The Wolven
Page 11

Some questions in life simply had no answers; that much Shauna knew. But to her, not having answers to such grievous questions was almost as unbearable as the situation that prompted them in the first place.
Once Simon had been loaded into the SUV, she’d helped Danyon clear the area of bloody clothes, anything that might cause a passerby to take notice and call the police. Shauna had thought that after helping with Simon, she’d built up enough emotional stamina to handle Nicole.
She’d been wrong.
Although Nicole had died in the same manner as Simon and had also remained in were-state, there was something in her eyes that looked all too human. Shock—terror—innocence lost forever. That look had literally dropped Shauna to her knees. She’d openly wept while Danyon examined the young were. It was incomprehensible how anyone could kill something so fragile. To make matters worse, Nicole’s body had been hidden away in an alley behind wooden crates, since there was no brush anywhere near the pilings. Seeing her slumped in a heap in that alley, like so much garbage, made the emotional stress ten times worse.
The only thing that had comforted Shauna that night was seeing how gently and respectfully Danyon had cared for both weres. His large, powerful hands had moved so gently over their bodies. Nicole had been small enough for him to lift on his own, so Danyon had carried her to the back of the SUV, cradling her in his arms like a child.
Danyon had Andy remain in the truck while they’d tended to Nicole, refusing to let Andy even see her. That had been a wise decision. As angry as Andy had gotten when he saw Simon, had he seen Nicole, Shauna feared he would have been beyond even Danyon’s control. She was confident that August would know how to handle Andy once he arrived at the lake house and had to unload the bodies.
Now, the only evidence that remained to prove Nicole had even been in the alley or between the pilings were bloodstains. If the rain didn’t wash them away, time would.
Another zipper of lightning raced across the sky.
“There’s nothing more we can do here,” Danyon said. “We should go before the storm really lets loose.”
Shauna hadn’t thought about how she’d get home once this was over. A cab made the most sense, but they were scarce in this area, even at midday, and non-existent in the wee hours of morning, which it now was. Barataria was a good distance from the Quarter, but walking there was not an option. Just the thought of trudging across a street right now made Shauna want to collapse. She could barely put one foot in front of the other as it was.
“My place isn’t that far from here,” Danyon said. “Much closer than yours. You’re welcome to hang out there until the storm passes. Maybe grab a shower, have something to eat while you wait.”
Although she’d give anything for a hot shower and a cheeseburger right now, Shauna didn’t think it would be a good idea for her to go to Danyon’s. Being alone with him sounded too tempting. She wanted to say no. The rain, her exhaustion, the distance between here and her home, the convenient closeness of his place—all of it felt like one big cliché. Like the guy whose car just happens to run out of gas on a deserted road on the first date.
Still, when he’d invited her, she’d felt something tug at her core, urging her to go. She needed to say no, had to resist—wanted to maintain control—but found herself nodding yes, instead. Albeit reluctantly.
Food and a shower, nothing wrong with that, right? She could do both, then head home as soon as the storm let up. Easy-peasy, chillin’ cheesy.
Shauna repeated the name of those two food groups as she followed him home.
They walked for what felt like hours. Long enough for her mind to go numb and her body even more numb. Every once in a while, as they walked, Shauna found herself leaning against Danyon without meaning to. The moment their bodies touched, however, she’d quickly straighten, determined to keep a respectable distance between them.
It didn’t take long for the sky to release its payload, drenching them in wet, warm sheets. Still, they walked, casually, purposely taking their time, as though the night were dry and cool.
Before Shauna knew it, they were at the corner of Burgundy and Ursulines and standing under an awning at the back entrance to La Maison Pierre. She was familiar with the old, five-storey hotel, having gone past it a few times on her morning runs.
Danyon tapped a code into the lock-pad near the door.
“You live in this hotel?” she asked.
“I own it.” He pushed the door open.
Shauna arched a brow. La Maison Pierre—The Stone House. Interesting…
They took a private elevator up to the fifth floor. There, Danyon led her down a short hallway to a massive, ornate wooden door, where he tapped yet another code into another lock-pad.
He opened the door and motioned Shauna inside. “Make yourself at home.”
Everything about the spacious, multi-room penthouse spoke of luxury. Twelve-foot ceilings with double crown molding, plush designer rugs over wide-planked wood floors, antiques from the Louis XIV era, a huge fireplace with a fluted mantel, and paintings that looked like works by Rembrandt and Van Gogh.
