THE LAST WEREWOLF

CHAPTER 11 (Avery)

Avery didn't have to use the bathroom, but she had to get somewhere where she could think and sort things out. Dorian believed he knew what was best for her, and maybe he was right to some extent, but she would not stand by while he ran the show. She had one overbearing chief editor; she didn't need a second. Come to think of it, their partnership may have been a mistake. Her coming to his place tonight seemed like one, too.

While she washed her hands, she peered at herself in the mirror and felt an uneasiness sweeping over her.

With a huff, she inhaled a deep breath through her nose and blew it out through her mouth. As she placed her hand on the doorknob, she wondered how she would leave tonight. She didn't want to hurt his feelings. In the short time they had known each other, she'd sensed he had grown to care about her. Having only met him a few days ago, she felt a drawing toward him coming from somewhere within. He emanated a magnetism that was hard to ignore, with a mysterious personality that was infectious. He had revealed his genuine and kind nature through the way he treated her, respecting her boundaries.

But honestly, now that she thought about it, his level of concern for her seemed like it came from a deeper well. Like he had known her longer than she was aware of. The way he looked at her tonight, drinking her in. It was more than passion; it was something deeper, as if he'd had more time to develop a stronger bond than her. Crap. He had been thoughtful enough to ask her what kind of day she'd had at work. She sensed it. She knew it. He actually cared about her.

Still, she had a job to do, and she intended to do it, with or without his consent or help. With that determination, she exited the bathroom, but stopped in the hallway when she noticed a table decorated with family photos. On the wall above the table, frames hung of a man and woman in their fifties, maybe. Another picture was of a teenage girl with the older couple and a much younger Dorian. He might have been twenty, barely. Everyone was smiling. Of course, she remembered the story of how his mom, dad, and little sister were murdered by a werewolf named Vespa, his ex-girlfriend. Or mate. Whatever they called them in the real world. Avery had an excellent memory. She had to. She was a newspaper reporter.

A particular photo on the hall table caught her eye of a younger Dorian with his father, both holding fishing rods. Avery picked it up and smiled, nibbled on her bottom lip. He was a cutie back then. Judging by his handsomeness in the picture, she could see how he would mature into the man of today, aging well, still with a youthful edge but a seasoned and firm jawline. Given those gray-blue eyes of his, she had to admit he had the charm and the looks even more today.

As she sat the photograph down, another picture slipped out of the bottom of the frame. Avery flinched and then reached for it, snatching it up to look at. The image showed Dorian and another man, standing together, grinning, in parkas and holding the ends of their skis which were planted in the snow. She did a double take. The other man was the same one from up on the mountainside earlier in the day. She remembered her encounter with him and recalled how he warned her about Dorian before he disappeared. The man had walked off, and when she looked again, his vanishing act sent the pine straw fluttering in the air, gone without a trace. She realized now more than ever that something wasn't right about the man. The encounter seemed like a brush with the supernatural. Maybe this man was the werewolf that had stalked her the other night at her apartment. And Dorian knew this person well enough to go skiing with him. Fellow BSA agents, no doubt.

But something else made Avery's heart skip a beat. She swallowed an unbelievable lump the size of Texas! Dorian was wearing a bright red parka, but it wasn't the only thing that made her heart skitter and her breath catch in her throat. The blue lining of the jacket looked oh-so familiar, and not only that. There was a white tear near the bottom of the zipper on the inside.