Broken (Otherworld 6)

A grunt and I turned to see, not the golden-haired wolf I expected, but a jet black one.

"Er, and that's good," I said quickly.

Jeremy's dark eyes rolled. As he passed me, his tail whacked the back of my knees.

"I was talking about Clay, not me," I said. "I'm not looking for any mayhem. I already promised. I won't do anything to make this adventure more fun--I mean, dangerous."

He tilted his head, eyes meeting mine, then gave a soft chuff, knowing I was only teasing, and padded to the line of trees to peer out at the house.

Was I kidding about wanting something more exciting? On a conscious level, yes. My nightmares were all the warning I needed. This had to be as uneventful a pregnancy as I could make it. Yet there was that gnawing restlessness, not to do anything dangerous, but to get my adrenaline pumping, to burn off all this excess energy. With any luck, this excursion would be just what I needed--a safe adventure to tide me over for the next few months.

Another sound came behind me, this one the sharp scuffle of dead leaves. Then the ground vibrated as Clay pounced and landed at my side.

"You don't dare tackle me now, do you?" I said. "I should have known Jeremy wasn't you--you're never that quiet."

Clay slipped his head under my dangling arm, letting my hand slide over the top of his head and down to the ruff behind his neck. I ran my fingers through the thick fur, over the coarse top hairs and burrowed down to the soft fluff underneath.

Five years ago, I'd have pulled away the minute he brushed against me. Having him in wolf form while I was human had made me uncomfortable. I'd accepted what I was, but it had taken longer to hit the next step, to embrace it, and see the two forms not as separate identities, but dual aspects of one.

These days, I could talk to Clay as a wolf, touch him as a wolf, and know him as my lover. Know him in a nonbiblical sense, I mean. Any other way...well, that was a wall neither of us was interested in breaching.

I crouched beside him. He leaned against me and I let my hand rest on his shoulder. We sat there for a minute, looking over at the house. Finally, he let out a sigh.

"Pretty disappointing, huh?" I whispered, too low for Jeremy to hear.

Clay leaned into me hard enough that I had to put out my free hand to keep from toppling over. As I recovered my balance, he rumbled deep in his chest--a wolfish laugh. Then he craned his head back over his shoulder and licked my other hand.

"Apology not accepted," I growled.

I caught his muzzle. He wriggled free, grabbed my hand between his teeth and gave it a fierce shake. And that was as rough as our play got these days. As I stifled the urge to say "to hell with it," knock him flying and have a real tussle, I reminded myself that things would be back to normal soon enough.

I smiled, gave Clay one last brisk rub, then pushed to my feet.

"Okay, who's up for a little grand larceny?"

Turned out the experience wasn't as dull as I'd expected. My adrenaline started pounding when I touched the security keypad. As my latex-clad finger punched the buttons, my mind raced through every conceivable risk. What if I mis-hit a key? Could that seven on the paper really be a one? What if the homeowner had changed the code?

I punched in the last digit and held my breath as I braced for the alarms. Even when they didn't go off, I paused, half expecting a wailing car to rip into the driveway.

When the key caught in the lock, my gut did a back-flip. Had the lock been changed?

One last desperate jangle and the lock popped open. I turned the handle and pushed, still ready for the alarm. None came. I listened for footsteps, then looked around for any sign that Shanahan was there. According to Xavier, Shanahan gave a monthly investment seminar to prospective clients tonight, something he never missed. But there was always a first time...

Finally, with Jeremy right behind me, I zipped to the keypad. A green light flashed. Good. Or was it? Why was it flashing? Maybe flashing green meant security had been breached. If so, why was there a dimmed red light? It could be reverse psychology--green meant danger, red meant okay, letting unwary thieves think they were safe.

Something hissed and I jumped.

A cat stood in the doorway, some long-haired pampered thing that wouldn't last five minutes in an alley. One halfhearted growl from Jeremy and the cat tore off.

Jeremy's nails clicked against the parquet flooring as we set off. He slowed, put more weight on his pads and all went silent. My heart was pounding, every muscle tensed and ready for trouble.

We found the locked room easily enough. It was just a spare bedroom with the window bricked over and the door locked. The locking mechanism was so simple Xavier hadn't bothered providing a key--a sharp doorknob wrench of werewolf strength snapped it open.

We entered a library. Bookcases lined the walls, containing lots of knickknacks and a smattering of actual books. There were a

couple of uncomfortable-looking leather chairs and a full bar. As I spied it, I tried to remember the last time I'd had a drink. I'd never been much for alcohol, but it's funny how much more you miss things when you can't have them.

Jeremy grunted.