EXCERPT

“Oh my goodness!” Whitney exclaimed the instant they entered the famed Sanctuary biker bar.

Marguerite’s own eyes widened as she looked around the dark, grungy place that did appear to need a good and thorough cleaning. People were dressed in anything from biker leathers to t-shirts and jeans. The tables and chairs were a hodgepodge of rough design that didn’t even match. The stage area was liberally painted black with odd splashes of gray, red and white, and the billiard tables looked as if they’d survived many a bar fight in their day.

There was even straw spread out across the floor that reminded her of a barn.

The bar area to her right was occupied by rough-looking men drinking beers and yelling at each other. She could see a wooden stairway before them that led to an upstairs area, but she had no idea what was up there. Trouble came to her mind. A person could probably find a lot of trouble up there.

This place was definitely rustic.

But what held her attention most was the high concentration of handsome men working in the bar. They were everywhere. The bartenders, the waiters, the bouncers... She’d never seen anything like this.

Elise leaned over to whisper in her ear. “I think I might have just died and been sent to heaven. Have you ever seen so many gorgeous men in your life?”

It was all Marguerite could do to shake her head. It really was unbelievable. She was stunned that the news media hadn’t caught wind of this and sent in a team to investigate what was in the water to make so many hot men in one place.

Even Whitney was gaping and ogling.

“What kind of music is that?” Blaine said, twisting his lips into a sneer as a new song started over the stereo that was piped through the length and breadth of the bar.

“I think it’s called metal,” Todd shouted over the loud guitar solo.

“I call it painful myself,” Whitney said. “Did Nick really hang out here?”

Marguerite nodded. Nick had loved this place. He’d spent hours telling her about it and the odd people who called this place home. “He said they had the best andouille sausage in the world.”

Blaine scoffed. “Highly doubtful.”

Todd indicated a table to the back with a tilt of his head. “I think we should sit and have a drink in memory of old Nick. You only live once, you know?”

“Drink out of the glasses here and you probably won’t live through the night,” Blaine said. He looked less than enthusiastic as they followed Todd to the table and took a seat.

Marguerite shrugged her backpack off, then sat in the chair that Todd was holding out for her. The place was very loud and yet she could see Nick in here. There was something about it that reminded her of him. Aside from the rather tacky decor which Nick had always preferred. She often suspected that he dressed tacky just to nettle people.

To her it had been one of his more endearing traits. He was the only person she’d ever known who truly hadn’t cared what other people thought of him. Nick was Nick and if you didn’t like it, you could leave.

“Can I get you guys something?”

She looked up to see an extremely beautiful blonde woman around her own age. She was wearing a pair of skin tight jeans and a small t-shirt with the Sanctuary logo of a motorcycle parked on a hill that was silhouetted by a full moon. Underneath the picture was the tag line, Sanctuary: Home of the Howlers.

Blaine gave their waitress a hot once over that the woman wisely ignored. “Yes, we’ll all have the Westvleteren 8.”

The waitress frowned at his choice of beer. “What was that?”

Blaine got that familiar smug look on his face and used his do-I-have-to-talk-to-the-simple voice. “It’s a Belgian beer, sweetie. Please tell me you’ve at least heard of it.”

The waitress gave him a peeved glare. “Boy, I was born in Brussels and the last time I checked, this was my new homeland America, not my birthplace. So you can either order an American made beer or I’ll bring you water and you can sit there and act all superior until you puke, okay?”

Blaine looked as if he were ready to choke her. “Does your manager know that you talk to your customers like this?”

The waitress gave him a snide, indulgent smirk. “If you’d like to talk to my mother who owns this bar, my overindulgent brother who manages it or my father who delights in kicking everyone’s ass around about your treatment by me, just let me know and I’ll be more than happy to go get one of them for you. I know they’d just love to waste their time dealing with you. They’re real understanding that way.”

Marguerite stifled a laugh. She didn’t know the woman, but she liked her a lot. “I’ll have a Bud Lite, please.”

The waitress winked conspiratorially at her before she wrote it down on her small pad.

“Here too,” Todd said.

Whitney and Elise joined in with their orders. Then they all looked at Blaine and waited for his next nasty comment. “Bring mine unopened with a napkin and an opener.”

The waitress cocked her head with a devilish gleam in her eyes. “What? Afraid I’m going to spit in it, big boy?”

Todd laughed.

Before Blaine could respond, the blonde left them.

Marguerite’s smile faded as she suddenly felt something odd... The hair on the back of her neck rose. It was like someone was watching her.

Intently.

Menacingly.

Turning her head, she scanned the crowd, looking for the source of her discomfort. But there was nothing there. No one seemed to be paying any attention to them at all.

There were several burly groups of bikers playing pool. Tons of tourists and bikers milling about. There was even a group of seven men playing poker in one corner. Waiters and the waitress walked back and forth to the bar and tables delivering food and drinks while the two bartenders went about their business.

No one was even remotely looking in her direction.

I must be imagining it.

At least that’s what she thought until she spotted a man in the corner who appeared to be staring straight at her. Dressed in a baggy, untucked, white button down shirt covered by a dirty white apron, and faded, dingy black jeans that had seen much better days, he was a busboy who had paused in cleaning off a table. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled back to the middle of his forearms. His left arm held a bright, colorful tattoo that she couldn’t make out at this distance.

