sign of renewed aggression, but other than the impassioned cry of “Mine!” the troll did nothing else. Soon, it was again trilling the ultrasonic sound that pierced his eardrums with agony.
Hunter’s mid-form enhanced hearing was proving to be a detriment. In an attempt to escape the painful sound, he backed further away, shaking his head, his brain rattling with the agitating noise. On the fringes of his attention, he picked up the murmurs of his team as they debated coming to his assistance. He held a closed fist up, the symbol to do nothing, to wait on further developments.
Just as he lowered his hand, a focused mental cry of caution of needed assistance touched him. Fortrayn’s voice screamed in his head, giving warning -- Chase seeking to foul his den!
Hunter sucked in a breath, panic racing through him. He had to get home, had to stop Chase from claiming his bitch. He came out of his crouch, the troll forgotten in his urgency to get to his woman. Snatching up his boots and shirt, Hunter loped toward the tollbooths and his team. As he ran, his mid-form melted into skin and he dragged on his shirt one-handed, struggling with the flapping sleeve.
“What’s the matter? Why are you leaving that troll on my bridge?”
Morrison’s quarrelsome question bounced off him, not worthy of an answer as Hunter leaned against the side of a booth and pulled his socks and boots on. “Emergency came up at home,” he informed the team. “Do nothing. Watch and observe. I’ll be back.”
The commissioner threw his hands up in the air. “I can’t fucking believe this! First, you tell me to clear the bridge, and then you waltz off as if you have all the time in the world.”
Kevin stormed over to the door of the booth and pointed at the otherworldly squatter.
Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love
55
“There’s a troll on the Golden Gate Bridge! What are we supposed to do while you go home to your own little emergency?”
“Nothing.” Hunter stamped his foot down in his boot and straightened up. “The troll isn’t going anywhere. In case you weren’t paying attention, we fought to a draw. I wasn’t winning out there.”
“What about security? Are you just going to leave that creature there? What if it wanders?”
Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose and gave Morrison a fulminating glare. “Security is your providence, Commissioner. Simply keep the bridge closed if you’re so worried. As for the troll ... if left alone, it will stay put. As long as no one crosses the territorial boundary the creature has claimed, there should be no further violence.”
“I forbid you to go.”
Hunter looked at his former partner as if he was insane. “Are you drunk, Kevin?”
“Do not even think about leaving here until you resolve this mess.”
Agony ... terror ... shame ... rising lust ... The emotions, tinged with a dark, self-hatred and anguished despair ripped though his mind, freezing him in his tracks.
Melody!
Galvanized, Hunter started for his bike, only to have Morrison yank him back. “I said you’re not going anywhere!”
Hunter pivoted and grabbed the commissioner by the shirt, lifting him off his feet.
Peeling back his lips to reveal his fangs, he got in Kevin’s face. “My woman is in danger. This damned bridge can fall into the lake as far as I care. Don’t try to stop me getting to her. I’ll gut you, stuff your intestines down your throat and leave you here to bleed out.”
Five minutes later, the Harley roared to life. Hunter peeled off the bridge, gunning the motor of the powerful touring machine. Disobeying every traffic law, he broke the speed limit heading for home. He chanted Melody’s name like a mantra, praying he wasn’t already too late to stop Chase from hurting her.
56 Camille Anthony
Chapter Seven
Melody was elbow deep in cookie dough when the knock came at the front door.
Hands sticky with her kitchen sink recipe, which included folding walnuts, pecans, coconut,
Hunter’s mid-form enhanced hearing was proving to be a detriment. In an attempt to escape the painful sound, he backed further away, shaking his head, his brain rattling with the agitating noise. On the fringes of his attention, he picked up the murmurs of his team as they debated coming to his assistance. He held a closed fist up, the symbol to do nothing, to wait on further developments.
Just as he lowered his hand, a focused mental cry of caution of needed assistance touched him. Fortrayn’s voice screamed in his head, giving warning -- Chase seeking to foul his den!
Hunter sucked in a breath, panic racing through him. He had to get home, had to stop Chase from claiming his bitch. He came out of his crouch, the troll forgotten in his urgency to get to his woman. Snatching up his boots and shirt, Hunter loped toward the tollbooths and his team. As he ran, his mid-form melted into skin and he dragged on his shirt one-handed, struggling with the flapping sleeve.
“What’s the matter? Why are you leaving that troll on my bridge?”
Morrison’s quarrelsome question bounced off him, not worthy of an answer as Hunter leaned against the side of a booth and pulled his socks and boots on. “Emergency came up at home,” he informed the team. “Do nothing. Watch and observe. I’ll be back.”
The commissioner threw his hands up in the air. “I can’t fucking believe this! First, you tell me to clear the bridge, and then you waltz off as if you have all the time in the world.”
Kevin stormed over to the door of the booth and pointed at the otherworldly squatter.
Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love
55
“There’s a troll on the Golden Gate Bridge! What are we supposed to do while you go home to your own little emergency?”
“Nothing.” Hunter stamped his foot down in his boot and straightened up. “The troll isn’t going anywhere. In case you weren’t paying attention, we fought to a draw. I wasn’t winning out there.”
“What about security? Are you just going to leave that creature there? What if it wanders?”
Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose and gave Morrison a fulminating glare. “Security is your providence, Commissioner. Simply keep the bridge closed if you’re so worried. As for the troll ... if left alone, it will stay put. As long as no one crosses the territorial boundary the creature has claimed, there should be no further violence.”
“I forbid you to go.”
Hunter looked at his former partner as if he was insane. “Are you drunk, Kevin?”
“Do not even think about leaving here until you resolve this mess.”
Agony ... terror ... shame ... rising lust ... The emotions, tinged with a dark, self-hatred and anguished despair ripped though his mind, freezing him in his tracks.
Melody!
Galvanized, Hunter started for his bike, only to have Morrison yank him back. “I said you’re not going anywhere!”
Hunter pivoted and grabbed the commissioner by the shirt, lifting him off his feet.
Peeling back his lips to reveal his fangs, he got in Kevin’s face. “My woman is in danger. This damned bridge can fall into the lake as far as I care. Don’t try to stop me getting to her. I’ll gut you, stuff your intestines down your throat and leave you here to bleed out.”
Five minutes later, the Harley roared to life. Hunter peeled off the bridge, gunning the motor of the powerful touring machine. Disobeying every traffic law, he broke the speed limit heading for home. He chanted Melody’s name like a mantra, praying he wasn’t already too late to stop Chase from hurting her.
56 Camille Anthony
Chapter Seven
Melody was elbow deep in cookie dough when the knock came at the front door.
Hands sticky with her kitchen sink recipe, which included folding walnuts, pecans, coconut,
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