and seeing if there is anything this young man can wear?”
Gina’s eyes shot back and forth between the two of them before she nodded and left the room. Wendy helped the boy move to the chair across from the massive desk, making sure not to disturb the jacket. Gina returned with a t-shirt which was a good two sizes too big and some jean shorts which were in desperate need of a needle and thread. But they would do to help cover him better than the jacket. Both ladies turned around giving him a few minutes of privacy to get dressed.
When they turned back around he was dressed in the oversized clothing, sitting almost in a daze, his eyes full of tears. “They left me.”
Wendy knelt down beside the chair. “Who left you, honey? How did you get in here?” Reaching to grasp his hand, she pulled her hand back when he growled at her. It sounded more like a dog’s growl than that of a little boy.
“I have to go.” He blurted.
Gina stood stock still staring at the child as he rose from the chair with a smooth grace and pushed past Wendy. When he looked back at her over his shoulder, Wendy swore his eyes were no longer blue, but a large black sphere with almost no white visible. Another growl was emitted followed by a short howl and then he was gone.
Jumping up from the floor, Wendy flew out of the office determined to find out what exactly was going on. Barreling down the hallway to the front entrance of the museum she slammed into a solid wall. The wall reached out and grabbed her, steadying her on her feet before asking, “Are you all right, ma’am?”
Blinking back her confusion, Wendy looked up into the most luminous green eyes she’d ever seen. The wall wasn’t a wall after all, but a solid bunch of muscles encased in beautiful bronze skin. Dark black hair fell crisply over a strong arched brow. A chiseled jaw featured thin lips turned down in a severe frown as his green eyes bore into her awaiting an answer. “I’m fine.” When he released her she immediately rushed to apologize, “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” She peered around his broad shoulders trying to catch a glimpse of the boy who fled, “Did you see a young boy run past here?”
The man’s features quickly turned from concern to confused. “Ma’am?”
Gesturing with her hands, she put her hand out to show about five feet tall. “You know, a boy. He was about this tall, dirty dishwater blonde hair, blue eyes, or maybe they were black.”
“Ma’am, no one came by this way. Is he your son?”
“What?” Shaking the fuzz from her mind, Wendy looked hard at the man before her. “No, he was…I found him hiding in the curator’s closet. I think the thieves left him here.”
“Ma’am, are you okay? Did you hit your head perhaps?” A large knuckled hand caressed her brow, checking her for a temperature the way her mother had done when she was a child.
Brushing his hand away stiffly, she stated, “I am fine. Gina was there, she will corroborate what I said. And stop calling me ma’am.”
“Sorry. I am Detective Casper Wolfe. I received a call about a burglary.”
“Wendy, is it okay to come out?” Wendy turned to find Gina hugging herself. Large puddles of black mascara pooled underneath each of her eyes.
“It is fine, Gina. The police are here.” Wendy grabbed Gina’s hand pulling her in close, trying her best to comfort her even though she still felt a little shaky herself. “Gina, this is Detective Wolfe.” Gina merely nodded in the direction of the detective, clinging tightly to Wendy’s arm.
“Ma’am, Miss, I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name.” Wendy saw the detective was looking at her inquisitively.
She supplied, “My name is Wendy Melbourne, I’m the head conservator.” Pointing to the shaking woman clinging to her, “This is Gina Waters, she is a museum technician here.”
Pulling a small notepad from his jacket pocket, he flipped it open and began to write. Looking up through his eyelashes, he inquired, “So, Ms. Waters, did you see this boy?”
Gina snorted, then quickly covered her nose and mouth with her free hand. “He growled at us.”
He stopped writing long enough to raise his brows in question, “He growled at you?”
“Yes, he was naked so we gave him some clothes out of the lost and found. Then he growled at us and then he flew out the door.” Wendy supplied the answer to his disbelieving question.
“He was naked?” His pen moved quickly across the small paper, his eyes no longer looked their way.
“Yes.”
“Ms. Melbourne, you stated you thought the thieves left him behind. Why would you think that?”
“Wendy, thank God.” Mr. Crumb stumbled around the detective, concern written clearly in the wrinkles of his rough worn face. At seventy-five he was still going strong, constantly running here and there, making sure the museum ran like a well oiled machine, but he appeared a lot older just now.
“We’re fine, Mr. Crumb. The break in must have been sometime last night.” She allowed him to sweep her into a short embrace, then he engulfed Gina in his arms. After releasing them both, she informed him, “They stole the Statue of Osirius.”
The old man’s breath rushed out in a loud whoosh. Wendy noticed a slight tick in Detective Wolfe’s cheek as he watched the scene between the three of them. “I will just leave you three alone for now.”
She noticed his pause before he turned fully and headed back towards the entrance to the museum. Sure he would be back to question her further she went with Gina and Mr. Crumb back to the scene of the missing artifact.
Wendy still couldn’t believe someone had broken in and stolen the statue. What puzzled her more was that it was the only thing taken. The appearance of the boy disturbed her also. What kind of thief takes a young kid along, especially in a heist that surely took lots of thought and planning?
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“I’m mated to a damn werewolf? A werewolf. Just perfect, I’m working with the enemy.” Wendy’s arms flailed in the air resembling a crazy banshee woman.
