Bewitching the Beast Read online

  A knock on the apartment door penetrated the hiss of the shower. Her hands stilled. “Go away,” she murmured as the soothing water rained down on her head.

  The knocking continued.

  “Go away!”

  The rap on the door escalated to pounding.

  “Can’t you understand I’m having a moment here?” Muttering a curse, she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. She ground her teeth as she threw on a white terrycloth robe and stomped toward the door, still dripping.

  The chain securely in place, she released the dead bolt, then opened the door a crack. Wavy dark hair and a black leather glove . . . Her heart hammered against her sternum. What was he doing here? Damn, she needed to use the peephole more.

  She made a move to close the door, but he blocked the opening with his scuffed boot.

  “Tess, wait.”

  Despite the warning signs flashing in her head, his full baritone voice did things to her she didn’t want to think about. “How did you find me?”

  His deep-blue eyes caught and held hers before he shrugged. “I followed your tracks in the snow and knocked on a few doors.”

  “Why?”

  “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  Kind of sweet in a stalker sort of way. “Well, I’m fine. You can leave.”

  His gloved hand touched the door. “I can tell you’re upset. I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” she spat out in self-disgust. “I encouraged you every step of the way.”

  He frowned. “It wasn’t like that.”

  The compassion in his eyes really . . . pissed her off. Everyone seemed to think she was a pity-case. Poor Tess. The hell with that.

  “Can I come in?”

  “No.” Tess gripped the edges of her robe tight. “I think you should go.”

  “I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.”

  Her insides twisted. Holy hell. “Tell me you’re sterile and don’t have an STD. Lie if you have to.”

  He swept back his hair, the gesture casual, sexy, even in a two-inch vertical view. “I don’t know about the children part, but I don’t have a disease.”

  “Are you lying?”

  His gaze latched onto hers. “No.”

  “Then you wouldn’t mind proving it with a test?”

  “I took the test with my last girlfriend.”

  She pinned him with a dark look, her lips pursed together.

  He lifted his hands in surrender. “And I’ll take another one if it makes you feel better.”

  “Actually—”

  “Now, can I come in?”

  What was she doing? Get a hold of yourself, Tess. “Look, Ethan is it?”

  “Yes.”

  “God, I don’t even know your last name,” she muttered.

  “It’s Lockwood.”

  “I’m sorry I ran out on you, but the thing is, I’ve never casually hooked up with someone like that before, and I’m having a hard time processing all this.” She held up a hand. “I need to be alone.” Hugging herself, she tried to stop her trembling. “I can’t talk to you right now.”

  “Tess, please let me in.”

  Impatience and annoyance warred within her. Why wouldn’t this guy just go away? “I’m sorry, but I used you tonight. The name I called out belonged to a guy I can’t get over. You’re better off not wasting your time on me.” Kind of mean, but the truth. Tess stared down at his foot propping open the door. “Do you mind? It’s time for you to leave.”

  “Wait.”

  Enough! “No, you listen to me.” She dropped her arms to her sides, her shaking be damned. “I’m kind of freaking out right now. You need to move your foot, or I will chew it right off your leg.”

  Ethan watched her with a stymied expression as if debating how hard to push her. Wisely, he pulled back his foot. Tess closed the door and slid the lock home.

  On quivering legs, she picked up her keys and the stone from the carpet, setting them next to a statue of the Venus of Willendorf on a small table next to the door. Gram had willed the goofy-looking statue to her. Although she had to admit it had grown on her. She lifted the stone figure and studied its melon breasts and big, jolly belly. “Oh, Gram,” she groaned. “What would you do? Not that you’d ever be in this situation. You were never such a loser.” She closed her eyes and inhaled a slow breath. “You’d say light a candle, drink some tea, and meditate.”

  Releasing a long breath, she set the statue down and walked the three steps to her tiny kitchen. She took a saucepan from the cabinet and filled it with water. Setting it on the stove, she turned on the burner. It would be much easier to heat a mug of water in the microwave, if it wasn’t broken, again. She stared at her reflection in the microwave door above the stove. Matt could have fixed it. He’d been handy that way. She’d stood in this kitchen with Matt so many times, it still felt odd to know he’d never be here with her again.

  Enough thinking about the past. Honey for the tea. She opened a cabinet door. The bear-shaped bottle rested on a shelf high over her head. “Crap.” Her stepping stool was in the bedroom. “Screw it.” She made a jump for the bottle. Her fingers brushed its surface before her feet landed on the small throw rug, which slid beneath her on the linoleum floor. A squeal erupted from her throat as she tried to recover her footing and knocked the handle of the saucepan. Warm water splashed down the front of her robe, seeping to her skin.

  Tess screamed as she fell back. Her head hit the countertop behind her and points of light swam in her vision. She collapsed in a heap as something heavy crashed against the door.

  ~ ~ ~

  Ethan rubbed his shoulder. Damn. Strong door. His mind raced as Tess’s scream echoed inside his head. He had to get to her. Now.

  Studying the door, he searched for its weakest point and kicked hard near the lock. The wood splintered but held. He swore under his breath. Rippling waves of energy radiated down his legs. What the hell?

