After her last appointment, she started home for the evening. It was a cool autumn evening and she had walked to work that morning. It wasn't too far, six blocks and through a quiet park that she enjoyed. Utilizing her Glamoury to tone down her aura and appearance, look more common, she could have passed for anyone else on the street.

She stopped at the nearby Starbucks for a Godiva hot cocoa and chocolate chip cookie, her favorite indulgence.

Her long coat was wrapped around her but it didn't hide weapons. She rarely needed them. Her pentagram would protect her from vampires, a little known fact. It had been blessed by a powerful vampire she was friends with, the Head of the City of Atlanta. It was a thank you for saving his life with her premonitions. It was made of sterling silver, handy to slap against a werewolf who popped up randomly. Silver bullets worked better but usually the burn was sufficient to make a get away.

Faerie folk regarded her with great respect, and were some of her biggest clients. Faeries that had lost their magic, lost their way, wanted a connection to the Motherland came to her. Some came for advice, some for healing.

Trolls stayed out of the city usually. They roamed the hills, mountains and forests but rarely wandered into the city. People still ran screaming at sight of a troll. Somehow they felt werewolves were the lesser of the evil supernatural creatures and socially acceptable.

Other creatures were out there; Dairine often sensed them or felt them in passing. There was an ongoing struggle between the groups, particularly Shifters and Faeries against Vampires. The Lycanthropes and Faeries were earth creatures, lovers of mother earth, and Vampires were generally viewed as an abomination of Nature.

Dairine had met plenty of both, and knew each side had its good guys and bad guys. She had learned never to get between a Vampire and Werewolf. There were the vampire Hunters, the legal and not-so-legal, more like bounty hunters. Werewolves had been almost accepted into society in the last twenty years, laws had passed to prevent discrimination but it was still out there. For some reason, Nashville had very few Vampires, and a whole lot of Weres.

Ghosts were everywhere, lost and forlorn creatures. Sometimes she could help, sometimes she couldn't.

Sipping her chocolate and lost in thought, she didn't sense the Fae coming near her. A slender youth knocked into her, startling her.

"Excuse you," she said, annoyed. The youth turned and she inhaled sharply. It was a Dark Faery, a Lost one, she knew. His eyes were bulging from his head, black as midnight. Dirty black hair that hadn't been washed, pale skin accentuated by white makeup.

"You're Fae," he hissed. "Help me. I can feel your power."

"I can't help you," she whispered.

It was true. Cocaine, heroin, meth, they destroyed humans slowly, on occasion quickly. To a Faerie, it was an instant addiction and would literally eat their insides within a matter of hours. This one was close to dying. His skin was turning purple and the eyes were bulging out as blood began to run from his nose. Yesterday he was probably a college student, went to a party, and tried something he shouldn't have. Young Faeries were scared at night with stories of what human drugs would do to their delicate bodies.

"Help me," he lunged at her, arms out.

Dropping her drink and cookie, she threw her arms to shield herself. The blue shield ignited immediately but not before her gripped her arms. He began to scream from the burning pain of her protective bubble.

The scream was cut short by a loud snarl and something big, black and furry came flying out of nowhere, tackling the Faerie and pulling it off of Dairine. The force knocked her to the ground and she dropped her shield. Glancing up at the moon she was stunned to see it was not a full moon. Yet there was a werewolf in front of her, a huge, massive werewolf that had to be ten feet tall and weigh over four hundred pounds.

It slashed the throat of the Faerie, and Dairine didn't feel bad. The poor thing was going to die even more hideously if the werewolf hadn't put it out of its misery.

It turned to face her and she froze. Its head was huge, teeth as long as her fingers, yet it studied her from all too human eyes. If it wasn't a full moon, then the only other way for a werewolf to be in this form was to have embraced its inner Beast, and channeled the rage.

She could shield before it jumped, give her time to Port out of here. Her fingers went to the silver pentagram on her breast. A warning. She sent her power out to him, warning him she was no mere mortal. A warm, familiar rush swept back at her and she watched with wide eyes as the beast began to change, shrink, fur vanished, until she stood looking at Mal O'Rourke. In the same clothes he had had on earlier. Looking perfectly … human. Hair mussed a bit but otherwise, very human, still standing in attack position.

"Are you following me?" she managed. Smiling, he bowed low to her.

"I admit I did. And lucky I did, that little guy was in bad shape."

"I know. They never believe until it's too late," she said sadly. "We'd best hide the body."

Mal easily gathered up the remains and hid in them in a nearby patch of trees. By morning the corpse would have melted back into the earth, leaving only its clothes behind. No one would really notice a missing Faerie.

