0 5

w a x e n

THEY WERE NOTHING like Diego.

It was true that she'd thought of him as a threat when she first saw him. But he'd been bleeding, mangled, on the brink of death; and the need to help him had surfaced right away.

But these wolves were different – radiating animosity and menace from their snarls that seemed to echo through the deathly quiet of the forest, down to the razor sharp points of their teeth. Their spines were curled in a way that suggested they were about to pounce.

Anytime now.

Argos let out a sharp, cautionary bark, even as he stepped closer to Brooke and she held out a hand to reassure him. But her heart was pounding in fear. Five wolves against – well, one. She and Argos didn't really count.

"Diego," she whispered, staring anxiously at her wolf, wondering if she should just grab both him and Argos and run.

He still stood directly in front of the both of them and nothing about his posture suggested that he was about to back down. Spine arched taut, ears still pricked as he bared his teeth in a clear sign of warning. She noted with a faint rush of confidence that he was larger than the other wolves, but he was injured and they weren't.

She was still hanging onto the thread of that last thought when one of the wolves began to advance forward. Immediately, she took a step back and Argos went rigid beside her. Diego, on the other hand, simply let out a growl that sounded so low and threatening that the other wolf promptly faltered, feet pausing on the sandy path.

And Diego reacted.

With a sudden lunge so swift she barely caught it, he rammed straight into the wolf that had taken a step forward. One vicious bite on the wolf's back sent it tumbling down onto the ground with a horrified yelp. Then he pulled back, keeping an unrelenting paw on the wolf's neck that made it whimper in defeat, and looked at the other wolves.

It was like someone (Diego?) had flipped a switch within them because the change was instantaneous. With lowered heads and tails tucked between their legs in a clear sign of fright, they quickly ran off, disappearing past the bushes behind the trees.

That left the wolf that Diego had pinned to the ground.

Giving one last warning growl, Diego released the wolf and fell a step back. It didn't waste a second scrambling to its feet and rushing off amidst a volley of barks from Argos. Brooke watched in amusement as her dog chased the wolf off past the nearest tree, then returned with his tail wagging in triumph like he'd single-handedly defeated all three wolves on his own.

Brooke blinked and let out a disbelieving laugh.

That was incredible.

Mere minutes ago, it had seemed like she and Argos were this close to being torn apart by vicious wolves. But Diego had chased them off with such proficiency it seemed like he'd done this millions of times before.

It had only been three days with her wolf, but already she felt safer than she'd ever felt in months.

Smiling in relief, Brooke obligingly leaned down to hug a thrilled Argos, rubbing his neck warmly like he'd just fought a huge war and emerged victorious. "You are such a good boy," she cooed, laughing as he burrowed further into her coat with a happy whine.

But she hadn't forgotten about the actual hero of the day, who stood several feet away watching them with sombre dark eyes. Still keeping one arm around Argos, she held out a hand to Diego. He hesitated a second or two before slowly heading towards her, keeping entirely still while she carded her fingers through his grey fur.

"You were so brave," she murmured softly, smiling as she curled her arm around his neck and hugged him.

He seemed adamant on keeping his head tilted away from her and she found it odd but appreciated it nonetheless, because she could smell the faint scent of blood from where he'd bitten the wolf earlier.

Dropping a quick kiss on the top of his head, she hugged him again. "Thank you."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"All I'm saying is – if a hot vampire was polite enough to ask if he could sink his fangs into my neck, I'm not going to run away screaming. I'd just arch my neck, give him my best come-hither look and say, 'come at me, thirsty, so long as you don't bleed me dry.'"

Brooke blinked at Erica's remark. She'd always known her friend to be – well, quirky, but when Erica said things like that, she couldn't help but worry. "You know I can't take you seriously when you say things like that," she said at last.

"Well, I'm being totally serious. I mean, what is with all these screaming girls who try so hard to resist the pull of a gorgeous man, all the while knowing that their own loins are already on fire? What're they trying to do – put out the fire?" Erica rolled her eyes, holding up a romance book that supposedly explained her point perfectly, before chucking it back onto the shelf. "Please. Just stoke the damn fire, sit back and enjoy."

