On the Prowl by Kate Rudolph

5

The strange scentof the purple-haired crew member teased Andre’s nose until he caught sight of Em. She wasn't just as he remembered her. A month ago, she had been stretched to the breaking point by the knowledge that werewolves existed and worried that her sister might die.

Today she was still tired. He could see the beginning of bags forming under her bright blue eyes, but that was mostly due to her incredibly pale skin. Her long blonde hair fell in waves past her shoulders, and she wore a dark tank top and tight black pants. Was that business casual for a rock star? Just looking at her made Andre's body come alive, but he had to push that thought away.

"Who is Melinda?" he repeated. There were a dozen or more scents swirling around the dressing room, and he assumed one must belong to the Melinda person. He'd passed by far more people than he'd expected to to get to Em's room. It took a lot to keep a music tour running.

Em was looking at him like he'd grown two heads. She looked over his shoulder at the door and blinked hard, as if she could magically make him disappear if she thought about it hard enough.

Andre wasn't going anywhere.

"I called Stasia. What are you doing here?" she demanded, arms crossing under her breasts and pushing up enough cleavage that he had to force himself to look away.

What the fuck was going on?

Those kind of thoughts were the opposite of professional, and Andre prided himself on his professionalism. He wasn't going to think with his dick. He was here to make Em feel better and get to the bottom of whatever was plaguing her. He had planned for this to be a simple trip.

Show up, figure out if there really was a threat. Probably figure out that there was no threat at all. And then go on his way. Easy peasy.

But Em's so-called security hadn't flagged him as he walked into the building. No one had stopped him, and he had made no particular effort to sneak in. He didn't like that just about anyone could get inside and find her. Even if there was no supernatural threat, he was going to take care of that.

"You know Stasia couldn't come. She’s still dealing with… you know." They seemed to be alone enough in her dressing room, but that crew member had just come out, and he wasn't going to risk talking about supernatural business where anyone not in the know might hear.

"I thought she was doing fine." Em's face scrunched up and Andre refused to find it cute.

She was a beautiful woman and she knew it. She was a rock star. Beauty went with the territory. And he couldn't let himself get distracted. When he spoke, it was more gruff than necessary, but he couldn't afford to get too friendly. "There's no need to risk her losing control. But she's okay." He didn't know why he had the need to comfort Em, to assure her that everything really was okay. But his wolf nudged at the edge of his consciousness and wanted him to make her feel better.

Andre wanted his wolf to shut the hell up. It went haywire whenever he was around Em, and he was beginning to see how much of a mistake it might have been to come here.

"I freaked out," said Em. She was a mix of business and apology, apparently accepting that Stasia wasn't coming. "I think it was just a prank. Everything's fine. You can go back home and tell them you checked in and we’ll just pretend this never happened. Okay?" She offered him a winning smile.

That kind of smile might have worked at award shows and on magazine covers, but it didn't work on him. And even though he had been thinking right along those lines, he wasn't going to give in to the temptation of doing a shoddy job. "You called for a reason. At least let me check it out." He didn't want Gibson, or worse, Stasia, to ream him out for shirking his duty.

Em's shoulders slumped, and Andre had to curl his hands into fists to keep from reaching out and offering her comfort.

Had his body been possessed by some sort of hormonal monster? What was going on?

This was a job and he had to do it. He didn't need to comfort Em. And attraction? Out of the question.

Em bent down and scooped up a pile of black fabric before unceremoniously throwing it at him. "This is what freaked me out. This and the table." She ran her hand briefly over its surface. “It's stupid. Just take a look, agree with me, and leave." She gave the order like a woman used to being obeyed.

But Andre was out of the military, and he didn't have to follow orders anymore. Especially not from spoiled rock stars. If she hadn't made it a command, he might have just given the garment a quick look and dismissed it. But an evil part that lived deep inside of him wanted to annoy her. So Andre took his time, laying the outfit out on the floor and examining every inch of it.

First with his eyes, then with his fingers, and then, embarrassingly, with his nose. It still felt strange after all these years to use his wolf senses in his human form. They weren’t super heightened. He couldn't differentiate between every human scent he came across when he wore his human skin. But he could sense more than he remembered sensing when he had just been a normal man.

