Clawed

Copyright © 2011 Beverly Rae
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

Conan had finally decided to turn away, leaving Billy to have fun with the women, when his gaze fell on the drawing. He sucked air through gritted teeth, stunned at how precisely she’d captured both sides of him, how well she’d illustrated the transformation. Looking at the incredible drawing, he knew with absolute certainty that people would believe his kind existed. Anger, swift and sure, ripped through him.

“You have no right.” The two women jumped as he broke through the bushes and into the campsite. “I repeat. You have no right.”

Billy stepped in front of him, blocking his way. “Take it easy. We’re all friends here.”

The gorgeous woman and her friend gaped at him, each with an incredulous expression. Billy’s woman was wary. He could see it in her face, in her wide eyes, in the way she reached for the other woman. But the beautiful artist fought the alarm he saw on her face, struggled with it and won. Her features hardened with a determination he admired. Placing the offending sketchbook on the log, she took two steps toward him, then fisted her hands on her hips. The beautiful brown eyes flashed with fire, proving he’d guessed correctly. She did have spunk.

“We have no right to do what? To camp here? To eat breakfast?” Her eyes blazed with fury that was both intriguing and sexy as hell. “And who are you to tell us what we can or can’t do?”

Billy jumped in, again trying to defuse an already antagonistic situation. “Hey, you two, let’s take it down a notch, okay? Ladies, this is my friend, Conan Cahill. Conan, this is Nina Winters and Chloe Long, two very special women.”

Her name is Chloe. He longed to try it in his mouth, to see if it felt as good to say it as it was to hear it. “You have no right.”

Chloe’s brows dipped between her eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?” She shook herself as though shaking off a bad dream “You know what? Never mind. Billy, I don’t mean to sound harsh, but maybe you and your friend need to leave.”

“No!” Nina clasped on to Billy. “I don’t want him to go.”

Conan walked over, putting his body within inches of Chloe’s. Heat rushed through him, lust pounded in his ears and he felt his shaft go to full alert, his erection pushing against the confines of his jeans. He’d never experienced as great a visceral need as he did with this female, but that didn’t matter. He had to destroy the drawing.

“I have no problem leaving. But when I do, I’m taking the picture with me.”

Chloe glanced at the pad as though checking to see if he’d already taken it. Lifting her gaze to his again, she ground out her words, her tone leaving no ambiguity behind her meaning. “Like hell you will.”

“Yeah, I will.” Conan took another step forward, putting him in what humans called their “personal space” to challenge her. To her credit, she didn’t budge, didn’t even blink. The corners of his mouth lifted. Spunky didn’t come close to what she was. His shaft twitched again.

“Hey, man, let’s not go there. Keep things under control, okay? Both of you need to calm down.”

Her rich brown eyes flicked to Billy, then back to him. “I can’t stay calm with him threatening to take my work.”

Billy nodded, then shot Conan a pointed look. “I know, Chloe, and anyone can understand your position. But give me a chance. Let me see if I can reason with him.”

Conan growled but allowed Billy to tug him to the side. Still, he kept his eyes on Chloe. Taking the hint from Billy, Nina pulled Chloe to the opposite side of the campsite, away from Conan—and away from the sketchpad.

“Conan, what’s your problem? It’s just a drawing.”

True enough. But Conan couldn’t find the words to describe his feeling. It was just a drawing but it was also so much more. “I’m the subject. Both sides of me.”

“Yeah, but who’s going to believe that a half man, half bear is for real?”

He cocked an eyebrow at his friend. “You mean, like how some people believe Bigfoot is real? Or werewolves? Hell, the damn vampires are showing up so much that people are imitating them. Even forming vampire clubs. What’s to say drawings like hers won’t start the same shit for my kind?”

Billy narrowed his eyes. “Okay, I can see your position…to a point. But are you sure there isn’t something more involved here? Like maybe she gets to you?”

He glared at the were-coyote. “You’re nuts. She doesn’t get to me.” He glanced at Chloe, then yanked his attention back to his friend. “Not the way you think.”

“Sorry, but your actions say different.”

“He’s not taking my drawing!”

Conan and Billy turned to see Nina trying to calm down an agitated and very determined Chloe. Both women noticed the men watching them and grew silent, then continued their argument in hushed tones.

“Billy, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Now let’s just grab the drawing and get out of here.” He slammed his mouth shut, keeping the next thoughts to himself. Wasn’t it bad enough that I dreamed of her last night?

A slash of light brightened the world, followed by a clap of thunder that reverberated overhead, causing everyone to look toward the sky. Black clouds billowed and swirled, changing day into night, and without warning, the clouds opened up and let loose a hard, drenching rain.

Chloe screeched, breaking away from Nina’s attempt to pull her into a tent. Billy blocked Nina from going after Chloe, then pulled her into a tent. Conan raced over to meet Chloe at the log where she’d left her drawing, her hair falling into her face as she held the sketchpad. Picking her up with one arm, he carried her into the other tent and flopped her down onto her sleeping bag. She remained where she’d landed, clutching the pad to her chest.

“Are you all right?”

Alarm raked through him when she didn’t answer. Had she been hit by lightning? Sometimes lightning could travel through the ground and into an animal, but he couldn’t find any sign of injury on her.

“Chloe, answer me. Are you hurt?” He knelt beside her, expecting her to either shrink away or to strike out. But she didn’t move. Figuring he had to do something to get a reaction from her, he touched her knee. Her head jerked at the same time he felt something—the remnants of an electric current?—sweep from her into his hand. He yanked his hand away.

“No.” Her eyes changed, melting away the anger he’d seen before into a sad, soft brown. “I’m not hurt. At least not the way you think.”

Relief washed over him. “Then what’s the big deal about a little rain?” He glared at her, annoyed at the emotions she stirred within him, but her gaze had returned to the sketchbook.

“It’s ruined,” she whispered. “Totally ruined.”

The drawing, soaked and tearing apart, was destroyed.

Sadness swept over him and he realized he hadn’t wanted to destroy the drawing after all. Instead, he’d hoped to possess it, to keep it safe. Then he could have looked at the drawing and remembered the beautiful woman who’d created it.

“I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not. You wanted it destroyed and now it is.”

If he could have reached out and taken her pain away, he would have. Instead, he sat at the edge of the sleeping bag and shook his head. “I did at first, but now I realize that wasn’t true. I wanted to have it.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You wanted to keep it?” She appeared to study him, staring at him as though she could see into his very soul. After a few moments, she broke into laughter.

Now it was his turn to be surprised. “What are you laughing at?” Although he preferred the laughter to the dismal sadness, it didn’t make sense.

“Hell, if you wanted it so badly, why didn’t you just ask me for it?”

“Would you have given it to me?”

“No.” She shook her head emphatically.

He liked the twinkle in her eye and the slightest hint of dimples in her cheeks. “Would you have sold it to me?”

She shook her head again. “Nope. Not a chance.”

He laughed with her this time until another clap of thunder drowned out both of them. A moment later he was on top of her, crushing his mouth to hers, driving his tongue between her lips, his hands tearing the wet clothes away from her breasts.