Biting back an amused smile, Brooke shook her head and resumed her task of stacking books into the new arrivals shelf. It was going to be a long day, what with helping her friend out at the newly-opened bookstore – the first the Wharf had seen in years, and then clocking in for her night shift at the Lighthouse in the evening.

Much to Diego's displeasure, she'd refused to let him or Argos come along. It had taken several attempts on her part to physically push him back into living room – which was really more difficult than it seemed because he was incredibly strong. But one firm order to stay, accompanied by a stern glare, had fortunately sent him retreating.

She didn't want to do it, but there wasn't much of a choice. Argos wasn't the problem – in fact, she'd taken him along with her on her shifts more than once, and everyone loved him. Diego was the issue. There was no way could she head into town with a wolf by her side and not expect him to be killed within five minutes.

Besides, he reeked of blood from the fight earlier.

So with a promise to give both him and Argos a bath when she got back after her shift, she'd left them back at home.

The chime of the bell abruptly pulled Brooke from her thoughts, especially when she heard Erica greet the newcomer with a cheerful, "hey, Ruth!"

Glancing over to the door, Brooke saw a familiar woman in a nondescript green jacket. Having helped out in Erica's shop every now and then, especially when Elise didn't show up, Brooke recognised the woman almost immediately as one of the regular customers, clocking in every Friday to buy a new book.

Hearing the other woman return Erica's greeting just as cheerily, Brooke quickly shifted the cart of books aside. It was just in time too, because mere seconds later, Ruth wandered over to the new arrivals aisle in her usual route.

Brooke stepped aside and offered her a polite smile. "Hi."

"Hey, Brooke," Ruth greeted cordially. It surprised Brooke that the older woman knew her name. While everyone else did, since it was a small town, Ruth clearly came in from the city – the suit jacket and stilettos were a dead giveaway. "Got anything good here?"

"I don't read much but – " Brooke tapped one of the books on the top shelf. " – this one doesn't seem half bad. At least, that's what the other waitresses working at the Lighthouse have been saying."

"Hm." Ruth pulled the book out, scanned the synopsis at the back and pursed her lips. "Doesn't look very promising."

"That's what I've been telling them, but they keep insisting it's life-changing."

"Well, unless life-changing comes in the form of three hours wasted reading this book when I could've done something better with my time, then I don't think so." With a laugh, Ruth slide a manicured finger down three books to land on another one. "How about this?"

"Oh," Brooke stared in surprise. "I've been wanting to read that. Had Erica put a copy for me in reserve and everything."

"Looks like I made the right choice then." Ruth smiled and, with the book in hand, headed off to another shelf.

Leaving Erica to entertain Ruth and the other customers, Brooke resumed stacking books and, when Elise still didn't show up for the rest of the afternoon, cancelled her shift at the Lighthouse to help her friend. By the time she'd finished up the accounts for Erica, it was closing in to evening and she figured she'd be just in time to have a quick dinner before starting her night shift.

It was a good thing she'd left sufficient dog food and meat for Argos and Diego earlier on before she left.

After six, Erica ended up closing the bookstore early and heading to the diner with Brooke. Brooke couldn't help but be grateful that Erica was there. The previous night's turn of events had been lingering at the back of her mind all day, only to come back in full force by evening. She'd been nervous, to say the least, and was glad to have her friend accompany her.

"I'm telling you, that sister of mine really needs to have her priorities sorted," Erica was grumbling, when the two of them finally reached the Lighthouse. "This is the third – third! – time this week she's ditched work to go out with that new boyfriend of hers. At least my priorities are right in order."

"Really?" Brooke glanced at her in amusement. "Your priorities include being willing food for a vampire."

"A hot vampire. It's not like I'd let any ugly old Tom, Dick or Harry bleed me dry."

Shaking her head in mirth, she followed Erica to the nearest booth. After ordering her usual from Jolene, one of the younger waitresses who'd only been working there for a couple of months, Brooke looked around for her Dad, only to realise that he was nowhere in sight.

In the kitchen, perhaps.

She asked Jolene, who shook her head. "No, he went out upstairs to place some new orders," the younger girl explained. "Turns out we're running out of fresh meat earlier than expected. I don't know why though, I saw a whole chunk left in the freezer this afternoon."

