Night's Master. Amanda Ashley

stood on the porch, thinking that he looked just as good walking away. I liked the way he moved. I liked the way his jeans clung to his long legs and lean hips. I liked his tight butt. It took all my willpower not to call him back.

      He turned when he reached his car. “Like what you see?” he asked, his voice tinged with amusement. Even in the dim light, I could see the smug look on his face. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”

      I felt my cheeks flame with embarrassment. How had he known I was checking him out? Or that I was having second thoughts about sending him away?

      I shook my head. It just wasn’t fair! Not only was he sexier than any man on two legs had a right to be, but now he was reading my mind!

      Chapter Eight

      I was unloading a box of new paperback releases on Monday morning when Susie arrived. I was relieved to see that, for once, her boys weren’t trailing at her heels. Not that I have anything against kids, it’s just that her three seemed more like six. Every time they came into the store, I was afraid they were going to break something, tear something, or just drive me crazy with their constant bickering and punching. I didn’t know how she stood it, day after day.

      “Hi,” I said. “What brings you here so early?”

      “Oh, nothing. I was just taking a walk. It’s supposed to be good exercise, you know, and…did you hear anything out of the ordinary late last night?”

      “I don’t think so.” When Raphael was kissing me, the whole world could have blown up and I’d have been none the wiser. “Why?”

      “Oh, it’s probably nothing.” She smiled, but it looked forced. “Rick says I’m imagining things again.”

      I came out from behind the counter. “Come on, we can sit down and talk over coffee.” I had bought a couple of cute ceramic mugs at the pottery shop. I filled a cup for her and one for myself. “So, what kinds of things are you imagining?” I asked when we were both seated.

      “Well, last night I got up a little after midnight to go to the bathroom. Seems like I’m always going these days. Anyway, I heard a wolf howling, and when I looked out the window, I’m sure I saw three wolves attacking a man. Rick said I must have imagined it. He says Oak Hollow is neutral territory, so it couldn’t have been Werewolves, and that wild wolves don’t attack people.”

      Susie stared into her coffee cup, her brow furrowed. “I went outside this morning after Rick went to work. There were signs of a struggle and what might have been dried blood on the ground. This has always been such a peaceful place….” She looked up at me, her expression troubled. “Rick doesn’t believe there’s anything to worry about, but…” She placed one hand on her belly. “He says it’s just my hormones acting up, blowing everything out of proportion, but I’m afraid something terrible happened last night, and that it will happen again. That it might happen to us.”

      “I’m sure Rick’s right and there’s nothing to worry about,” I said, hoping to calm Susie’s fears, but in the back of my mind, I found myself thinking, what if she was right? What if the Werewolves and the Vampires no longer considered this neutral territory? If they turned this into a war zone, no one would be safe.

      Susie stayed another half hour or so and then left to run some errands before she had to pick her kids up from school.

      I went back to unloading the box of books—books no one would probably buy—but I couldn’t stop thinking about what Susie had said. I knew there were at least fourteen Vampires in town, maybe more. Had fourteen Werewolves showed up to keep things even? Had they had some kind of scuffle last night? Was it time to pack up and leave town? I shook my head. If this remote little burg wasn’t safe, no place was. As for the conflict between the Vampires and the Werewolves, I knew someone who could tell me what was going on. Unfortunately, I didn’t know how to get in touch with him. And it was just as well. Being able to call him was a temptation I didn’t need.

      While I was shelving the books, I remembered a conversation I’d had with Raphael. I had been surprised to learn that he lived in Oak Hollow, and he had replied that someone had to stay and make sure that everyone followed the rules. At the time, it hadn’t occurred to me to ask if that meant there was a full-time Werewolf in residence as well. But now that I thought about it, it seemed like a logical assumption.

      To my surprise, just before noon, several moms trooped into the shop, their children in tow. They all nodded in my direction or murmured hello as they headed toward the far corner of the store where I kept the children’s books.

      After a few minutes, I went back to see if I could help, and the next thing I knew, I was chatting with the women as if we were all old friends. Two of the mothers asked me to order books for their kids, a third ordered several romantic suspense novels for herself, another asked about a murder mystery for her husband.

      Some time later, after the kids had all chosen books, a couple of the moms wandered through the shop, picking up a new book here, a used book there.

      It turned out to be quite a profitable day. By the time the women left the store, it was almost two, and my stomach was growling. I debated closing the shop and running out for a sandwich, but since I’d be closing up at six, I snacked on a candy bar instead and promised myself a healthy dinner later.

      A few more customers trickled into the shop throughout the afternoon.

      At six sharp, I closed the store. Standing on the sidewalk, my keys in hand, I decided dinner at the café sounded a lot better than going home and cooking a solitary meal.

      I slipped my keys into my pocket and strolled down the street toward Carrie’s Café, hoping that nothing would happen to change the ambience of this quaint little town. I loved it that the movie theater still played a double feature on Friday and Saturday nights, and that the barber shop still had a red-and-white-striped pole out front, and that the soda shop still served malts in the same shiny stainless steel containers they were made in. I liked it that the stores didn’t all look like cement blocks with windows, and that each one was unique. I liked it that the first few pages of the newspaper reported on what was happening in Oak Hollow—Daisy Parker delivered a healthy, seven-pound baby boy on Sunday; Jeffrey Madden pitched a no-hitter at the high school softball game Saturday night; Emma Watson’s strawberry preserves won first prize at the River’s Edge Country Fair; Ed Stefan and Laura Peterson were engaged.

      Crossing the street toward Carrie’s Café, I nodded at an elderly couple I recognized from church, although I didn’t know their names.

      Carrie Watts, who owned the café, smiled at me as I walked in the door. She was a tall, middle-aged woman with curly brown hair, gray eyes, and the biggest dimples I had ever seen. I smiled back at her, then found a small table near the window. A waitress brought me a menu, and after a moment, I decided on a small salad, a cheese-burger, curly fries, and a chocolate malt. So much for my decision to have a healthy dinner.

      I had only been there a few minutes when Cagin slid into the chair across from mine.

      “Mind if I join you?” he asked.

      “A little late to be asking, isn’t it?”

      He grinned. “I was afraid if I asked first, you’d tell me to get lost.”

      “You’d have been right.”

      “Hey, I’m sorry if I came on a little too strong the other day.”

      “You lied to me.”

      His brows shot up. “When?”

      “I asked you if you were a Werewolf and you said no.”

      “I’m not.”

      “Don’t split hairs with me. You’re a Were-tiger, aren’t you?”

      “But not a Werewolf,” he said with an easy grin. “How’d you find out, anyway?”

      I didn’t tell him that I had sensed he wasn’t human. In the first