Casper huffed out the breath he’d been holding the entire ride back to the cabin. She’d bit him and for the life of him he couldn’t be mad that she did. The lycans in that bar were ready to shred him if it meant they could have Wendy. He’d known her pheromones were potent, but he’d underestimated exactly how powerful they could be. “I’m not your enemy, Wendy.”
Whipping around in the middle of the living room, she placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. “No?”
“No, I’m not. I’m trying to help recover the statue, the same as you.” His head was swimming with the amount of energy coming off her body. The waves were almost too much for him to fight.
“Yeah, but why? So you can use it for the same purpose as these other guys – no strike that – werewolves, want to use it?”
The way she sneered the word werewolves had his hackles standing on end. His mind understood her anger, she had just been thrown into the middle of a storybook, but she didn’t have to act as if he had some deadly disease she could get just by being close to him. “Of course not.”
“I just can’t believe my luck. The first good looking guy I meet in years kisses me and he turns out to be a werewolf.” She was talking to herself now. Walking in circles around the room, her head tilted towards the sky appearing like her and her God were carrying on a conversation he wasn’t privy to.
“You think I’m good looking?” He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but it allowed him a brief thought that maybe they could get past their differences.
“The first kiss I’ve had in three long years and he’s a werewolf.”
Apparently she wasn’t done with her spiritual tirade. “Are you planning on throwing a temper tantrum like some child every time things don’t go your way?”
Wendy stopped and leveled an icy stare at him. “I believe I’m entitled to a few minutes of outrage, yes.” Her curt nod caused a ghost of a smile to twitch at the corner of his mouth.
“Fine, I’ll give you a few minutes to get it out of your system.” He crossed the living room and entered the kitchen, grabbing a soda out of the fridge he popped the top and guzzled the cool fizz down.
Totally ignoring him she continued with her rant. “Vampires, missing statues, and gosh dang bone melting kisses from a werewolf. For goodness sakes, why don’t you tell me to join a convent?”
Frozen in place by her words he questioned, “Wendy?”
Acting as if she hadn’t heard him, she went on, “I was ready to sleep with you. To break my self induced celibacy to sleep with a dog.”
“Wendy!”
Approaching him, her face shrouded in anger, she asked, “Do I have to worry about you dry humping my leg every time we are surrounded by other men?”
Her demeaning statements about werewolves, comparing them to dogs and the like broke his hope to keep control of himself, “Are you done?”
The anger dissipated and left an innocent mist in her eyes. “Yes.”
Setting the bottle of soda down easily on the counter so as not to draw attention to the hurt she’d caused with her words, he said, “Okay, first of all, I did not dry hump your leg. I merely asserted the fact that you were with me and that they needed to back off. And second, you were going to sleep with me?”
“Oh please, like you didn’t know what I wanted to do to you.”
He shook his head, all his strength now working to keep a straight face. “It was kind of obvious, but we can’t sleep together.”
Her green eyes widened in outrage. “That’s right you blew me off.”
“I didn’t blow you off. I merely asserted the fact that we could not let it go any further.”
Her eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open. Warily she said, “But in the truck you said…you said you were my love slave.” Her thin finger pointed straight to her chest as she smiled widely. “Does that mean that I can make you sleep with me by saying a few choice words?”
“Yes.” That announcement had her eyes flying wide again. Biting the inside of his mouth he added, “But it would make me think a lot less of you if you forced me. When it happens I want to know you are okay with the information you’ve been given. You have to be able to accept who and what I am.”
Her looks deadly serious she queried, “Do you only have sex doggy-style?”
His face followed suit. “No.”
Her fingers twisted the bottom of her sweater, knotting the fabric around and around, successfully pulling the fabric taut against her breasts. “Do you have sex as a werewolf?”
Taking a deep breath, he released it in a rush. “I can, but only if the female is okay with it.”
“Does your,” Wendy pointed to the bulge readily apparent behind his jeans, “does it look normal or is it a dog’s you know what?”
Casper chuckled at her innocence, “It’s normal.”
Wendy swallowed deeply, the sound echoing between them, “Do you knot up like a dog?”
Shaking his head, Casper stepped to her and brushed a tendril away from her face. “Wendy, are we playing twenty questions here?”
A shiver shook her body, drawing his attention to the buds spearing his way through her sweater. “No, I – I’m just curious.”
“Well, when you seriously want to know and are ready to accept the answers, give me a call. I’m going to bed.” Stepping around her, making sure their bodies didn’t touch, he headed for his room.
Wendy’s shaky voice stopped him, “Casper?”
Without turning around, he ran a hand through his crisp hair trying to rein in his frustrations. “What, Wendy?”
Her voice quivered and squeaked as she asked, “Do you have a lot of mates?”
Shaking his head from side to side, his hand scrubbed across his face, “No. We are werewolves, but we are also people. We don’t screw every female who’s in heat like an ordinary dog does.”
Wendy whispered, “Okay.”
Back in motion he breathed, “Good night, Wendy.”
She spoke tentatively, like maybe she could feel the tension building inside of him, “Casper?”
Stopping once again, he glanced over his shoulder, “What is it, Wendy?”
She was staring at the floor, the toe of her shoe pushing around something invisible. Her head still bowed, her gaze rose to meet his, “Would you make love to me?”