Mal returned and realized she had wrapped her arms around herself. It wasn't exactly cold outside. No crying or sniveling or hysterics from her, just pain from losing a fellow supernatural creature.

"All right?" he touched her lightly, sending warmth rushing over her. She nodded.

"It's hard to see anything in that state."

"Especially one of your own?"

Her head snapped up to stare at him, shimmery eyes wide.

"How-"

"You're at least half," he smiled. "I knew it the moment I looked at you. I'm guessing the other half is a human witch?"

With a vague smile on her lips she nodded. He looked down at her wasted snack on the ground.

"C'mon. I'll walk you home. Unless you want to come to my place," he smiled. She laughed.

"Forget it. I'm not playing Little Red Riding Hood tonight."

Mal laughed.

He insisted on buying her a new snack and drink when they passed the next Starbucks, getting a chocolate for himself as well.

When they reached her building, he didn't mention that his apartment was only a block away. The house was on the outskirts town, but he was only able to be there on the weekends.

"Would you-want to come in?" she asked, knowing the answer.

"Sure," he replied all too casually.

"Don't expect a repeat of this afternoon," she warned. Smiling, he bowed to her when the crackle flew over their skin. Mal whipped his head around.

"Get inside," he ordered in a low voice.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Inside. Now," he almost shoved her in the gate as he listened, felt. Sent his own power back, a warning. The intruder faded away.

Dairine let him inside and shut it tightly.

"What as that about?"

"Just another creature in the vicinity, thinking he'd be a badass. Nothing to worry about," he assured her, following her up the stairs.

She fished the key out of her pocket and undid the deadbolt and doorknob.

"Oh, I hope you like dogs."

'Dog' didn't describe the beast that came to meet them. Mal knew a natural wolf when he saw one of course, and this thing in front of him was at least half.

It stood almost to Dairine's thigh, a black mask, elongated gray muzzle, and he guessed about 90 pounds of pure muscle. The fur was mottled gray and black and the eyes gleamed amber. Black ears stuck up straight, flattening back slightly.

"She's gorgeous," he murmured. The dog stood stock still, sniffing at him. A low growl rumbled in her throat.

"Hey, Grumblebutt, knock it off. He's Mommy's friend," she knelt in front of the dog and rubbed her ears. A moan of pleasure escaped her but Mal wasn't fooled. One yellow eye was firmly on him.

Their eyes met and Mal understood. This was her familiar, her guardian. An alpha female too. Mal knelt and held out his hands, palms down. The dog came forward, suspiciously, and sniffed him thoroughly. Finally she sat back on her haunches and studied him, black ears up.

"What's she say?" Dairine asked, though she knew Grumbles would have attacked by now if she were going to.

"In no uncertain terms, I am not to spend the night until if and when she gives her consent," he smiled at Dairine. "I assume she sleeps with you?"

"Yep."

"At your side or up near your head, never the feet correct?"

"Yep," she was studying him too and Mal felt the odd sensation that the same pair of eyes was watching him from two different heads.

"I'm trying to reassure her that I'm not here to replace her," he added. "It's a greeting of respect, alpha to alpha."

"You'd admit equality to a female alpha?" she asked, surprised.

"Of course. She radiates strength, and power, the same as you. Besides, she's your guardian. Getting on her bad side is not to my advantage at all," he smiled.

"You're welcome to have a seat," she offered, ignoring the comment and leaving the entry to the living room. He stepped forward and Grumbles escorted him to the couch, where she firmly planted herself inches from him, still staring. It was unnerving, really.

The room was painted a warm peach, the furniture all matching dark cherry wood. The sofa and matching chairs were emerald green plush; there were paintings of wolves everywhere, and pictures of Grumbles. Sheer lace curtains hung over the windows, blowing softly in the breeze. The apartment had a sliding glass door with a balcony. Behind him was the kitchen, with a cut out window, and he glimpsed a white refrigerator.

"Doesn't she hate being closed up?" he asked.

"I try to take her to the park every day, and she loves to visit the country. But I'm sure she's restless sometimes."

"You should bring her to my house in the country, just outside of town. It's huge acreage she could run over."

Grumbles ear twitched.

"She would like that," Dairine said neutrally. He studied her for a minute but didn't ask the question he wanted to.

She sat on the other end of the sofa, leaving Grumbles between them.

"How is it you can change at will?" she asked, sipping her drink.

"I'm a natural werewolf. Meaning I was born in to a family of werewolves," he replied casually. She frowned.

"I didn't know that was possible. Not that I'm a werewolf expert."

