Page 82 of Diners, Damsels & Wolves

She’d gone to the hospital to visit Rachel after work. They’d taken the tubes from her throat and she was semi-awake, but she had no idea who Clarissa was. She’d stayed there for two hours, and nothing changed.

Resting her head against the cool glass, she squeezed her eyes shut. She was exhausted. Drained to the point of dropping physically, mentally, and emotionally.

She wanted to cry, to eat a bucket of ice cream, and to sleep for three days straight. Most of all, she wanted Tom.

The music from The Barrel vibrated up to the second floor. It shook her and made her head hurt. She’d debated going to bed early, but the music would be just as loud in the guest room.

Getting up, she grabbed her hoodie and purse. She needed to get out of here, if only for a little bit. Starting up her car, she drove to nowhere in particular.

What was she going to do?

Rachel.

Her home.

Thomas.

Did she believe Maria? Was there more to the fires than she knew? Had she truly misunderstood what Tom was?

Admittedly, she knew almost nothing about organized crime. She’d always assumed mob bosses would be violent and volatile; bullies with pinkie rings and greasy mustaches in pinstripe suits. Was that Tom?

In her heart, she knew it wasn’t. He was kind, patient, and adoring. Everything she never knew she needed. She felt complete when she was with him.

Then she’d let her walls down, only to get clobbered by the pain of reality. This wasn’t a fairytale; the good Samaritan who’d saved her wasn’t a knight in shining armor there to sweep her off her feet. Real life was messy and complicated. The more vulnerable you let yourself be, the worse it hurt. Was she willing to take that risk with him again?

Part of her wanted to. Part of her wanted to lock the door and toss away the key. But the biggest question still remained; if Maria was telling the truth, then what was he? And what did this have to do with the fires?

Clarissa couldn’t make any decisions about anything until she knew. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t, open her heart and soul to him again without knowing. She was done being beaten down by life, disappointment, and abandonment. She had to know the unfiltered truth, no matter how much it hurt.

The back roads gave way to a familiar driveway. In the distance, she could see a massive three-story brick house on a sprawling lawn, illuminated in full silver moonlight. There was a litany of cars parked in the lot and lining the long drive. She wondered if the out-of-towners from the picnic were staying here. The house was certainly large enough.

Making her way between the parked vehicles, voices echoed. She followed them. Getting closer, she saw Tom and a group of others standing on the side lawn illuminated in yellow light from an open garage door. Creeping between the cars, she got closer.

“We won’t be able to track much of anything in this weather, boss.” It was Emmanuel, who’d escorted Maria to the diner.

“We would only be able to find them if we crossed paths directly.” It was Atticus, another boss from the picnic. “We would be able to stop another attack if we were close enough, but we will not be able to find the bears’ den in the rain.”

“They could be using the rain to their advantage,” Tom said. “They could do a lot of harm with our guards down for one night. I don’t want to take that risk. The people of this town deserve better from the Sinclaire pack, that was the mistake my grandfather made when he was Alpha. I won’t be following in his footsteps.”

“Then it’s agreed,” Sara the cop said. “Tonight, we patrol our territory. When the rain stops, we begin the hunt again.”

“We run in groups no less than four,” Tom said. “If you run into trouble or catch a fresh trail, you howl. The others will find you.”

“Agreed,” Atticus said.

Clarissa’s mind spun. Nothing they were saying made any sense. Why were they looking for a bear den?

Her eyes bugged. Were they stripping? What the hell was going on, were they going bear hunting naked? Was this some kinky game?

When everyone was bare, they moved away from the open garage, further onto the lawns. Creeping out from the cars, the wind tickled her face, tossing her hair back.

They’d stopped walking, standing apart from one another. Squinting, she tried to see. There in the distance, was that a bobcat? No, it couldn’t be; it was far too large, and it was standing on two legs. Wasn’t that where one of Atticus’s men had just been standing? But then, there, where Sara had just been, a sandy-colored … What was that?

Her eyes found Tom, and the blood drained from her face. Limbs going numb and heavy, she couldn’t move. Her mind blanked as she watched; she couldn’t process what she was seeing.

His legs grew longer, his body broader. A thick covering of maroon fur grew along his spine, moving outward to cover his body, thick around his shoulders and neck. Only it wasn’t his body anymore. He was almost ten feet tall, standing on haunches instead of legs, a thick tail swishing between them. His hands were clawed and gigantic. His face turned into a short snout with large canines, his ears pointed.

The wind billowed around her, changing directions. Her hair whipped into her face as it gushed against her back. The creatures before her all went rigid, sniffing the air.