"This doesn't smell like anything." He spoke more to himself than to Em, trying to figure out why the garment in his hands confused him so much.

"What?" Em's voice was laced with confusion.

Andre picked up the outfit and buried his face in it. He caught a hint of Em's scent and something almost familiar. Another hint of that crew member who had passed him in the hall. But it was barely a trace. Other than that, there was nothing.

And that made no sense. These clothes would have been handled by a handful of people, and there should have been a trace of detergent or the water it was washed in or dry cleaning chemicals. But there was nothing.

If Andre closed his eyes and ignored Em and the crew member's scent, it was like there was nothing in front of him.

But he could feel the fabric in his hands.

Weird.

Weird and not a prank.

"It doesn't smell like anything," he repeated, surer this time, even if it made no sense.

"We do clean things around here," Em pointed out. She sank down onto the couch she had been laying on and glared at him. "Someone probably just Febreezed it or something. They tried to cover their tracks. It's nothing." But she didn't sound as confident as she would have if she really believed that.

"Febreeze has a scent," Andre had to point out. "And I don't mean that this thing doesn't smell like detergent or Febreeze, I mean it doesn't smell at all. It's like it doesn't exist. Do you understand?" He needed her to get this. He wasn't speaking like he was a man. He was speaking like a werewolf.

For a second he thought she would trust him. Then she shook her head. "I'm sure it's fine. So it smells a little weird. Things smell weird. Does it smell like a werewolf?"

"I can't say that werewolves have a particular smell." He only knew his own pack, and they just smelled like themselves.

That seemed to mollify her for some reason. "Okay. You did your job. You confirmed that it's not a shifter. So you can go report back that everything is safe and we can pretend that we don't know each other and we never have to see each other again. Good?" She offered him her fakest smile and pointed towards the door.

Andre let the clothing drop to the ground and stalked towards Em, towering over her and getting right into her space. It should have been frightening. He knew what fear smelled like, and he expected the scent to start emanating out of her. But that's not what happened. Something heady and hot tickled his nose.

Not fear at all.

And his body responded. He wanted to lean in and feel her soft skin against his. It wouldn't take much. What would she taste like?

He needed to know. His wolf demanded it.

And he refused to give in. This wasn't rational.

Andre tore himself away and backed up several steps. "I got here without being questioned by your security. If someone did this, they could get to you."

Em shuddered. A door slammed down the hall, and she sprang up off the couch. "We shouldn't be talking about this here. Follow me."

He did. She led him down a maze of halls and over a little bridge that connected the convention center to the hotel. They got in an elevator that required a room key to use it and went up to the top floor.

"I don't want us arguing where anyone can hear it. God knows what will happen if the W word gets out there." She shook her head and offered him a wry smile.

He wanted to smile back. And he didn't want to argue. Em needed a bit more muscle, and he was willing to give it. He just had to make her see that. "Just let me stick around for a couple of days. I'll make sure nothing weird is going on. You know Stasia would want that." Andre wanted to think that it was a point of professional pride that was pushing him to stay with Em, but he feared it was his wolf's lurking desires that had him trying so hard.

He didn't even like the woman. She set his hair on end.

And yet he couldn't stay away.

She groaned as he played the sister card. But it was true. Stasia would use all of her brand-new werewolf mojo to punish him if he let her sister get hurt.

Em's eyes were pleading, as if that would make him relent. "Everything's fine. And I don't really want the tabloids noticing some new hot guy hanging around me with no purpose."

"Hot guy?" He thought she was hot? Good to know. His wolf preened at the thought, and he started to imagine just what else they could do together in the name of safety.

Em opened her hotel room door and let him inside, pointedly ignoring his remark. Once the door closed behind him, she turned and crossed her arms. "Okay. Say your piece."

But Andre didn't say anything at first. Her room had that same lack of scent that he hadn't smelled on the garment. He walked further in and looked at the king-size bed that dominated the center of the room. The sheets were all torn up, as if someone had taken claws to them. And just like with the outfit in her dressing room, there was no smell at all.

He was grim as he spoke. "I think I rest my case. You need me."