Free Werewolf Sings the Blues by Jennifer Harlow

survive, and those who do often take their own lives after their first change.”
    â€œWhy?” I ask.
    â€œIt is difficult to control the beast, even with years of experience. More often than not they don’t know what they’ve become and fail to take the proper precautions. A loved one often dies.”
    â€œJesus. That’s terrible.” It is. This werewolf thing sure does sound God-awful. Good thing I only want a one-night stand, not a relationship with one. I pause. “So, your children are werewolves?”
    â€œIf I ever have any, yes. The first change occurs during puberty.”
    No kids. Check. “And the full moon? Silver bullets? It’s all true?”
    â€œYes. With practice some can call their beast at will, no matter the phase of the moon, but during the full moon the magic overtakes us, and the change must come. Silver burns and makes it difficult to heal, so we bleed out. Normally we heal ten times faster than humans, we’re immune to most diseases, and we’re five times stronger than you. Our senses are more acute as well, along with our reflexes.”
    â€œYou are the Incredible Hulk,” I say with a smirk.
    â€œI beg your pardon?”
    â€œNever mind.” I drop the smile. “So, what do you do when you’re not doing Frank’s bidding? Have a job? A girlfriend? Wife? Hobbies?”
    â€œNo girlfriend or wife.” Double check. Rollercoaster is a go. “My friend Adam and I own a contracting company with a few other wolves. We do home improvement, construction, things like that.”
    â€œHobbies?” I prompt.
    â€œWoodworking. I construct beds, chairs, even a boat once.”
    â€œCool. I love men who work with their hands. It’s so … rugged.”
    He glances at me with confusion. “It’s just a hobby.”
    â€œOne I am sure you excel at.”
    His eyes narrow. “What makes you say that? There’s no basis for that statement.”
    â€œUm …” I have no clue what to say. “I don’t know. You seem like someone who’s good at whatever he sets his mind to. I’ll bet when we get to Maryland, I’ll be proven right.” I glance over at him. His eyes have returned to normal. Guess he buys this. I’ve got him talking now, don’t want to lose the momentum. “Do you have any brothers or sisters or anything?”
    Those eyes become pinpoints again, aimed at me. Now what? “Why do you ask? Why are you asking so many questions? Why do you care?”
    I do a literal double take at his vehemence. “Whoa. Okay, I’m just trying to get to know you. I’m not trying to steal your identity or anything. Chill. God. Are you always this defensive and paranoid?” I shake my head and stare straight ahead. “Forget I asked.”
    I don’t look over, but out of the corner of my eye, I spy Jason studying me again. I pout as if he’s bruised my feelings. He is an odd one. Limited social skills for sure. Good thing I enjoy a challenge from time to time. I pretend to literally shake the negativi ty off and turn up the radio. He hangs his head a few inches, properly cowed. Works every time. “I’m sorry,” he says.
    â€œIt’s fine,” I say, a little short. “Your orders were to protect me, not talk to me, right? You want to remain a grumpy man of mystery, no skin off my nose. Just trying to make the trip more enjoyable. I won’t try to bring you into the fun again.”
    â€œI didn’t … I …” He stops stammering. “I’m sorry. I … don’t talk much. Especially about myself.”
    Oh, my God. He’s shy! Huh. I dig it. I’ve never met anyone as hot as him who was anything but a narcissist. He is so adorable, I could just melt. Must keep this to myself though. I don’t want to scare him back into his hole. “Fair enough. We don’t have to share intimate details if