Wild About You

Elsa swallowed hard. “But I do have a mark.”

“Yes. Unfortunately, your grandmother died before you were born, and the animal paw mark passed on to you. Your mother . . . well, she didn’t handle it well. Our mother’s death, and then your birth with the same mark on your shoulder . . .”

“So she started drinking.” And accidentally drove her car off a bridge in the middle of the night. Elsa closed her eyes briefly. She’d only been three years old at the time, so she didn’t remember much. “Didn’t I have a father?”

“I—I’m sure you did, but your mother never told us who he was. Someone she met in college, I guess.”

Elsa sighed. At the age of twenty-seven, she’d already lived longer than her mother had. “So why are you and Ula freaking out now?”

There was another pause. “I’m afraid some bad things have happened to the women in our family with the animal paw birthmark. We can’t seem to stop it.”

“What sort of bad things?”

“We’re not going to let it happen to you,” Greta insisted. “We’ll protect you.”

“From what?” Elsa asked. “What happened to my grandmother?”

“She was murdered.”

Elsa stiffened with a gasp.

“But don’t worry! We’ll come as soon as we can. I should go now so I can finish packing.”

The room swirled around Elsa, and she sat on the bed.

“Are you there? Elsa?”

“Yes.”

“Stay locked up in your room as much as possible. We’ll be there soon. Love you.” Greta hung up.

Elsa collapsed onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Her grandmother had been murdered? Was that the bad thing that happened to the women with the animal paw birthmark?

She touched her shoulder. Was she marked for death?

A chill ran down her body, and she shuddered. Was she destined, like her grandmother, to be murdered? Was this why her mother had turned to alcohol? She’d been too afraid that her baby daughter was doomed?

No. Elsa shook her head. She would think about this rationally. People were murdered every day. Her grandmother was an unfortunate statistic. As terrible as that was, it had to be true, because the curse didn’t make any sense. Who would kill someone over a birthmark? They would have to be crazy.

Greta had asked earlier if Howard seemed wild and crazy.

Elsa sat up. No, she wasn’t going to believe it. The curse was nothing more than a self-fulfilling prophecy. You believed you would be murdered, so you confronted a guy with a weapon, and then he was forced to kill you in self-defense. That was probably what had happened to her grandmother. It was her belief in the curse that had killed her.

“I’m not going to believe it,” Elsa told herself. “No matter what they say, I won’t believe it.”

The curse was a sick game that played with your head. It had played with her mother, and she’d lost.

Elsa stood and paced across the room. The walls closed in, making the room seem smaller and smaller.

Stay locked up in your room, Greta had said.

“No!” Elsa cried, anger welling up inside her. She would not cower in her room like a frightened animal. She would not succumb to fear. Fear had killed her mother.

“How could you do that?” Tears filled her eyes, and she tossed a pillow across the room. Her mother had died for no good reason. She’d abandoned a three-year-old child because she couldn’t handle her fear.

“How could you be so damned weak?” she yelled, then froze with a sudden realization. She’d never admitted it to herself before, but she was angry at her mother. Furious.

Her heart pounded, and her hands trembled as she raked them through her hair.

“I’m not repeating your mistake,” she whispered. “I’m going to be strong. I’m going to go on with my life and my job, and nothing is going to stop me.”

She turned to look at herself in the mirror above the vanity. “There is no curse.”

Chapter Eight

Howard was having trouble concentrating on his report at the Dragon Nest Academy. He’d risen early to familiarize himself with the grounds, stable, gymnasium, and huge mansion that housed the school and dormitories. He and Phil were the only security guards at the school now, and Howard had taken the day shift. Phil preferred staying up at night, since he was married to a vampire. Angus and Emma were already gone, having teleported to Mexico the night before to assist with the mission there.

Dougal had teleported Phil straight to the school, but Howard had asked to be teleported to the Draganesti house in White Plains, where he’d left his SUV. He’d packed up the rest of his belongings, including his stash of DVDs under the bed, and made arrangements for his furniture to be shipped to the school. Then he’d driven to the school, arriving later than expected. He’d been immediately instructed to go to the gatehouse.

And there he’d met Elsa.

Now he couldn’t think of anything else. Her image kept filling his mind, her wild mane of hair, her forest green eyes, her scent so sweet and fresh like a spring rain.

Get a grip. You’re acting like a silly young cub. He had a job to do. He glanced around the office, then started a list of supplies he would need. A file cabinet. The main office had files on every student and teacher, but he wanted his own copies. He also needed a secure place to store rifles and handguns. Every student over the age of fifteen should be trained in firearms so they could be called into action in case the school ever came under attack.

Ian had been in charge of security before this, and he and Angus had always assumed the school was safe as long as it was secret. In Howard’s experience, the Vamps tended to be too lax in their security measures, probably because if things got too dicey, they could simply teleport away. But he was a firm believer in always being prepared for the worst-case scenario.

He made a note to check the kitchen and make sure they had a supply of water and food that would last six months if necessary. And dammit, they needed donuts. He wrote that down and underlined it three times. He’d had a rude surprise this morning when he’d discovered there were no bear claws in the kitchen.

How could a man work without donuts? He’d been forced to drive into Cranville at the crack of dawn to pick up four dozen. The donut shop had been across the street from the motel, and he’d spotted Elsa’s rental car parked in front of one of the motel’s sixteen rooms. Even from across the street, he could catch a hint of her scent, fresh as a forest in springtime.

It had been awfully tempting to knock on the door. He’d almost left a box of donuts on her doorstep, but a deer was close by, munching on the flowers in the pot beneath her window. The donuts might not survive.

And he might appear too desperate. He’d practically begged her last night to see him again.

With a muttered curse, he loaded the donuts into the passenger seat of his SUV, then ate two dozen of them on the drive back to the school.

It was now ten thirty in the morning—time for a coffee break. He settled at the desk, a box of donuts nearby and a cup of coffee in his hand as he checked his e-mail on his laptop. A message from Harry.

Howard, the news is hitting today. See the link.

He clicked on the link, and it took him to the online version of Northern Lights Sound Bites. The headline—“Rhett Bleddyn Donates Millions to Unlikely Candidates.”

“Sweet.” Howard bit into a donut and read the article. Rhett had to be livid. By now, he’d probably checked the disaster area that had once been his bank accounts. He’d probably also discovered more than half of the money gone from his embezzling account in the Cayman Islands.

Howard chuckled and finished his donut.

The office door cracked open and a little face peered inside.

With a smile, he stood. “Tino.”

“Howard!” The little boy jumped inside, a wide grin on his face. “You’re back!”