me.
I blinked. “Do I get medical and dental?”
“With your natural ability to heal and resistance to disease, you won’t need them. We’re all disgustingly healthy.”
Jack put a plate of something unidentifiable in front of me, and David poured a glass that probably contained more wolfsbane. He gave me a look I took as silent warning not to screw around with my changing body’s needs. Like I needed to be told. I picked up the glass and waved it at him in a mock salute before I drank. I was starting to get used to the stuff. It wasn’t so bad once I got past the horrible taste and the acid way it burned my throat.
“You won’t be expected to start immediately,” Jack went on. “After your first change, you’ll need about three days to adjust.” He waited until I’d put my glass down before he named my salary, adding, “Room, board, and company car included.”
Good thing he waited. I might’ve dropped my drink again, and he’d already cleaned up after me once.
“I have a car,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say. I’d just been offered twice my best hope for starting salary, with the added bonus of flexibility for my special needs. Plus housing. Of course, the catch was that I shared the job and house with eleven men who could tear my throat out, but everything had its downside.
“Yes, but we would all feel better if you drove a Volvo,” Jack returned deadpan.
The safest car on the market. Message received , I thought. I started eating my glop. It was as tasteless as it looked. “Do I want to know what I’m eating?”
“No,” David and Jack answered together.
Great. I tried not to think about the possibilities as I swallowed. I was tired of feeling like crap and still frightened by my blackout, so I did what the experienced wolves thought was good for me. The stuff was easy to get down, at least.
Jack and David had a quiet conversation about some deliverable schedule while I ate, and it was nice to hear something so normal. So human.
Something none of us would be tomorrow night. We’d be driven by animal needs, animal instincts, and revealed for what we were in animal form.
I put my fork down and stared at my plate. “Will it hurt?” My quiet question came during a lull in the business talk. David was the one who answered, and he didn’t have to ask what I meant.
“Some. It’s uncomfortable when your body shifts from one form to another. Like growing pains.”
I nodded, then pushed my chair back. “Do I have a room?” I wanted quiet, space, and maybe a pillow to vent my emotions on.
“You do.” The two of them shepherded me up two flights of stairs to the top floor and around a hall to my doorway. I turned the knob and walked in, wondering what my chamber in Wolf Manor would hold.
The door opened into a big sitting room, with a bedroom off to one side and a smaller room that held a desk on the other. My first impression was one of space and light. I was right about the size. My postage stamp apartment would be lost in here.
Hardwood floors throughout gleamed as if newly polished and gauzy drapes softened the windows. The sitting room had a brown leather couch and matching high-backed chair, convenient end tables, and a colorful Persian rug I knew my toes would sink deep into.
It was a comfortable room, not girly or frilly, just beautiful and elegant. A vase with a subtle arrangement of greenery and blossoms on one table lent a light fragrance to the air. I wondered who had put fresh flowers in here when I’d just arrived and if they’d come from the solarium.
I wandered into the bedroom and discovered it had a cedar walk-in closet with skylight, a tiled bathroom with a jetted tub to soak in, and French doors that opened onto a small balcony that looked out over the garden and hedge maze below. Two chairs with a bistro table nestled between them, and a potted tree made the balcony a temptation even in cold weather.
The bedroom also held a wrought-iron
I blinked. “Do I get medical and dental?”
“With your natural ability to heal and resistance to disease, you won’t need them. We’re all disgustingly healthy.”
Jack put a plate of something unidentifiable in front of me, and David poured a glass that probably contained more wolfsbane. He gave me a look I took as silent warning not to screw around with my changing body’s needs. Like I needed to be told. I picked up the glass and waved it at him in a mock salute before I drank. I was starting to get used to the stuff. It wasn’t so bad once I got past the horrible taste and the acid way it burned my throat.
“You won’t be expected to start immediately,” Jack went on. “After your first change, you’ll need about three days to adjust.” He waited until I’d put my glass down before he named my salary, adding, “Room, board, and company car included.”
Good thing he waited. I might’ve dropped my drink again, and he’d already cleaned up after me once.
“I have a car,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say. I’d just been offered twice my best hope for starting salary, with the added bonus of flexibility for my special needs. Plus housing. Of course, the catch was that I shared the job and house with eleven men who could tear my throat out, but everything had its downside.
“Yes, but we would all feel better if you drove a Volvo,” Jack returned deadpan.
The safest car on the market. Message received , I thought. I started eating my glop. It was as tasteless as it looked. “Do I want to know what I’m eating?”
“No,” David and Jack answered together.
Great. I tried not to think about the possibilities as I swallowed. I was tired of feeling like crap and still frightened by my blackout, so I did what the experienced wolves thought was good for me. The stuff was easy to get down, at least.
Jack and David had a quiet conversation about some deliverable schedule while I ate, and it was nice to hear something so normal. So human.
Something none of us would be tomorrow night. We’d be driven by animal needs, animal instincts, and revealed for what we were in animal form.
I put my fork down and stared at my plate. “Will it hurt?” My quiet question came during a lull in the business talk. David was the one who answered, and he didn’t have to ask what I meant.
“Some. It’s uncomfortable when your body shifts from one form to another. Like growing pains.”
I nodded, then pushed my chair back. “Do I have a room?” I wanted quiet, space, and maybe a pillow to vent my emotions on.
“You do.” The two of them shepherded me up two flights of stairs to the top floor and around a hall to my doorway. I turned the knob and walked in, wondering what my chamber in Wolf Manor would hold.
The door opened into a big sitting room, with a bedroom off to one side and a smaller room that held a desk on the other. My first impression was one of space and light. I was right about the size. My postage stamp apartment would be lost in here.
Hardwood floors throughout gleamed as if newly polished and gauzy drapes softened the windows. The sitting room had a brown leather couch and matching high-backed chair, convenient end tables, and a colorful Persian rug I knew my toes would sink deep into.
It was a comfortable room, not girly or frilly, just beautiful and elegant. A vase with a subtle arrangement of greenery and blossoms on one table lent a light fragrance to the air. I wondered who had put fresh flowers in here when I’d just arrived and if they’d come from the solarium.
I wandered into the bedroom and discovered it had a cedar walk-in closet with skylight, a tiled bathroom with a jetted tub to soak in, and French doors that opened onto a small balcony that looked out over the garden and hedge maze below. Two chairs with a bistro table nestled between them, and a potted tree made the balcony a temptation even in cold weather.
The bedroom also held a wrought-iron
Similar Books