She had no idea what he looked like since his thick dark blonde hair obscured most of his face and fell over both of his eyes. The back of it hung just past his shoulders. In fact, given his hairdo she couldn’t really tell where he was looking, but every instinct in her body said it was at her.

There was something about him that seemed dark and dangerous. Predatorial. Almost sinister.

She rubbed her neck nervously, wishing he would turn his attention back to his job.

“Is something wrong?” Blaine asked.

“No,” she said quickly, offering him a smile. If she mentioned it, he would no doubt make a scene and get the poor man fired from a job he probably needed. “I’m fine.” But the feeling didn’t subside and there was something so animalistic and fierce about it that she was definitely unnerved.

###

Wren cocked his head as he watched the unknown woman who looked so out of place that he wondered how she’d happened into their bar. Sophistication and money bled from her every pore. She definitely wasn’t their usual clientele.

He could also tell that she wasn’t comfortable under his close scrutiny. But then no one was, it was why he seldom made eye contact with anyone. He’d learned a long time ago that no person or beast could stand the intensity of him for very long.

And yet he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her dark chestnut hair that she had tied back into a ponytail held traces of auburn highlights– that and her darker skin tone betrayed a Cajun heritage. She wore a delicate pink sweater set and a long khaki skirt with matching pink Espadrilles.

Best of all, she had a lush, curvy body that beckoned a man to hold it close and taste it.

She certainly wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but there was something about her that held his attention. Something about her that seemed lost and hurt.

Sad.

In the wilds of Asia where he’d been born, such a creature as she would have been killed and eaten by something stronger. Fiercer. Vulnerability of any kind was an invitation for death. And yet he didn’t feel that familiar swell of adrenaline that wanted him to attack the weak.

He felt an inexplicable desire to protect her.

More than that, he wanted to go over to her and offer comfort, but then what did he know about comforting a human? He was a feral predator in human form. All he knew was how to stalk and to kill.

How to fight.

He knew nothing of comfort. Nothing of women. Nothing of softness or kindness. He was alone in the world by choice and he liked it that way.

Marvin, the resident monkey mascot of Sanctuary, came running up to him with a new cloth for cleaning the tables. Wren took it from his hand as he forced himself to go back to cleaning the table. Still, he felt the unknown woman’s presence and before long, he found himself staring at her again while she talked to her group of friends.

###

Marguerite took a sip of her beer while Elise and Whitney ogled the men in the bar. She reached for a pretzel only to have Blaine slap her hand.

He looked aghast at her. “Are you insane? Do you know how long that has been out? How many grimy hands have been in it? For that matter, our termagant waitress probably poisoned it just for spite.”

Marguerite rolled her eyes at his unreasonable paranoia. She glanced back to the busboy who had moved closer now. He was working again, but even so she sensed that she was his primary focus.

She frowned as she saw a tiny brown spider monkey run up his arm to rest on his shoulder.

The busboy pulled a small carrot from his white apron’s pocket to hand to the monkey who ate it while he returned to work. She bit back a smile as she realized who this guy was. He must be Wren. Nick used to talk about him from time to time. He’d told her that at first he’d thought Wren was mute since he never, ever spoke to anyone. They’d known each other for a full year before Wren had finally mumbled, “hi,” one day when Nick had come in to visit his mother.

According to Nick, Wren was a complete loner who kept to himself and who refused to participate in the world. The only reason she knew it was him was that Nick would talk about the monkey... Wren’s only real friend, who was prone to steal their billiard balls while the two of them played in the back corner of the bar.

The monkey was named Marvin...

Blaine caught sight of her watching the busboy. He turned in his chair to see Wren who had returned to staring at her. At least that’s what it seemed like, but again, he kept his hair over his eyes so there was no way to know for certain.

“Is he bothering you?”

“No,” Marguerite said quickly, afraid of what Blaine might do. In a weird way, she felt almost flattered. Men didn’t normally notice her unless they knew who her father was. It had been her mother who had turned heads.

Never her.

“What are you looking at?” Todd snapped at the man.

Wren ignored him as he moved to the table beside theirs that was covered with glasses and a plate of half-eaten nachos.

Marguerite could sense that he wanted to speak to her and she found herself wondering what he looked like underneath all that blond hair. There was an air of danger around him. One of powerful restraint and yet she sensed that he didn’t want to attract anyone’s attention.

It was as if he wanted to blend in seamlessly with the background, but was completely unable to do so.

A strange image of a sitting tiger in the zoo came to her mind. That’s what he reminded her of. A large beast that was carefully watching those around him, detached, and yet confident that it could take down anyone who messed with him.

“What a freak,” Blaine said as he looked over to see Wren watching them. “Hey buddy, why don’t you do something with those disgusting dreads?” Blaine tossed a few dollars at him. “Why don’t you use that to get a real haircut.”

Wren completely ignored him and the money.

The monkey started squealing as if protecting Wren. Without a word, Wren patted the monkey’s head, then whispered something to it. The monkey jumped off his shoulder and scampered toward the bar.

