been a sleepy rumble. “We were due to fly back to New York at noon. Now you want us to change our plans. Instead of working on the new album, we’re going to move into Sarange’s house and take an extended vacation while we do bodyguard duty.”
“There are plenty of recording studios in Los Angeles,” Khan had said. “We don’t have to stop working.”
Just as Khan had known he would, Ged had agreed. Because that was how it worked. No questions, no explanations, no protests. His friends—because that was the closest word he could find to describe what they were—would have his back. And when the time came, Khan would do the same for them. When Ged brought Beast together, they had been a collection of lost and damaged souls. Each of them had a horrific story to tell. Joining the band had been their rehabilitation. Maybe it was their redemption.
As Khan walked through the grounds in the early morning light, the foul werewolf stench of the intruders lingered. It was strange how that worked. Khan hated the smell of werewolves. Even in their human form, he could barely stand to be in the same room with them. He had built up a sort of immunity to the scent of his bandmate Finglas. He could tolerate his aroma, without liking it. Almost as if the guy wore an obnoxious cologne. So why was it that Sarange smelled like the sweetest thing in the world? She was a werewolf. Khan should detest her scent. Instead, he couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to nuzzle her, sniff her skin, lick her all over...
He looked up at the balcony that led to her room, picturing her asleep in that big, ridiculously opulent bed. He couldn’t help the leap of joy his heart gave every time he thought of her. Dogs and cats. Had there ever been a time in the past? Could the first time be now?
Those werewolves had come after Sarange for a reason. Why now? What was going on in her life right now that meant four werewolves wanted to abduct her? Diablo would sneer at Khan’s first thought.
“The world does not revolve around you, Tiger Boy.” It was Diablo’s favorite phrase.
Diablo was wrong, of course. And Khan delighted in telling him so. “Try telling the world that.”
Right now, when he was examining what was happening to Sarange, Khan’s entry into her life was one thing that could have triggered the werewolf attack. Why? He had no idea. He was simply considering the possibilities.
The only other things he could think of were the Animals Alive campaign and Sarange’s determination to save the blue wolves. Again, when it came to trying to establish a link between either of those things and the intruders, Khan came up with a big, fat nothing.
He was tired of thinking. It was still early. The world wasn’t fully awake. There was only one place he wanted to be. Up close to Sarange. Pressed so tight against her even a sliver of light couldn’t get between them. That sounded like a plan. Breaking into a loping run, he retraced his steps back to the house.
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