we’ve locked up since no one’s talking.”
****
Ethan shifted halfway down the path to the stables thinking he could outsmart, out run, overpower this man. Not happening. Simply put, Ethan had been outdone on all levels. The mold for werewolves was cast from Julian.
From Ethan’s vantage this scenario continued to spiral downhill. Getting dragged by the scruff of his neck to the tack room was the icing on the cake or so he thought until Julian secured him to an old wooden beam with a silver chain, and wrangled a loose muzzle on him. Panic escalated to level orange when Julian dug up as many syringes as he could muster then spread them out on a tattered, dusty horse-hair blanket. Nothing aseptic in these urine soaked walls.
“No freaking way you’re poking me with those things.”
“Good to know the wolf has evolved to communication in both life forms.”
Julian winked, but it wasn’t a warm, mischievous blink like the ones Ethan doled out. Ethan realized there and then Julian was probably more of a cold-blooded beast than the Maestro.
Both Jovan and Savanah sneezed in unison when they entered the musty barn. “Here’s the mixture. Who’s it for?” Savanah dabbed her nose with a tissue, searching. “Oh my, I don’t miss this place.”
Recognition of one angelic voice had Ethan crank his large head in the direction of freedom, the sliding stable door.
Taken aback seeing Ethan, she approached him with caution. “We meet again. No mistaking those green eyes. You got all dolled up for me? Nice coat! I must say you have a definite angle at getting to know people.”
“Yeah, you’ll never forget this, will you?” Ethan sat on his haunches and bat his puppy eyes at her.
“I don’t think I’ll let you forget it either.” She smirked.
“Savanah! I know your name!”
“Well, Ethan, I’m not Rapunzel. And I sure as hell won’t let my hair down for you.”
Ethan’s nose twitched as he watched Savanah hand her father a glass flask with a bluish concoction gurgling without the need for flames. Steam rose, and sweetened the air with a mixture of juniper, peppermint oil, rue, violets and raspberries.
Savanah passed another flask under Ethan’s nose to which he grimaced. The second flask contained a burnt amber gel. “And yes, it is what you’re thinking. It is my very own sweet and sour sauce.” She didn’t need to read his mind. The look on his face said everything. She ran her fingertips across his blond fur, then rubbed behind his ears.
“Lower, sweets—the itch is much lower,” Ethan countered.
Savanah picked up a horsewhip, and cracked it. “Still itch?”
“Woman, I love the way you think.” Ethan growled at her through the muzzle.
Picking up one the syringes her uncle had laid out, she aimed it at his back leg, daring him, without words.
In his sternest tone, André shouted, “Savanah!” She jumped and the syringe went sailing like a dart just missing Ethan.
“That was close.” Savanah bent over and got in his face. “Next time I won’t miss.”
“Ha ha ha!” Ethan added sarcasm laced.
“What have I told you about becoming infatuated with creatures we have to put down?”
“Papa!” Her free hand atop her hip, she huffed a giant curl from her view. “Why can’t I keep him? You always kill off the cute ones. Always !” Savanah turned away from Ethan wearing a smile her orthodontist would have appreciated. “I never freakin’ get to have any fun.”
Although teasing him wasn’t a bad way to spend the night, for a brief moment Savanah’s fantasies stole her and the wolf far away from her family where it would be just the two of them, her as Red Riding Hood and Ethan, the big bad wolf chasing her, catching her, and devouring her in a completely sensual, erotic frenzy—tongue, teeth, fingers, penis…The whole nine yards—ah…make that inches and yes, it was bigger than her pinky!
Happy dance time was moments away.
She wanted to make love to him, show him