Wren set his pan of dishes aside.

Her heart pounded as she realized he was coming toward her now. Up close, he was much larger than he’d appeared from a distance. For some reason, he slumped down and appeared to be around six feet, but if he were to straighten to his full height, she was sure he’d be around six two or three.

There was an aura of supreme power that surrounded him. One of speed and agility.

He was simply magnetic.

This close, she could finally see his eyes. They were a vibrant turquoise blue that was so pale they were haunting in their color.

And in their mercilessness.

He indicated her empty glass with a tilt of his chin. “Are you finished, my lady?” His voice was deep and resonant, mesmerizing. It sent a thrilling chill down her spine.

She smiled at his polite title. “Yes,” she said, handing it toward him.

He wiped his hand off on his apron as if he didn’t want to offend or dirty her before he reached for it.

At first she thought their hands might touch, but he moved his away as if he were afraid of making such intimate contact. A strange disappointment filled her.

Dropping his gaze, he took her glass, holding it as if it were precious and moved away. He set it in the pan, then glanced back at her.

“Excuse me, Rasta-mon?” Todd said rudely. “You don’t need to be looking at her, asshole. She’s way out of your league.”

He cut Todd a bored look that said he didn’t find him much of a threat.

“Wren?” the blond waitress said as she came up to him and confirmed his identity for Marguerite. The waitress paused to give them a warning glower before she softened her expression and looked back at Wren. “It’s time for you to take a break, okay, sweetie?”

He nodded.

As he started away, Blaine pushed at the pan in his hands. “Yeah, sweetie, hang out with your own kind in the gutter.”

Before she realized what Blaine was doing, he slung his drink in the man’s face.

Wren let out a sound that was a strange hissing growl that didn’t seem quite human. In a split second, he dropped the pan and lunged for Blaine.

Out of nowhere a group of men appeared to pull him back. She staggered to her feet and watched as the four much larger bouncers had to struggle to hold onto Wren. They surrounded him so well that Marguerite couldn’t even see him anymore as they formed a barrier as if to protect her group.

The waitress was livid. “Get out!” she snarled at them. “All of you.”

“Why?” Blaine asked. “We’re paying customers.”

Another blond man came up, one who bore a striking resemblance to the waitress. He must be the brother she had mentioned earlier who managed the bar. “You better do what Aimee says, boy. We just saved your life, but even we can’t hold him for too long. By the time his vision clears, you better be long gone or we’re not responsible for what he does to you.”

Blaine sneered at him. “He touches me and I’ll sue all of you.”

The man laughed menacingly. “Trust me, there won’t be enough of you left to feed through a straw, never mind file a lawsuit, dweeb. Now get out of my bar before I throw you out.”

“Come on, Blaine,” Todd said, pulling him toward the door. “We’ve been here long enough.”

Whitney and Elise balked at having to leave, but like dutiful zombies they got up and followed the men.

Marguerite stayed behind.

“Margeaux?” Todd asked.

“Go on. I’ll catch up later.”

Blaine shook his head at her. “Don’t be stupid, Margeaux. Our kind doesn’t belong here.”

She was so sick of the ‘our kind,’ ‘their kind’ mentality. She’d had quite enough of that in her life and much to her entire family’s chagrin, her thought was there were only two kinds of people in the world. Those who were decent and those who were mean.

Personally, she was sick to death of those who were mean. “Shut up, Blaine. Go home before I beat you.”

Blaine rolled his eyes before he headed for the door with Elise and Whitney in tow.

“Are you sure you want to stay?” Todd asked.

“Yes. I’ll catch a cab home.”

He looked less than convinced, but he must have recognized her determination to stay. “Okay. Be careful.”

She nodded, then waited for him to leave before she headed off in the direction where she’d seen them take Wren. This whole fiasco had been her fault. The least she could do was apologize for the fact that she was dumb enough to hang out with assholes.

She found a small hallway that led to the restrooms and to an area marked Private. Staff Only. At first she thought the men might have gone into the private office area until she heard voices drifting out from the men’s room.

“Don’t wet his face again, Colt, he’ll tear your arm off for it.”

Again she heard that fierce, animalistic growl and something that sounded like someone being pushed back.

“I told you,” the masculine voice said again. “Stupid humans. That boy’s lucky we didn’t let Wren have at him. You don’t pull a tiger’s tail unless you want to get eaten.”

“What the hell were you doing talking to that girl anyway?” another voice asked. “Jeez. Since when do you talk to anyone, Wren?”

She heard the growl again, followed by the sound of breaking glass.

“Fine,” the first voice said. “Have your tantrum. We’ll wait outside.”

The bathroom door opened to show her two men who were well over six feet tall. One had short, black hair and the other had long black hair pulled into a ponytail. They stopped between her and the door to eye her warily.

“Is he all right?” she asked them.

The one with long hair gave her a strange look. “You ought to go on and get out of here. You’ve caused enough trouble for one night.”

But oddly enough, she didn’t want to leave. “I...” She forgot her words as the bathroom door opened to show her Wren again as he left the room to enter the hallway too.