“You live here alone?” Shauna asked.
“Yes. Well, unless you count Raul. He checks in a few times a day to make sure I haven’t turned the place into a total pigsty.”
“Raul?”
“He’s head of housekeeping here at the hotel.”
Danyon led her down another hallway to a large bathroom with gray and white marble floors. It had a granite double-sink vanity and shower stall, and a whirlpool tub that was big enough for six. Plush, white towels hung from a wide, wooden towel rack.
“Feel free to freshen up, shower, whatever you need. There are a couple of clean bathrobes in the linen closet behind the door.”
“Bathrobes, huh? You must do quite a bit of entertaining.”
“You’d be surprised how little.” He smiled. “If you decide to shower, you can toss your clothes out in the hall, and I’ll make sure they’re cleaned before you leave. When you’re done, just head back the way we came, only turn right at the archway instead of left. That’ll lead you to the kitchen. I’ll whip up something for us to eat after I grab a quick shower.”
At the mention of food, Shauna’s stomach grumbled to life. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. “Sounds good,” she said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. She must have looked like a troll.
With a smile and a nod, Danyon backed out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Shauna locked the door, then leaned against it for a few seconds and closed her eyes. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Despite the deluge they had walked through moments ago, it sounded like the storm was only getting started.
Gathering up what little energy she had, Shauna opened her eyes, pushed away from the door and went to the vanity. She gasped when she saw her reflection in the mirror. She was beyond filthy. Her T-shirt, once blue, now looked like a bad Pollock imitation—wet, dirt smudged, and dotted with blood spatter. Her jeans were worse than her shirt. Her face, neck and arms were dirt and mud-smeared, and it looked like she’d been digging ditches with her fingernails. Seeing the filth made Nicole and Simon’s faces zoom up close in her mind’s eye.
She couldn’t get into the shower fast enough.
Once under the hot spray, Shauna tried not to think of anything, just feel the warmth of the water flowing over her, listen to the hiss of the spray. She had no idea how long she stayed in the shower, but by the time she got out, her fingers and toes were pruned.
After drying off and combing her hair out with her fingers, she wrapped herself in one of the thick, terry cloth robes she found in the linen closet, then headed out of the bathroom in search of the kitchen.
Shauna felt a little weird trekking around Danyon’s penthouse barefoot and naked beneath the robe. But better that, she figured, than stinking up the place with the dirt and grime that had covered her earlier.
She found the kitchen a few minutes later and saw Danyon standing over a stainless steel stove, stirring a pot of marinara sauce. He wore jeans, a white unbuttoned button-down and was barefoot, as well.
“Pasta and sauce okay?” he asked. When he turned toward her, his smile faltered. His eyes traveled quickly over her body, settled on her face—consumed her soul.
With her heart thundering in her chest, Shauna cleared her throat. “Uh, sounds good. Anything I can do to help?”
“You can grab a couple of plates for us if you don’t mind.” He aimed his chin at an upper cabinet to his left. “They’re up there.”
Shauna went over to the cabinet, opened it, and saw that the plates were on the uppermost shelf. She reached up and found herself inches short of the goal, which made her laugh. At five foot eight, people usually asked her to retrieve things from high shelves.
“Ah, sorry. I keep forgetting that the rest of the population isn’t six-five.” Grinning, Danyon turned the burners off on the stove and walked over to her. “Let me help you with that.”
Standing behind her now, Danyon reached up and over her head and plucked two plates off the shelf. Then he froze, plates still in midair.
Shauna felt like those plates, locked and hovering in space. She couldn’t have moved even if she’d wanted to. Although Danyon hadn’t pressed against her, hadn’t even touched her, she still felt heat from his body radiating through the bathrobe and onto her back. It soaked into her skin, vibrated, stole her breath. Whatever resonated between them was so strong, it blocked off the rest of the world. Shauna heard nothing but his breathing. She saw nothing—felt everything. Her body suddenly ached with a need that transcended the physical, a need that encompassed her entire being. She feared even twitching lest he misread it and back away.
Danyon slowly lowered the plates and placed them on the counter just below the cabinet. As he did, Shauna felt his breath on her right cheek, and her body reacted immediately, nipples hardening, arms trembling.
“Shauna…” His voice was huskier now, deeper.