Page 36 of Fangs for the Memories
“Liberating wealth they won’t miss.” Ferenc takes another sip of his coffee, and I’m not sure if this is werewolf humor or Hungarian humor. “Eat up, kedves, you’re going to need your strength today,” he adds.
A very, very bad pulse of desire runs through me when he says the words. A pulse which is hoping to be kept up all night and then walk funny in the morning. A pulse I absolutely should not be feeling about anyone, let alone Ferenc.
He’s dangerous. And I don’t need any more complications in my life.
Ferenc’s nostrils flare. I shrug. Mafia kingpin or not, he does owe me a wardrobe, and once I’ve taken him shopping, he certainly won’t be as chipper as he is now.
I take a bite out of my pastry, swig my coffee, and put the cup down.
“Are you ready, Ferenc?” I ask. “Because you haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen me shop.”
“I’ve seen my mother shop, and that’s prepared me for life.” He responds.
I’m caught slightly off guard by his comment about his mother. After all, of course there have to be female werewolves too. I did a bit of googling while I was getting dressed (my phone and passport being the only things I had on me in the caves), and being bitten by a werewolf is not the only way you end up as one.
It’s also passed down the family line. The article I read speculated it was some sort of recessive gene, but clearly if being bitten makes you a werewolf, that can’t be the case. Other than that, not an awful lot is known about werewolves by humans.
It does make me feel a little silly about begging Ferenc not to bite me yesterday, like werewolves are some sort of low rent vampires.
There isnothingremotely low rent about Ferenc or his set up.
Viktor sidles into the room. “Your car is here.” He pauses. “Boss,” he adds uncomfortably.
I look between them. Why do I feel like there’s something going on?
Ferenc walks over to the huge gargoyle and pats him on his chest before leaving the room. I take one final swallow of my coffee and go to follow him. But he’s already back in the room with the coat I had last night.
“Wear this.” He gives Viktor a brief glance. “It’s cold out there, and yours is not suitable for the weather.”
“This is becoming a thing when my belongings are not up to scratch and you have to replace them.”
“It is my pleasure, little mate…I mean, Grace,” Ferenc says.
“Smooth, boss, real smooth,” Viktor rumbles. “Shall we?” He gestures at the staircase. “It’s not getting any warmer.”
Ferenc
If it was possible for me to tear out Viktor’s throat, I would. Even him looking at my mate sets all my fur on end.
Shame killing a gargoyle takes more than claws and teeth. It’s the reason I keep the old bastard around. That and he’s excellent security.
Without him, I have no doubt Grace would have been taken by the Darasz and in the hands of whomsoever wants her as leverage.
My Mercedes G-Class sits waiting for us, engine humming. The streets of Budapest are kept clear during heavy snow, but this one is armored against any other creatures which might want to harm Grace, and after all, there’s no reason not to take it.
I help her inside. Even with my coat, I detect a little shiver from her in the icy morning air, but that’s most likely because she is only wearing my shirt underneath the coat.
I genuinely thought I was going to mess myself like an untried youth when she came into the room wearing it. My cock, despite my attentions in the shower, which took place without her, more’s the pity, remains swollen, and seeing her in my clothing very nearly tipped me over the edge.
Today is going to be another difficult day. Balancing the desire to claim her with the necessary willpower not to mate her and claim her on the spot.
And, from the scent she has released so far, I would say she is interested. But from what she has told me about the foul human who humiliated her and cheated on her, I can understand why she would not want to be around any male, let alone me.
So, I need to prove to her I can be the best of males. I have to show this delicious morsel I’m a worthy mate. Especially as it’s crystal clear humans have no such thing as fated mates, or her former man would not have left such a precious jewel by the wayside.
Not that it would have mattered at all. Even if she had been with him, I would have challenged him and won her in a fair fight. Grace would have belonged to me. I would have made sure of it.
The SUV glides out of my inner courtyard and into the snow filled streets. Everywhere people are hurrying through the cleared pavements and the light dances from the white snow onto the buildings.