His shirt was wet, making parts of it cling to a very well muscled chest. He had a towel draped over one shoulder and his head was down. The gesture reminded her more of a predator that was watching the world warily, waiting to pounce than someone who was bashful or shy.

He approached her slowly, methodically. Something about his movements was reminiscent of a cat right before it brushed up against its owner to nuzzle her or mark her as his.

He wiped at his face with the back of his hand before he cut a sinister glare at the men.

“Leave,” he growled.

The one with long hair stiffened as if he hated the idea of being ordered about.

“C’mon, Justin,” the short-haired man who must be Colt said in a conciliatory tone. “Wren still needs time to cool down.”

Justin let out a low, sinister growl of his own, before he headed back into the bar.

Colt passed a warning look to her, then headed off to the counter.

Marguerite swallowed as she approached Wren slowly. This close she could tell that his baggy shirt covered a lean, hard body. His skin was a deep tawny gold that was so inviting that it should be illegal.

There was something about him that appeared wild, feral. He even looked like he’d slept in his clothes. It was obvious this man didn’t care what anyone thought of him. He didn’t follow fashion or any rule of civility. From what she’d overheard while they’d been in the bathroom, it didn’t even appear he was moderately sociable at all.

In theory she should be repulsed by him and yet she wasn’t. All she wanted to do was brush back the mop of blond hair and see if he was as handsome as she suspected.

“I’m so sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t know Blaine was going to do that to you.”

He didn’t speak. Instead he took a step toward her, so close now that she could feel the heat from his body. He reached out toward her. He paused his hand just before he made contact with her cheek and held it there, hovering while those eerie blue eyes scorched her.

Wren wanted to touch her so badly that he could taste it. He’d never wanted anything more. But then he knew that he shouldn’t.

She was human.

And she was beautiful. Her hair appeared softer than down. Her skin glowed with vital warmth. He would give anything for one tiny taste of that skin to see if she were as delectable as she appeared.

But he couldn’t.

An animal like him could never touch something as fragile as her. It was in his nature to destroy, never nurture. He let his hand fall away.

“Are you Nick’s friend he used to talk about?” she asked quietly.

He cocked his head at her unexpected question. “You knew Nick?”

She nodded. “I went to school with him. We used to study together. He said that he had a friend here named Wren who always kicked his heiney at pool. Was that you?”

Wren looked over at the pool tables and nodded as he remembered his friend. Not that Nick had really known anything about him. But at least Nick had tried to befriend him. It’d been a nice change of pace.

“It was me,” he whispered, not sure why he bothered when he seldom spoke to anyone.

But he wanted to speak to her. He loved the soft, gentle lilt of her voice. She appeared so tender. So feminine. A foreign, alien part of himself actually wanted to cuddle with her.

He leaned forward ever so slightly so that he could discreetly inhale the scent of her. Her skin was warm and sweet and held traces of talcum powder and a spicy wood scent of lotion. It made him hard and aching.

He’d never kissed a woman, but for the first time he wanted to. Her parted lips looked so inviting.

So delicious...

“Wren?”

He turned his head as he heard Nicolette Peltier’s voice behind him.

The older Frenchwoman approached them from the bar’s office. He could sense that Nicolette wanted to reach out and pull him away from the human, but like the others who made Sanctuary their home, Nicolette was afraid of him. His kind was unpredictable. Deadly.

Everyone feared him. Except for the woman before him.

But then she had no idea that he was a tigard walking in the skin of a human.

“I should go now,” he said to her, moving away.

The woman reached out and touched his arm. His groin jerked in response as that touch branded him with heated desire. It was all he could do to suppress the animal that wanted to take her for his own. Normally, he gave into those urges.

Tonight he couldn’t. To do so could hurt her and that was the last thing he wanted.

“I’m really sorry about what happened,” she said softly. “It was inexcusable and I hope they didn’t get you into any trouble or hurt you.”

He didn’t say anything as she glanced at Nicolette, then turned around and left.

She was gone. It went through him like a knife.

“Come, Wren,” Nicolette said. “I think it best if you end your shift now and retire for the night.”

Wren didn’t argue. He did need some time out of his human form, especially given how volatile he felt right then. It was as if his body was electrified. Elevated. He’d never felt anything like this in his life.

Without another word, he headed for the kitchen which had a door that led to the building next door where the animal-weres made their home.

Peltier House had long been a refuge for creatures like himself... creatures who had been thrown out of their clans for all manner of reasons. As Aimee so often said, they were all refugees and misfits.

Wren was more so than most. He’d never had an animal clan that he belonged to. Neither tiger nor leopard would tolerate his mixed presence. He was a mutant hybrid that should never have been allowed to live.

Here lately he could tell even the bears weren’t fond of him either. They damned sure didn’t trust him. It was subtle. They would gather up their cubs whenever they climbed on him. Or they would do like tonight and isolate him anytime they suspected that he might be getting angry.

That was why he’d valued Nick so much. Nick had treated him like he was normal.

“What the hell?” Nick would say. “We’re all screwed up someway. At least you bathe and I don’t have to fight you for chicks. In my book, that makes you all right.”

Nick had held a unique view of the world.

Wren pulled his wet shirt off as he headed up the stairs. Marvin came bounding up behind him. He’d only climbed halfway up when a bad feeling went through him.

