Demon Wolf by Bonnie Vanak
copyright 2013 by Bonnie Vanak
Ladies
night at the paranormal Dive Bar.
Once a month, Tom dropped the magick
shield blinding humans to the bar’s presence. He announced two for one drinks
and the human women streamed inside as if he’d offered marriage proposals to
millionaires.
The custom was for regulars, who
liked human women warming their beds once in a while. Tom’s bar was a short
distance from Little Creek, home to Seal Team 21’s elite Phoenix Force in Virginia
Lt. Commander Dale “Curt” Curtis,
commanding officer of Seal Team 21, ignored the chatter around him. He sipped his
beer, waited for his burger.
Scar tissue pulled and stretched
uncomfortably, reminding him of a body no woman wanted to see naked. While in the hospital, his sometime
girlfriend had visited. Marianne had taken
one look at the blood and bandages and left.
No
Mage female wanted him. No human, either, even if she didn’t sense he was a
powerful Primary Elemental Mage who could fry her to ashes with a single flick
of his finger.
Dale
knew he was better off alone.
“You ok, Commander?”
Tom always called him by his title.
Sign of respect. Dale nodded. It had
been the ultimate bitch of a day, back at work only ten days after two long
months of mandatory medical leave. Paperwork piled to his nose, submerged in
long meetings, most of his team deployed to dispatch a last minute threat
overseas. Only Ensign Grant “Sully” Sullivan remained at base. Chief Petty
Officer Sam “Shay” Shaymore was in North
Carolina
Dale relaxed into a smile as he
thought of the much younger Shay. Last month the SEAL married his girlfriend. Dale
had proudly escorted the fatherless Kelly down the aisle. A wedding he’d never
forget, glad to see the two Mages declare their love in a lifelong bond. Those
two had rescued him from the dark, dank basement where he had only memories of
pain and blood.
And the scent of a woman… he could
never forget.
Across the bar, Sully flirted with a
pretty, slightly tipsy blonde. The woman rested her hand on the SEAL’s arm,
giving him a suggestive look. Someone was getting something something tonight.
Dale hoped Sully remembered to glove
before love. A half-human bastard faced a lot of hardship in the real world.
Children. Setting down his beer, he
closed his eyes. One regret he’d had in his 11 year marriage. Kathy hadn’t
wanted any. The Mage had used one excuse after another and finally, she just
left, but not before admitting she’d been sleeping in another man’s bed.
You’re
a good man, Dale. But you’re never around, not when I really need you.
Deep
inside, he still craved a home life, a wife, and a family. But what woman would
want him now, his body looking like a road map to hell?
Someday, maybe, he’d find someone
else. But first, he’d find the demon wolf responsible for scarring his body and
when he did, that shapeshifter would pay. Such evil must be eradicated before
innocents got hurt. Dale would do so gladly, sending the SOB straight to hell.
Suddenly he felt someone watching him.
Very carefully.
Dale felt eyes upon him, but
scanning the bar, saw nothing unusual. Yet his Mage instincts prickled. Someone
covertly studied him, sizing him up.
Tom slid a steaming burger, fries
piled high, before him. “Here you go, Commander. My treat.”
“Thanks Tom,” Dale said, surprised.
“No, thank you, sir. If not for you…
“ Emotion shadowed the man’s face. “What you did to free those kids,
sacrificing yourself to those demons and that hellhound wolf, hell, we’re all
grateful to you. I’ve got five kids and the thought of them enduring what you
did…”
The
cougar shifter’s spine stiffened. “I’m
proud to call you a friend. You’re more than a
SEAL. You’re a damn fine officer and gentleman.”
Holy hellfire, the man actually
saluted him. Uncomfortable with the praise, Dale nodded. “No thanks necessary.”
A few of the bar’s regulars studied
him like a moth pinned to a cork board.
Damn, all he wanted was a burger, not this scrutiny. Dale began to eat.
The brunette next to him spoke.
“Come here often?”
Once in a while, against the
ladies room wall, pushing deep and hard, a woman’s long legs wrapped around his
thrusting hips.
She gave a sultry smile, red lips
moist and pursed. The tight blue dress clung to a body that had caught quite a
few glances from the bar’s male occupants.
“You’re a SEAL.”
Wonderful. Human Frog Hog. He
swallowed a bite, shrugged.
“My second cousin’s best friend is a
Navy SEAL.” Now she slid over, her long, red nails on his forearm. “I adore you
guys. I can’t thank you enough for what you do for our country, to keep us
safe. You’re so brave and strong, and I’d love to demonstrate my appreciation.”
Hollow words, spoken by a woman who
just wanted to screw a SEAL. Maybe one time he’d accept her offer, follow her
home and show her the alternative meaning of Hoo Yah. Not tonight. Tonight he
felt every single one of his 420 years.
The woman’s nose wrinkled as she
studied his right arm. Dale
automatically shifted to hide the jagged gash. “That’s a nasty scar. Did you
get it in combat?”
No,
I got it, and a rash of others, when I was tied up in a basement and tortured
by a wolf’s claws. Care to know more?
Appetite turned to dust, Dale slid
his plate back. “Thanks Tom.”
Clear disappointment showed on the
woman’s face as he pushed back his stool. She turned to her right, engaged a
member of ST 21’s support staff, the vampire enthralled with the woman’s long
neck.
Nice night for a quick bite, he
thought in sour amusement. Like every human here, she would recall only a
pleasurable buzz the next day, assume it was alcohol induced.
As
he went to leave, a familiar scent hit him. Not the floral perfume of the human
women, nor the heavy cologne of the males pursuing them. Something deeper,
richer, more fragrant.
It reminded him of crushed autumn
leaves, the burning richness of smoke on a hearth, the musky scent of pure …
sex.
Dale whipped his head up, a memory
pinging.
Her.
