Page 1 of Loup Garou
Prologue
The smellof my fear was intoxicating to them—to were-panthers. I couldn’t seem to stop my pulse from racing or the light sheen of sweat wanting to develop on my palms. Both had started the moment I’d sensed the threat.
I’d foolishly been preoccupied with thoughts of attending a birthday celebration for a three-year-old boy and had allowed the group of were-panthers to get the jump on me. I knew better than to believe I could have a night without violence. A night without being stalked by creatures of the dark who wanted nothing more than to see me dead. That was, only after I helped them find their dark prince.
As if I even know who the dark prince is.
Three years was a long time to live in fear. I’d pulled back from the public eye, hoping to avoid incidents such as this, but it hadn’t helped. No. The enemy was attacking at an alarming rate. Where once it had been random, yet violent, it was now bordering on nightly.
Low growls sounded from the shadows, the places the security lights didn’t reach, reminding me I wasn’t alone. I’d counted four of them but I’d been fooled before. Two lay in bloody heaps less than ten feet from me and two more stalked me. Their supernatural senses no doubt heightened to the point they could hear even the slightest intake of breath on my part.
I lacked the ability to shapeshift. Part of me was glad, less shaving and all, but another part was envious. I was tired of them having the advantage. While I wasn’t weak, I wasn’t exactly a die-hard killing machine. I knew enough to get by, but “getting by” seemed to be harder of late.
I stared down at the blood-covered, colorfully wrapped birthday present. The tiny train pattern was perfect for a little boy turning three, or had been prior to me bleeding all over it. I’d found Rickie a group of engines for the wooden train set he’d be opening at his party—a party I’d sworn I’d be at, but would not make. Even if I somehow managed tosurvive, I couldn’t show up in my condition. I wasn’t sure of the extent of my injuries—being immortal tended to skew my judgment when it came to what one would consider mortal wounds—but I knew I was in bad shape.
I’d already lost feeling in one arm, but I was thankful. Before I’d managed to kill two of them, they’d slammed me off the hood of seven different vehicles. The white-hot pain in my shoulder had now eased to a dull ache. I did my best to stay upright, but went to one knee all the same. I could feel the remaining two were-panthers moving in on me. They were close but still put off by my display of power. I hadn’t intended to use as much magik as I did, but was grateful I had.
My gaze flickered to the dead men. I should have felt remorse for taking lives. If I lived through the night I just might have guilt. Though, with the rate the enemy had been attacking and what they’d stolen from me in the past, I doubted I’d have too many issues with it all.
My vision blurred at the same moment I felt a familiar presence closing in on me. It radiated safety. Help was coming. At least I hoped it was. It was also the only solace I had as I gave in and collapsed completely to the hard surface of the parking lot. I blinked and forced my gaze upwards. I didn’t want the last thing I saw in this world to be a dead were-panther. The moon would work nicely as a substitute just in case I was wrong and I was on my own—again.
Chapter One
“Tellme again who I’m meeting today,” I said, holding on to one of my closest friend’s shoulders while I stretched my leg high in the air. The need to work the kinks out of my sore muscles before daring to go on with a day filled with exercise seemed wise when I started. Now, as I stood there with visions of caffeine dancing through my head, I began to second-guess myself. Coffee was up next to sex on my list of things I’d rather be doing. So far, my caffeine intake was lower than it should be. I thought about wearing a button warning others to exercise extreme caution when dealing with me, but with the skimpy outfits I wore to work out in, there really weren’t a lot of places I could pin it to.
“Exavier Kedmen, he’s the front man for the rock band Loup Garou,” Myra said, never missing a beat. She was a machine when it came to her quest to keep me on track and I loved her for it. At least one of us knew what the hell I was supposed to be doing. I was happy when I remembered what day of the week it was. I’d say it was an exaggeration, but I’d already thought it was the wrong day twice and had only been awake a little over an hour.
“I love the name Exavier. I once knew a boy with that name.” Slight understatement if I’d ever heard myself voice one. I’d more than known that Exavier. He’d been my best friend, first love and greatest letdown. Too many years had passed to bother thinking hard about it now. I missed him and most likely always would. Since I hadn’t seen him since I was seven and he was ten, it was safe to say he’d had an impact on me. Sighing, I dipped my head down and pressed my forehead to Myra’s shoulder. Thankfully she was tall too. She made a wonderful mobile “post” for me to hang on to. I’m sure she’d rather I not do it, but since she hadn’t verbalized a concern, I went with it.
I stared at the dark grey Berber carpeting in Myra’s office as I continued to stretch. I’d rather be staring at a latte. The carpet would do nothing to chase away my bitchiness or help me stay awake. Though it did have a rather odd and nearly impossible pattern in it.
I shook my head. If I was to the point I was willing to stare at carpet, the day was going to be a long one. At least I was in Myra’s office and not at the police station in my friend Jay’s office. He was a detective and seemed to be able to locate everything but his desk with the mess he had in his office. I spent more time wondering if I saw a stack of papers move with the help of rodents and trying to figure out what the mystery odor was than I did visiting Jay.
Probably why I stopped visiting him there.
Myra’s neat-freak tendencies never left me concerned about things crawling up my leg. Her office was done in shades of grey with black and white accents. To me, it was depressing. To Myra, it was perfect. Whatever made her happy worked for me. She’d given up a life in corporate America to help me with the center and had never once complained.
“Why exactly is a front man of a rock band meeting with me? I’m not in the business of choreographing anymore. I’m sure the word is out by now. If not, I’m happy to spread it.”
Myra held her day planner up behind my head and ignored me. The planner was her version of a bible. I learned very quickly that touching it was begging for the death penalty. I was also informed, in the event of a fire I was to save the day planner first, small puppies and endangered species second. Strangely, small children were not on her list. I also did not point out that her plan had a flaw. In order to rescue the day planner I’d have to touch the book, so I was a bit confused on what Myra wanted. “You have a ten o’clock appointment with the Ferris family. They want us to protect their great-grandfather who is convinced the reaper, I kid you not, is coming for him.”
Strange, but truth be told we’d had weirder. “How old is he?”
“One hundred and two,” she said, somehow managing to keep a straight face. You had to hand it to her. I wanted to burst into laughter. I resisted.
Grinning, I switched legs. “Would it be wrong for me to confirm his suspicions? I think he’s right. The reaper is after him.”
“Lindsay, pretend to have a heart. It makes us all feel better about being near you.”
“Fine.” I rolled my eyes and let out a soft laugh. The man was one hundred and two. Of course the reaper was on his heels. Unless he was immortal. Somehow, I doubted it. “I still don’t know why word keeps spreading about us. It’s not like we’ve got a mystery machine parked out front with our own talking dog. Why come to us for the paranormal?”
She snorted but didn’t give me an answer.
“Anything else I need to know about? There aren’t any more surprises this week are there? I’ve had no coffee yet today and have already taken an abnormal interest in your carpeting. Please tell me my week’s looking up.”
She murmured something I couldn’t quite catch. Never a good sign. “Umm, try that again, this time in English.”
Myra rolled eyes and gave me a wry grin. “You are supposed to have dinner with your parents tomorrow night.”