Brooke started to admit that the meat was for her, then thought the better of it and shut her mouth. When she'd passed the message on to her Dad through Katrina, it had already raised plenty of questions from the other waitress.

No one other than her Dad could know that she harboured a wild wolf in her home.

So she kept quiet while Jolene wondered, and let Erica take over the conversation. Brooke listened in between distracted bites of her food, until she had to excuse herself to get ready for her show.

She felt a little less on edge that night.

It did help that Wayland wasn't at the Lighthouse. His friends Benton, Ivor and Roux were there, but they were easy enough to ignore because at least they knew their place and didn't try to get handsy. Add to the fact that Erica and Jolene had stayed to watch her show, and Brooke was reassured to see several more friendly faces in her audience.

The performance ended earlier than expected and she returned to the room, relieved to see that there weren't any more threatening red roses left for her. Maude was clearly pleased with the night's performance and the audience's reception to Brooke's singing.

"Your father called to leave a message," she added, after Brooke had taken off her mask. "Said to tell you that he was out with Weber and that you need to remember to take the meat and keys. Or kidneys. I'm not sure. None of what he says makes any sense."

"Oh, right." Brooke laughed and reached for her bag. Meat and keys was right, but she certainly wasn't going to tell anyone else the actual purpose for either of those things. "Thanks, Maude. Have a good night."

"You too."

Leaving the room, Brooke headed to the front of the building for the mailbox, retrieving first the key, and then the meat from the kitchen after. Tossing the meat into the back of her father's truck, she climbed into the driver's seat and turned the key in the engine.

Her cabin was just a five-minute drive away from the Lighthouse, three if she really sped up. And after pulling into the driveway of her house and climbing out of the truck, she stood there for a few seconds and felt utterly ridiculous.

Really, going to all that trouble just because she was a little afraid of the dark.

Of course, if that dark happened to contain her worst nightmare, then a bit of paranoia wouldn't hurt.

With a sigh, she lugged out the meat from the truck and trudged up to the porch. Argos greeted her when she opened the front door as was his usual fashion, tail wagging and eyes bright.

"I had a lovely night, baby," she murmured, kissing him on the head, "I hope you did too."

Straightening, she chucked her bag and coat on the counter and made a beeline for the kitchen, remembering something her father had said about preventing meat from thawing for too long if she wasn't going to use it. She'd just cleared out a space in her freezer when she abruptly stopped.

Blinking in confusion, she took a step back to glance over at the living room, her eyes widening when she saw only Argos curled up in front of the fireplace.

Where was the wolf?

And, her breath hitching as she suddenly registered something else far more unnerving, what the hell was that sound?

It came from the bathroom, sounding distinctly like the shower was running, except that couldn't be possible at all because no one else lived in this house. Had she left it on? No, she remembered turning it off before she left.

Or maybe it was her father – though why her father would think of using the shower when he could run a luxurious bath in his own house was beyond her. But no, he couldn't be here, because hadn't Maude said earlier that her Dad was out with Weber?

So if it wasn't her and it wasn't her Dad...

Maybe it was him.

Maybe he'd found out where she lived. Maybe he was here for her.

Swallowing, she felt cold fear grip her when the sounds didn't waver. Letting out a strangled gasp, Brooke rushed into her room and retrieved the gun her father had given to her. This was straight out of a horror story and the worst thing was that Argos wasn't even alarmed.

Weren't dogs supposed to bark at the bad person before their owner was killed?

With shaking hands, Brooke clutched the gun tightly with the barrel levelled straight at the bathroom door. So she was rusty with her shooting skills but it couldn't be that difficult, right?

Just pull the trigger.

Kill the bastard.

And right after, she might as well have been a dead woman because she was seconds away from being a murderer anyway.

Taking a deep breath, she placed a trembling hand on the doorknob and tried it. It gave easily and, acting purely on instinct and a faint rush of courage, she pushed the door wide open and raised the gun.

It wasn't him.

It was another him.

The stranger was still standing under her running shower, entirely naked and drenched. He'd spun around at the sound of her gasp and froze when he saw her. His dark eyes fixed on the wide-eyed expression on her face, then on the barrel of the gun pointed right at him, and then back on her.

Finally, he let out a ragged exhale.

"Oh, fuck."