“It’s not like there’s much else to do,” she muttered and pushed into the stretch.
She’d been a virtual prisoner at The Company’s main offices on the Seattle waterfront since the night the choppers had rescued them from the Index cabin. She’d asked Garen about letting her go home. The last time she’d asked, after a briefing around the upcoming San Diego/San Ysidro operation, he’d furled his brows and told her she’d be the first to know when he was tired of housing and feeding her.
Miranda changed legs. Her left one wasn’t as limber and this particular stretch nearly killed it. A familiar pain, far more pressing than the one in her leg’s ligaments and tendons, settled around her heart. She tried to ignore it, but it wouldn’t leave her alone. The clean, beautiful planes of Garen’s face shimmered before her. She wanted to feel his chiseled lips on hers again, trailing promise as they ran a fiery path down her neck and breasts. Her clit ached with need. Her breasts felt heavy. She’d been almost permanently aroused since right before Garen had made love to her on the airplane.
Yeah, and what got me going then was thinking about him.
Miranda had tried every trick in her arsenal. There’d been a few two-and three-hour blocks when she managed to actually accomplish something without mooning over Garen like a lovesick kid, but those were few and far between. There were so many things she wanted to talk to him about. Like what sort of wolf shifter he was and when he’d first shifted and if he’d had supportive family around to help him.
Her first shift had come when she was fourteen. Miranda remembered the odd pressure she’d felt inside her body and the wolf images that filled her mind. One long, lazy summer evening, the possibility of actually being the wolf in her mind had seemed so real she’d given into it. In seconds, her T-shirt and shorts lay in shreds on the flowered carpet of her upstairs bedroom. Her senses were painfully acute, and her body felt so odd she wondered if someone had slipped drugs into her dinner. She caught a glimpse of herself in her bedroom mirror just before her aunt slammed into her room.
“Abomination,” she’d screeched. “You’re just like your mother. I’ve been waiting for this.” Aunt Ellie flapped her hands at Miranda. “Find your human side again. Do it now.”
A revolver dangled from her aunt’s hand. Fear shot adrenaline through Miranda. Her wolf looked longingly at the open window and suggested they jump through, but Miranda was too frightened to do anything but her damnedest to obey her aunt. It took several attempts before she stood, naked and panting, in the pink and white bedroom that no longer looked like hers.
Ellie’s eyes were hard green stones. “I’ve been watching you close since you started to bleed. That was when my sister, uh…” She shook her head. “Never mind.” Her aunt’s eyes narrowed. “Put some clothes on. Those”—she pointed at the floor—“aren’t good for anything but the rag bin. You’ll pay me back out of your babysitting money.”
Miranda had grabbed a robe off the end of her bed and slipped into it, heart going like a trip hammer. “Please”—she’d held out both hands—“I need to understand.”
Aunt Ellie marched right up to her then and grabbed her face between hands that felt like pincers. “The only thing you need to know, young lady, is you cannot do that and remain here—or anywhere else.” She lowered her voice. “If anyone finds out, they’ll kill you. I could be imprisoned if they discovered I knew about you and didn’t turn you in.”
Tears rolled down Miranda’s face. “Who are they, and why do they hate me?”
“It’s not you, child.” Ellie’s voice softened. “It’s shifters. You can’t be a shifter and live. I’m sorry. Maybe if you don’t give into the temptation again, it will be easier to control. Your mom used to tell me she wished she hadn’t spent so
She’d been a virtual prisoner at The Company’s main offices on the Seattle waterfront since the night the choppers had rescued them from the Index cabin. She’d asked Garen about letting her go home. The last time she’d asked, after a briefing around the upcoming San Diego/San Ysidro operation, he’d furled his brows and told her she’d be the first to know when he was tired of housing and feeding her.
Miranda changed legs. Her left one wasn’t as limber and this particular stretch nearly killed it. A familiar pain, far more pressing than the one in her leg’s ligaments and tendons, settled around her heart. She tried to ignore it, but it wouldn’t leave her alone. The clean, beautiful planes of Garen’s face shimmered before her. She wanted to feel his chiseled lips on hers again, trailing promise as they ran a fiery path down her neck and breasts. Her clit ached with need. Her breasts felt heavy. She’d been almost permanently aroused since right before Garen had made love to her on the airplane.
Yeah, and what got me going then was thinking about him.
Miranda had tried every trick in her arsenal. There’d been a few two-and three-hour blocks when she managed to actually accomplish something without mooning over Garen like a lovesick kid, but those were few and far between. There were so many things she wanted to talk to him about. Like what sort of wolf shifter he was and when he’d first shifted and if he’d had supportive family around to help him.
Her first shift had come when she was fourteen. Miranda remembered the odd pressure she’d felt inside her body and the wolf images that filled her mind. One long, lazy summer evening, the possibility of actually being the wolf in her mind had seemed so real she’d given into it. In seconds, her T-shirt and shorts lay in shreds on the flowered carpet of her upstairs bedroom. Her senses were painfully acute, and her body felt so odd she wondered if someone had slipped drugs into her dinner. She caught a glimpse of herself in her bedroom mirror just before her aunt slammed into her room.
“Abomination,” she’d screeched. “You’re just like your mother. I’ve been waiting for this.” Aunt Ellie flapped her hands at Miranda. “Find your human side again. Do it now.”
A revolver dangled from her aunt’s hand. Fear shot adrenaline through Miranda. Her wolf looked longingly at the open window and suggested they jump through, but Miranda was too frightened to do anything but her damnedest to obey her aunt. It took several attempts before she stood, naked and panting, in the pink and white bedroom that no longer looked like hers.
Ellie’s eyes were hard green stones. “I’ve been watching you close since you started to bleed. That was when my sister, uh…” She shook her head. “Never mind.” Her aunt’s eyes narrowed. “Put some clothes on. Those”—she pointed at the floor—“aren’t good for anything but the rag bin. You’ll pay me back out of your babysitting money.”
Miranda had grabbed a robe off the end of her bed and slipped into it, heart going like a trip hammer. “Please”—she’d held out both hands—“I need to understand.”
Aunt Ellie marched right up to her then and grabbed her face between hands that felt like pincers. “The only thing you need to know, young lady, is you cannot do that and remain here—or anywhere else.” She lowered her voice. “If anyone finds out, they’ll kill you. I could be imprisoned if they discovered I knew about you and didn’t turn you in.”
Tears rolled down Miranda’s face. “Who are they, and why do they hate me?”
“It’s not you, child.” Ellie’s voice softened. “It’s shifters. You can’t be a shifter and live. I’m sorry. Maybe if you don’t give into the temptation again, it will be easier to control. Your mom used to tell me she wished she hadn’t spent so
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