The woman...

She was in trouble.

Wren mentally willed a black t-shirt on his body as he sensed imminent threat for her. Without a word to Marvin, he flashed himself out of the building, onto the street.
 

#


Marguerite slowed as she again felt the sensation of someone watching her from the shadows. She was heading down Chartres, toward Jackson Square so that she could grab a taxi and get home before it became any later.

Looking around, she half-expected to find Wren there.

She didn’t. What she found was four scruffy-looking men who were eyeing her with an unfounded interest. Fear assaulted her. Their attention was just a bit too focused. A bit too intense and threatening.

She glanced about, looking for other people, but this time of night, there weren’t any around.

Not even a tour group...

It’s okay. Stay in the light and keep heading forward. They won’t hurt you if you stay in plain sight.

She sped up as she heard the sound of running feet. Just as she was sure they would run past her, one of the men grabbed her and slung her into a partially opened courtyard.

Marguerite tried to push him away to run.

He slapped her hard. “Give me your purse, bitch.”

She was so scared, she couldn’t even think to pull it off her arm.

The other men ran into the courtyard and slammed the gate shut. One of them grabbed her bag and tore her shirt in the process of ripping it off her shoulder.

“Hey,” he said to the other three. “Y’all want to have some fun with her?”

Before they could answer, the one speaking went sprawling to the ground. Someone came out of the darkness and handed her purse back to her.

Marguerite looked up at the newcomer and wanted to cry as she saw Wren there. No longer slumped, he stood at his full height... and it was commanding. Intense. There was a feral gleam in his eyes that wasn’t quite sane as he put himself between her and the others. He looked as if he could easily kill everyone there and not even wince.

The men attacked.

She staggered back and watched in awe as he fought them off with an incredible skill. One mugger came at him with a knife. He caught the man’s wrist and twisted it until it snapped and the knife fell from his hand. Then he backhanded the man so hard, the attacker rebounded off the wall.

Another came at his back only to be flung over his head, to the ground while another rushed him from behind. He hit Wren full force, but Wren didn’t so much as stagger or flinch. He turned on the man and knocked him back.

Marguerite was relieved until one of the muggers pulled out a gun and aimed it at them.

Her breath caught as Wren froze.

A heartbeat later, the man fired the gun. Wren rushed him and knocked it out of his hands. The other three ran off as Wren slugged the one who’d held the gun. The man fell to the ground, then scurried away.

“Are you okay?” Marguerite asked as she ran over to Wren. “Did they shoot you?”

“I’m fine,” he said, picking up the gun from the ground. He opened it up and removed the bullets before he smashed it to pieces against the old stone wall. He dropped it, then turned to look at her as he tossed the bullets into the darkness. “Did they hurt you?”

Relieved beyond belief, she was shaking so badly that she wasn’t even sure how her legs could continue to hold her upright. She ached to reach out to touch him in gratitude, but there was something about him that said he didn’t want to be touched. “No, thanks to you. I’m fine.”

Anger darkened his eyes as he glanced to her torn shirt. She could sense that he wanted to chase them down on her behalf and it warmed her greatly.

“I don’t normally do things this stupid,” she said quietly. “I tried to call a taxi on my cell phone, but they said it would be a twenty minute wait. I thought I could make it to the Square to hail one down there or to at least wait at the Café Du Monde where it would be safer. And then the next thing I knew they were after me... Thank God you came when you did.”

Her gratitude seemed to make him uncomfortable. “C’mon,” he said, tilting his head toward the street. “I’ll walk you home.”

“I live down by the zoo. It’s too far to walk.”

He looked as if he might argue. “I’ll get you home.”

Marguerite put her purse on her shoulder as he tucked his hands into his pockets and led her out of the courtyard, back to the street. His white shirt was gone and instead he wore a black t-shirt that hugged a fit and tight body. Even though he wasn’t overdeveloped like a body builder, she could see every muscle definition on him.

He was incredibly hot and sexy. And at that moment, he was her hero. She’d never been more grateful to anyone. Little did he know that he could do anything he wanted to with her right then and she wouldn’t have minded in the least. In fact, she wanted him to hold her, but he didn’t appear interested at all.

She felt the familiar pang of being nothing but a friend to guys. Just once in her life, she wished that a man would look at her with passion in his eyes. That a man would find her sexy and attractive. But they never did, not unless they were courting her father and were using her to get to him.

She might as well be invisible. She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed as the familiar grief settled deep in her heart.

As they walked, Wren didn’t speak. In fact, he kept his head bent low and his gaze on the ground. Even so she could tell that he was very much aware of everything around them.

She just wished he was every bit as aware of her.

Wren kept his teeth clenched. He could smell her desire and her uncertain nervousness. But he didn’t know how to make her more at ease. He’d never been one to talk very much to anyone. Most people seemed to prefer him silent or they ignored him entirely. Which was normally fine by him.

Not to mention it was taking a lot of concentration to remain in human form while he was wounded. The gunshot hadn’t missed him. It’d hit him in his right shoulder and it hurt like hell. He was burning a lot of extra magic energy to hide the tear in his shirt and the blood.