  A streak of unease raced through his chest. He pushed it aside and kicked again. This time the door crashed open and banged against the inside wall. Ethan charged in and found Tess kneeling on the floor in a puddle of water. Moaning low, she rocked back and forth, cradling her head in her hands.

  He crouched beside her. “Are you all right?”

  “Uh, no.” Tess dropped her hands and squinted up at him, her face a mask of pain. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “Let me see.” Hovering over her, he reached out to sweep her hair aside for a better look.

  She smacked him away with a flapping of her hands. “Don’t touch me.” Tess rose on wobbly legs.

  When he made a move to steady her, she gave him the evil eye.

  “Back off,” she snapped, then whimpered and held her head. Tess leaned into Ethan and sagged down his chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he caught her before she sank to the floor. He scooped her up and carried her to the sofa. This was all his fault. If he’d pushed his way in earlier, maybe he could have prevented this.

  “Tess.” He knelt down beside her and checked her eyes. “Tess, wake up.” Both pupils reacted to the lamplight. Good. He thought back to the first aid course he’d taken last summer—his naïve attempt to find a way to help those he cursed.

  Lifting her arm, he found her pulse, strong and steady. She didn’t seem to have any trouble breathing. No bleeding from her nose, mouth, or ears. He searched her skull and found a decent-sized bump, but no broken skin. Any burns from the saucepan? Her skin didn’t look red. Her robe was damp. He peeled away the edges, and his gaze stuck there for a moment, drinking in the sight of creamy skin in the valley between her breasts. Gorgeous . . . and definitely not burned. He jerked himself out of his stupor and tugged the edges of her robe together.

  All right. Now, an
ambulance.

  He patted his pockets. What had he done with his cell phone? His head dropped forward. He’d left it charging at home. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  He scanned the room for her cell phone. The base for a cordless phone sat on a table by the door, empty. Racing to the kitchen, he searched the counters. No phone. He turned off the burner and strode to the living room. Nothing. Bedroom?

  The moment he stepped into her bedroom, he recognized it from her memory. Matt had died here. Ethan pushed the thought away. Where was a phone? His heart raced.

  It’s okay. It’s cool. Her neighbor would have one.

  He sprinted from the bedroom, tore out of the apartment and into the hall. He stopped at the first door he came to and hammered his fist against the wood. “Come on. Get out here.”

  Ethan banged on the door again. “Hey! Help!” When he heard no movement inside, he rushed to the next apartment. His knuckles rapped so hard against the door, they stung. “Anyone! We need help!” A wave of heat washed over him. This was going nowhere. He threw a punch at the door and hustled to Tess’s apartment. “We’ll get a taxi.”

  He broke into a sweat, his adrenaline kicking into high gear. Skidding to a halt when he reached the sofa, he took in her wet hair and bare feet and headed back toward the door. Jacket and shoes. Hat, jacket, and shoes.

  A long wool coat lay on the carpet. Ethan snatched it up and raced to a nearby closet. He grabbed the first hat his hand touched on the tall shelf, plucked a pair of brown leather boots from the floor, and charged to the sofa.

  He shoved the boots on her feet, then with great care, slipped the ski hat over her head, its ear flaps dangling along the sides of her face. Tilting her forward, he slid the coat beneath her and struggled to push her arms into the sleeves with the oversized robe jamming up the holes.

  “Son of a . . .” With a grunt, he laid her arms at her sides, buttoned the damn thing, and picked her up as carefully as he could.

  When he reached the hallway, he hooked his foot around the bottom of the door and jerked it forward. The broken lock caught on the frame. Shit. He reached for the doorknob, jostling Tess’s limp body in his arms. Grasping the handle, he yanked hard. The door groaned in protest as it shut. Not locked, but it would have to do. He sped through the hall and down the stairs to the sidewalk out front.

  Sirens echoed off the buildings, drowning out the steady hum of music and cheering. Ethan zeroed in on a line of people who stood in the falling snow waiting for taxis outside the club Déjà vu. He booked it in their direction, nestling Tess close against his chest, away from the frigid breeze.

  He ignored curious stares and headed straight for the man directing people to the taxis along the curb. “Hail me a cab. I need to get to a hospital.”

  The man waved him over. Ethan rushed ahead as a barrel-chested giant lurched in front of him.

  “Hey, buddy, me and my girl have been waiting for over half an hour. Get in line.” The guy swayed a bit, his glassy eyes unfocused.

  Ethan bit back a curse. A taxi’s door gaped open, ready to take them to the hospital. “This is an emergency,” he murmured, stepping around the guy.

  The drunk grabbed Ethan by the shoulder and shoved. “Call an ambulance.”

  Tess slipped lower in Ethan’s grasp. He struggled to adjust his hold, almost dropping her. Ethan glared into the jerk’s face, and a low growl rumbled from deep in his chest, loud enough to raise the drunk’s brows.

  The guy stumbled back, confusion and fear etched in his features.

  Ethan tensed. Had he just growled, or had The Beast?

  No time for this. He brushed past the drunk and eased Tess into the cab, climbing in beside her.

  “Which hospital?” the old cabbie asked, steering out into traffic.

