A Wolf After My Own Heart by MaryJanice Davidson (good books for high schoolers .TXT) 📕

“You like the F&F franchise?” It seemed incongruous. Lila would have pictured Nadia somewhere fancy, like a tea room or a restaurant that served salad at the end of the meal, watching a black-and-white movie that tried too hard to mean nothing and ended with fin. Not sitting through movies with dialogue like “You know we’re crazy, right?” and ex-wrestlers driving 90 miles per hour in reverse.

“My tastes occasionally run along the plebian,” Nadia admitted. “It’s why I’m so fond of Chicken McNuggets.”

“If I may ask—wait. Of course I may ask. This is my house. Why are you here?”

“I have updates for Annette—she’ll claim we’re partners, when the reality is that I’m her keeper—and the delicious Magnus Berne will be in attendance. After what the poor man has been through, he deserves the chance to drink me in again.”

“I really like your confidence.”

“I really like how you set traps for Annette, all of which she tripped,” she said lightly and smiled. “Of course, if she had been seriously hurt I would have had to pluck your eyes out of your skull.”

“And I respect that.” What kind of Shifter, then, was Nadia? Something with claws and sharp teeth, no question. Not a bear, because werebears were rare, even though she’d met three in less than a week. A wolf, like Oz? A hyena? A posh bobcat? “So I guess the gang’s all here.” Lila glanced around, pretending to just realize something she’d noticed the second she walked into the room. “Except not really. Where’s—?”

A sonorous snore came from the living room.

“Never mind. Hey, Macropi, you want me to boot him out of bed? Out of couch, technically.”

“Would you, dear? Mr. Berne will be here soon, and I want that boy to eat something first.”

“I’m reasonably certain ‘that boy’ is older than everyone but you, Mama,” Garsea pointed out.

“And it’s lovely to see you up and around,” Macropi continued, ignoring Garsea, which was right and good.

“It wasn’t my idea. At all.” Though the shower had helped. She now felt like she might not die. She’d probably only have a violent aneurysm and languish in a hospital for weeks while her brain knitted itself back together.

“And Nadia, I expect you to eat some breakfast.”

“I would love to, Mama, but I have not kept such an admirable figure by partaking in your gooey buttery waffles. I will simply smell Annette’s plate.”

“I hate when you do that,” Garsea grumbled.

Lila stifled a giggle and went into the next room, and there he was, sprawled and sexy

(Jesus, those legs go on forever, don’t they? It’s not a cliché! They are endless!)

and deliciously rumpled and snoring like an asthmatic orangutan.

She reached down and grabbed his big toe. Oz was not a believer in pajamas, but he was rocking those boxer briefs just fine.

Rocking those boxer briefs? Time to find your box of vibrators, doncha think? Well, maybe not. How good IS their hearing, anyway? Awful, awful thought.

She cleared her throat. “Wakey wakey, something that rhymes with wakey.”

He cracked an eye open, then sat up with a big smile. “Hey! Hi!”

“Hi, yourself.” She hadn’t decided if Oz being a morning person was a plus or minus. “Macropi’s cracking the breakfast whip, there will be waffles, and Berne’s on his way over like a civilized creature who calls first.”

The smile disappeared. “Good. I’ve got more questions.” Then, as she sat beside him on the couch: “Are you okay? Because, and I say this with total admiration, you put away enough rum and vodka to incapacitate several NFL quarterbacks.”

“Pshaw. You should see me on my birthday.” She reached out in a futile attempt to straighten his Caesar-cut hair. “I swear, you’re the only guy who can pull this—oh.”

“Oh” because he had flinched back and was now scrambling off the couch while she sat there, blinking. “I’d better. Um. Get dressed. And. Y’know. Okay, bye.”

She watched him take the steps two at a time and would not would not would not cry, because she’d known him less than a week and there was absolutely nothing to cry over.

Your arms. You’ve got a long-sleeved T-shirt on, but he remembered what’s under your shirt and so that’s that.

Over, then. Before it even got started. No follow-up dates at the movie palace. No nothing anywhere.

Bright side, though? Oz’s new attitude would, at the least, save time. They could skip the relationship part and go right to the awkwardly avoiding each other part.

Hoo-fucking-ray.

Chapter 39

“I was meanin’ to ask you lot last time…who’s driving the decommissioned ambulance?”

“It’s not a—oh. Sorry, Berne. Force of habit. Yes, it is a decommissioned ambulance and thank you for asking. It’s me, by the way. I’m the one driving it. Not right this second, though.”

“But why?” Oz burst out, like he’d been dying to ask the question.

“Because it’s big enough to be a portable hospital and the mileage isn’t horrible. All I had to do was remove the forward emergency lights and strip off the EMS logos. Piece of cake.” And when all she got back were bemused looks, she added, “Why are the people who grow fur and run around on all fours during the full moon staring at me like I’m the weirdo?”

This prompted snickers as Garsea cleared her throat. “Contrary to legend, phase-shifters are rare. Most of us can shift whenever the urge hits.”

“Oh. Good to know. The urge isn’t hitting now, is it? In the middle of my living room?”

“We’ll try t’give you ample warning, lass.”

“Mr. Berne!” From the kitchen. “Something to drink?”

“Nae, I’m fine.”

“Come see me if you change your mind!”

Before Berne could reply, there was a minor ruckus outside, and then the kids burst through the front door.

“There’s my possum,” Berne boomed. Sally came right over and he scooped her up; she looked like a doll in his arms. “Glad t’see you’re staying in one place, darling.”

“For now,” she replied pertly, and though she was probably kidding, Lila shuddered at the thought of the kid going on walkabout again.

“Hi, I’m Dev Devoss. This is