But he didn’t want her to know. It might make her feel bad to realize he’d been hurt defending her. Or, gods forbid, she might want him to seek medical help which was the last thing he could do.

Or even worse, she might feel nothing at all and that would make him angry. Humans could have strange emotions that he didn’t quite fathom.

“Have you worked at Sanctuary long?” she asked.

“A little while.”

She nodded. “Do you go to school anywhere? Or do you just work full time at the bar?”

“I go to school.” It was a lie and he wasn’t even sure why he’d told it. Kyle Peltier– the youngest member of the Peltier bear clan– and a couple of the other waiters went to college, but Wren wasn’t the type to mingle enough with humans to bother.

What he needed to know to survive had never been taught in a classroom.

But for some reason he didn’t understand, he wanted to appear normal to her. For the first time in his life, he didn’t want to be different. He wanted her to think of him as just an average guy that she might have met. Being different had never bothered him before, but tonight it did.

It was really stupid. He was odd even in the Were-Hunter world.

“Which school?” she asked innocently.

“UNO.” The University of New Orleans was always a safe bet. Tony and Mark went there and he’d overheard them enough to be able to lie about classes and campus if he needed to.

She stopped and offered him a smile that made him instantly hard. “I’m Marguerite by the way.”

Recognition hit him at the mention of her name. “You’re Maggie, Nick’s study partner.”

Marguerite smiled again. “I take it Nick must have mentioned me.”

Yeah. Nick’d had a tremendous crush on her. He’d wanted to ask her out, but never had. “She’s like Venus and having met Venus a time or two, I know that no mere mortal man has a right to touch her.”

Wren supposed that went for tigards as well. Nick had been right, there was something about Maggie that was very special.

“He said you were the most intelligent woman he’d ever known, but that you couldn’t study for shit.”

She laughed. The sound was musical and soft, and it warmed him more than it should. “That sounds like Nick.”

Marguerite cleared her throat as he pierced her with that intense stare of his. There was something so animalistic about him that it was almost frightening. She felt like someone in the jungle, cornered by a wild animal.

“Sorry,” he said, dropping his stare back to the ground. “I didn’t mean to make you nervous again. I know people don’t like for me to look at them.”

She frowned at his deadpan tone. Even so, she sensed that it hurt him. “I don’t mind.”

“Yes, you do. You’re just being polite.” He started back down the street.

How did he know that? Most men were far from intuitive.

Marguerite rushed to catch up to him. “Is the monkey I saw you with your pet?”

He shook his head. “Marvin owns himself. He just likes to hang out with me.”

She laughed at the sweetness of his words. “I’ve never met anyone who had a monkey for a friend before.”

He snorted in disbelief. “I don’t know. I think those two guys your were with would qualify as primates, but then that’s an insult to the primates and I don’t want Marvin to get pissed at me. He has higher sensibilities, you know?”

She laughed. “You might have a point with that. But they’re not my friends. I only study with them.”

She saw his frown as he glanced at her. “Why do you study with assholes?”

Maybe she should be irritated at him for insulting her group, but then why? She actually agreed with him. “Habit. I’ve known Todd and Blaine since we were kids. You have to understand that they haven’t had an easy life. They both have severe bonding issues brought on by apathetic and absent parents.”

He looked less than impressed by her excuses for their rudeness. “Did their parents ever try to kill them?”

“No,” she said, stunned that he would even ask such a thing, “certainly not.”

“Did their mothers ever tell them that they were abominations who should have been eaten the minute they were born?”

“Of course not.”

“Did their parents ever sell them to a zoo?”

He was being ludicrous now and it was all she could do not to roll her eyes at him. “No one’s parents would do such a thing.”

The look he gave her said she was a fool if she believed that. “Then trust me, their life wasn’t so bad.”

Marguerite paused as he continued walking. Was he serious? No, he was just toying with her. He must be. No one’s parents would sell them to a zoo. That was stupid. He was throwing out random weirdness just to prove a point.

She rushed to catch up to him. “What about your parents?” she asked, trying to make light of his words. “Did they ever do any of that to you?”

He didn’t respond, but something in his manner said that it might not be a farfetched conclusion...

No, no parent would do that to their child. Her father was a total jerk most of the time and not even he’d ever been that bad.

“Wren?” she said, pulling him to a stop. “Be honest. Did your parents ever really try to sell you to a zoo? C’mon. Be real.”

He immediately twisted his arm out of her hold. “There’s a song that the Howlers cover a lot when they play at Sanctuary. It’s called VFW: Veterans of a Fucked Up World. You ever heard of it?”

“No.”

“You should.” Something flashed in his eyes like a nightmare he was trying to banish. The deep sadness there tore through her. “Everyone has scars from their life, Maggie. Just forget I said anything and let’s get you home so you can get cleaned up.” He turned and continued on his way.

She followed after him, wondering just what his scars were. For a young man, he had an ancient wisdom in his eyes. One that said he’d lived far beyond his apparent twenty-something years.

“You know, it helps to talk about it.”

Wren arched a brow at her. “I notice you’re not reminiscing your childhood with me, Maggie. I definitely don’t know you well enough to reminisce about mine.”