  “Whatever’s closest.” Ethan moved Tess to his lap, resting her head against his chest. His fingers grazed her cold skin as he stretched the bottom edges of her coat over her legs. Shoot. He should have wrapped her in a blanket. As the car zigzagged through the busy streets, he rubbed warmth into her shins. “You’re going to be all right, Tess.”

  She moaned, and her head lolled to the side.

  “Tess?”

  Her eyes fluttered open, but she winced and shut them again. “Yeah?”

  “How are you feeling?” His pulse calmed a few beats. At least she was coming around.

  “Head hurts.” She snuggled into him with a sigh.

  He tucked a wet curl inside her hat and brushed a finger along her cheek as the car slowed to a stop. Through the windshield, he could see Bellevue Hospital and the traffic jam surrounding it. Those close enough to the entrance opened car doors in the middle of the street to walk or hobble the rest of the way. Even ambulances inched forward in the midst of the traffic.

  Ethan’s stomach knotted, and he pulled Tess closer. He imagined the drawn, tired faces of nurses and doctors trying to keep up with the relentless flow of patients. “Let’s try another hospital.”

  The cab driver kept his eyes on the road. “Been to them all tonight, and none are better than this. Lots of accidents with the snow and parties.”

  A well-dressed reveler stumbled out of the cab in front of them, his arm bloody, and a sinking feeling settled deep inside Ethan’s chest. He couldn’t take Tess in there. Too much could go wrong. This place was an accident waiting to happen. And without Tess’s aura to protect her, she was vulnerable. Accidents. Illnesses. She wouldn’t be able to fend off hazards most people could avoid.

  She’d be safest at his apartment, where he could keep an eye on her, where there’d be less people, and less chaos. “Take us to 61st and 5th.”

  The cab driver turned to him with a suspicious look.

  Ethan shrugged, hoping to hell he appeared casual. “She had too much to drink and twisted her ankle. It can wait until tomorrow.”

  After a long stare at Ethan, the cabbie took the wheel and eased the taxi out of the line of cars.

  Ethan relaxed back in his seat. He’d wake Tess every couple of hours. If her condition worsened, he’d take the risk of bringing her to the hospital. Until then, he would do everything in his power to protect her.

  With The Beast well fed, he shouldn’t have to worry about danger on that front. Although what had been with the growl at the drunk? And his leg when he’d busted open her door. As if the monster inside him wanted to save Tess as much as he did. Why?

  Didn’t matter, not now. The Beast used its stolen energy to guard itself from harm. If he stuck close to Tess, she should benefit from that same protection.

  Now he just needed to convince Tess he wasn’t a kidnapping psycho-maniac. Yeah, this was going to get ugly.

  ~ ~ ~

  Tess awoke to that annoying dream again—the one where a tall, good-looking guy nudges her shoulder and asks for her name. All right, so it wasn’t such a bad dream.

  “Tess, wake up,” the masculine voice said again.

  This time she didn’t open her eyes, only winced at the pounding in her head. “Tess, my name is Tess,” she grumbled, burying her face in the ultra-soft pillow. Something cool shifted on her head, soothing the ache. She swallowed and wiped drool from the corner of her mouth. No wonder her mouth was dry. Stifling a yawn, she caught a familiar scent. Tess blinked and breathed in again. She smelled him on the pillow. A shiver rode down her spine.

  She took the ice pack from her head and rolled onto her back. Ugh. Her head felt like it just might fall off.

  Four votive candles surrounded the bed she lay in—two green and two black. Their flickering glow cast shadows about the room. Static and mumbled words from a scanner droned somewhere in the corner. And watching her every move from a chair at the end of the bed was Ethan.

  She jerked upright but groaned from the pain and eased back onto the
pillow. “Where am I?”

  Ethan stood and came closer. “My apartment.”

  Tess lifted a hand to ward him away, and he stopped.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked softly. He looked like hell, tired and strained.

  “Like there’s a train inside my head. What happened?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  “No. And I definitely don’t remember coming here.”

  A determined expression on his face, he turned away. “I’m not sure how you did it, but you hit your head, and I brought you here.”

  “What?” She set the ice pack on her head, letting the cold dull the pain. “Why didn’t you take me to the emergency room?”

  The scanner squealed, and he crossed the room to turn it off. “I took a first-aid course last summer.”

  “Great, you’re an expert.”

  “I watched you closely, woke you every two hours. Your pupils looked fine, you knew your name, no slurred speech. I would have taken you in if I needed to.”

  “How reassuring.” She rubbed her temples. “Turn on a light.”

  “That’s not going to feel very good.”

  “It’s too dark in here. Turn on a light.”

  Ethan flipped a switch, and she cringed as the bright lamplight bored into her skull.

  “Do you want me to turn it off?” he asked.

  “No.” Holding the ice pack to her head, she forced herself to sit up, and the world spun for a second. “You didn’t answer my question. Why didn’t you take me to the emergency room?”

  “The hospital was crazy last night. I thought you’d be better off here.”

  “Better off here? Why?”

  Crossing his arms, he leaned against the door jamb. “I didn’t think they’d let me stay with you.”