He had a point. There was a lot of pain she kept hidden inside her and it made her wonder what he had inside of him. He wore the look of a street kid. The kind who’d been thrown out to fend for himself far too young. He had that fierce toughness that often marked them.

It was what made her want to reach out and hold him. But she’d seen enough of his anger to know he wouldn’t welcome it. All things considered, she had to give him credit. He hadn’t turned completely mean. He did work and he went to school. Those two things said a lot about his moral fiber. Most of the people she’d known who’d been thrown out had ended up as criminals who preyed on others.

Wren had saved her life.

He led her to Decatur Street, in front of the Square where he quickly hailed a cab to take her to her renovated condo that was only two blocks from the Audubon Zoo.

As they rode through the Quarter, she could sense Wren watching her even though she couldn’t see his eyes in the darkness. The sensation was hot and unsettling.

Without a word, without moving a single inch, he stayed in the shadows like some lounging predator that was eyeing his next lunch. There was something completely eerie about the way he was able to sit like that. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he’d stopped breathing. He really was a human statue.

Nervous, she watched the street lights cut across the angles of his face from the corner of her eye. The silence was only relieved by the low music of the cab driver’s Cajun music CD. She wanted to think of something to say, but since Wren wasn’t making an effort, she thought it best to follow his suit.

When they finally reached her driveway, Wren had the driver wait for him while he walked her to her door.

There was something strangely sweet about his actions. It was totally incongruous with the air of lethal danger that clung to him.

“Well, this is it,” she said as she dug her keys out of her purse. “Home sweet home.”

Opening the door, she stepped inside and debated on whether or not she should invite him in. Part of her wanted to, but she was afraid of being rebuffed. As a rule, guys thought of her as a friend, never as a girlfriend. It’d always bothered her and tonight, she didn’t think she could deal with his rejection after all she’d been through.

Wren sensed her uncertainty as he stood on her doorstep. It reached out to the animal in him and set it on edge. It was always in his nature to attack whenever he sensed weakness, but with her it was different. He wanted to soothe her.

And that scared the shit out of him.

“Good night,” he said, stepping away. He needed to put some distance between them.

“Wren?”

He paused to look back at her.

“Thank you so much. I owe you more than I can ever repay.”

He inclined his head to her. “It’s okay, Maggie. Just stay out of trouble.” He headed back for the cab.

“How much do I owe you for the taxi?” she called after him.

Wren just waved at her over his head. He was tempted to laugh at her offer. Why would she think that he’d charge her for seeing her home?

Women... he’d never understand them.

He paused at the cab’s door and dared a quick look at her to see her framed in her doorway. She looked so fragile and beautiful. He wanted to kiss her so badly that he could already taste those full, tempting lips. But more than that, he wanted taste the rest of her body. He wanted to know every scent and curve of her flesh.

His hormones were playing havoc with him. His entire body felt as if it were on fire and alive. He wasn’t sure how to cope with this. In truth, it frightened him. If he were to lose control, he could easily hurt or even kill her.

In his mind, he could envision her naked. See her underneath him as he claimed her not as an animal, but as a man...

Leave!

He had no choice. He didn’t belong here and he didn’t belong with her.

There was no place where he did belong. No matter how much he might want otherwise, there never would be. His life had to be spent along.

###

Marguerite forced herself not to react to Wren’s hot, devouring stare. She ached to brush his hair back from his eyes so that she could see what exactly he looked like. She’d never been so attracted to any man, especially not one she really had no idea what he looked like.

It was ludicrous and yet there was no denying the way her body felt.

He got into the taxi and slammed the door shut with a finality that echoed through her.

Marguerite watched the cab drive away as she felt an inexplicable urge to call Wren back. There was something so lonely about Wren that it had reached out and touched her deeply.

But it was too late now. He was gone. And she would most likely never see him again.

###

As Wren paid the driver only a block away from Maggie’s condo, he was starting to sweat from the effort of remaining in human form. He had to get out of here and back home ASAP. If he lost consciousness as a human, he would immediately turn into his true form. And the last thing he needed was to be passed out in large cat form.

That would be a one way ticket to a government lab somewhere. He’d seen enough episodes of X-Files and Buffy to know that was the last place he wanted to be.

Ducking into a dark shadow behind a garage, he flashed himself back to Peltier House and into Carson Whitethunder’s examination room.

A Were-Hawk, Carson was the resident vet and doctor for all the nonhuman inhabitants of Nicolette Peltier’s Sanctuary.

Which there were many. Sanctuary had been set up a little over a hundred years ago to be a haven for any and all species. The Peltiers themselves were Were-Bears while the rest of the inhabitants were leopards, panthers, wolves, and even a dragon. The only species missing from their ranks was a jackal, but the jackals were even more peculiar than the normal oddballs that made up their race. And as such, they stayed away from the other Were-Hunter branches.

As was typical, Carson was in his office, reading a medical text. Native American in human form, he had long black hair that was always worn pulled back with a western tie. His black brows slashed above eyes that were a peculiar hazel green. Tonight he was dressed in a dark green turtleneck, blazer and jeans.

Wren walked over and tapped on the door’s glass before he pushed it open.

Carson glanced up. “Hang on a sec, Wren.”

Wren tried, but his legs buckled. An instant later, he flashed to his true form of half white tiger, half snow leopard. It was something that disgusted him. Normally, he picked one form or the other, but wounded...

This was all he could manage.

Carson got up with a curse and rushed over to him. “What happened?”

Wren couldn’t respond. He was trying to stay conscious, but the instant Carson touched his wound and pain shot through him, everything went black.

###

Carson cursed again as he saw the blood that completely coated the underside of Wren’s chest. He grabbed the Nextel phone off his desk and paged his assistant. “Margie, get up here to the lab. It looks like Wren’s been shot.”

He also paged a couple of the bears from downstairs to help pick Wren up and move him to a surgery table. Though Carson as a Were-animal was stronger than most humans, Wren was an extremely large tigard that weighed in at a good eight hundred pounds whenever he was in animal form. There was no way in hell he was going to get the behemoth cat off the floor without help.

Papa Peltier was the first one to appear. At a cool seven feet in height in human form, he posed a fearsome sight. His long, wavy blond hair floated around a face that appeared about forty in human years. In reality, the bear was closer to five hundred. Dressed in a navy t-shirt and jeans, Papa Bear was rugged and tough... the kind of man or bear that only a fool would tangle with.

He frowned as he saw the tigard on the floor. “What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know,” Carson said as he held a pressure bandage to Wren’s chest. “It’s definitely a bullet wound. I have no idea how he got it. He knocked on the door, then fell down unconscious.”

A second later, three of the Peltier quadruplets came in and helped him lift Wren to a surgical table. Margie joined them and quickly set about prepping the room for surgery.

Margie Neely was one of the few humans who knew who and what the members of Sanctuary were. She was a petite red-head who had been a waitress in the bar until a mishap had betrayed the Weres to her. She’d been so calm and accepting that they had embraced her as one of their own and then paid to have her trained to be an assistant to Carson.

Dev Peltier, who like his brothers, bore a striking resemblance to his father, moved back to let Carson near Wren again. “He was in a fight earlier tonight with some humans,” the young bear said. “I broke them up and sent them home. You don’t think one of them came back and did this to him, do you?”

“Nah,” his twin brother Remi said as he stepped away from the table they had placed Wren on. “They were rich-pukes. They wouldn’t have dared endanger their trust funds for something like this.”

Dev sighed. “Since it’s Wren, there’s no telling who he pissed off. But at least we know it was a human. No Were-Hunter would ever use a gun. It’s too crass.”

Papa agreed. “C’mon, boys, let Carson work and we’ll find out what happened whenever Wren wakes up.”

The bears withdrew while Carson scrubbed his hands.

As Margie touched Wren’s side to prep him, he came awake with a vicious snarl, then lashed out at her.

She jumped back with a curse and cradled her arm to her chest.

Carson scowled as he realized Wren had torn her arm open. “Dammit, Tiger,” he snarled an instant before he tranked him. Still Wren tried to fight him until the sedative took effect. “Watch that temper of yours.”

“I’m okay,” Margie said as she wrapped a towel around her savaged arm. “It’s my fault. I didn’t realize he’d wake back up. I should have known better.”

Carson shook his head as he inspected the damage. She’d definitely need stitches. “I should have warned you. His kind are extremely vicious when wounded. They don’t like others anyway and they’ve been known to rip the head off anyone who comes near them.”

“Yeah, I was down in the bar when the humans threw a drink in his eyes. I’m still not sure how Justin and Colt managed to pull him away from them before he pounced.”

Carson let out a tired breath. “Wren’s getting more unstable. I don’t know how much longer he can stay here.”

He saw the concern in her eyes as she looked up at him. “That’s what Nicolette said after she sent Wren into Peltier House. If he pounces again like that, she’s going to make him leave.”

Carson looked back at his unconscious patient. “God have mercy on him then. The best thing we could do is strip him of his powers and dump him back in the past in a rain forest somewhere. It’s probably what they should have done to him instead of bringing him here.”

“Nicolette is already making those preparations. Since his father went mad, she assumes Wren will follow.”

Carson looked back at Wren. His chest tightened. He’d known the tigard since Wren had been brought here almost twenty years ago. Traumatized by the violent and gory death of his parents, Wren had just been entering puberty then. His powers had been unstable and shaky. But they’d been too strong for them to strip, especially since the boy’s guard had been up. He’d trusted no one to come near him and as a result, there had been no way they could control him.

But now...

Now Wren’s guard was extremely lax around them. At least most of the time. It would be easy to catch him off-guard and strip his powers.

Such a thing was a last resort for their kind. It was reserved solely for those who couldn’t pass in the human world. Or those who threatened to expose the Were-Hunters to public scrutiny.

Wren had never wanted to blend. He prided himself on being a misfit and outcast. No one had minded since he did his job in the bar and didn’t even try to speak to the humans.

Tonight that had changed. He had gone after a human female. Not that contact with females was forbidden. Most of their males took human lovers from time to time. But they had to be careful who they chose.

If Wren’s indiscretion threatened them, then there would be no choice.

He would be sacrificed in a heartbeat.