He smiled. "It's a little known fact. There are only a few families that can do it. Sometimes it skips a generation, sometimes not. Four of my six siblings are Shifter, the other two aren't. Most people call us Weres, some call us Shifters. Same thing. "

Still frowning, Dairine thought hard.

"Wait a minute. I vaguely recall something about the royal families of Europe, someone was rumored to be lycanthrope, generations ago."

"Close," he stretched his legs out. "It's the Royal families of Lycanthropes you're thinking of. Descended from the ancient Gods themselves."

Dairine processed that thoroughly.

"You're royalty?"

"Of sorts," he shrugged. "It means nothing to mortals. To other werewolves however, it means a great deal."

"Such as?"

"The power that comes with it is incredible. We have a few extra gifts that most regular werewolves don't. Changing at will is one of them."

"So can you control the Beast on the full moon?" she asked.

Regretfully, Mal shook his head.

"Not really. It's too overpowering, even for us. I've gotten better but it's kind of like walking a tightrope."

"What other kinds of gifts do you have?" she asked. He smiled.

"Tell you what. For every bit of information I give you, you have to give me one," he suggested. She laughed.

"I don't like to talk about myself."

"Well, you don't have to," he smiled mischievously. "I ask a question for each of your questions."

He could tell she wasn't enthusiastic about the idea but it appealed to her sense of fairness.

"All right. . .but if it's too personal we both have the right to refuse."

"Agreed," but he would answer anything for her.

"So the last question was about your other gifts."

"All of them?" he asked in amusement. She shrugged.

"At least a few."

"Well, I'm what's called a Metamorph, meaning I can change part of my body at any time without having to change entirely. I would demonstrate but I fear Miss Grumbles there would attack."

Dairine was leaning forward, eyes glowing, absorbed in his seductive, mellow voice. It wrapped around her body and slid through the threads of her clothes, barely touching her skin.

"I also have an affinity with animals that most werewolves don't. Most domestic dogs will attack because they sense the difference. It might be because she's half wolf that she didn't attack immediately, but as any good guardian, is still suspicious."

Grumbles laid her muzzle on the top of Dairine's knee, the eyes never wavering from Mal.

"Then there are little things, like I hear the voice of the woods. What most werewolves would only feel, I hear. Same with other earth creatures, such as Fae. I feel them faster than most Shifters."

Dairine had been staring into his eyes and felt herself drowning in a warm, wet sensation as he spoke. Why the hell was this man having such an effect on her?

"Is that a sufficient answer?" he asked. She nodded with a smile. "Then my question to you would be, will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

Dairine laughed.

"Is that too personal?" he asked with a smile.

Dairine shook her head, red waves falling forward.

"No."

"No, it's not too personal or no, you won't?" he asked, still smiling.

"No, it's not too personal," she was smiling and he felt his heart speeding up.

Her energy was just pulling in him. It caressed his skin like silk, gentle and soft and erotic. The blue eyes were more than electric; they were a never ending pool of sensuality that he wanted to dive in and never leave.

"Then you will?"

"That's your third question," she smiled. He laughed.

"So I owe you two. Ask away."

"Why are you so persistent in asking me out?" she asked.

Mal hesitated. Lying to her would do no good. She'd see through it and be offended.

"You fascinate me. This afternoon, in your office, it set me on fire. The way our magicks collided, it just blew me away. Not only are you physically a beautiful woman, but your aura and your spirit are as well. The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were something special. I can feel your skin against my fingers and I'd swear I could taste it. I want to know why you have this effect on me and I want to see where it can go."

Dairine drank the last of her cocoa.

"Why did you hesitate to tell me that?"

"Because I didn't want to scare you with the intensity of what I was going to say. But I also knew that you'd know I was lying if I didn't say it. So I took the risk of scaring you off completely."

Dairine nodded.

"Yes."

"Yes what?" he asked.

"I'll have dinner with you tomorrow night."

Mal grinned.

"Will you let me cook for you or do you prefer a public place?"

"Let's stick to public for now," she smiled.

"Don't want to get eaten by the Big Bad Wolf?" he chuckled, enjoying watching the blush creep along her fair skin.

"Depends on what course I am," she met his eyes and he laughed. He could smell her desire, and he was sure she could see his in his aura.

"Do you want to watch a movie or keep talking?"

"I'm enjoying talking with you," he smiled.

"Then would you like some coffee?"

"I'd like you to not be so nervous and come sit a little closer," he met her gaze steadily.

"I can feel you from here," she smiled.

"Do you think Miss Grumbles there will let you? I fear if I move closer she won't be real happy."

Dairine reached over and rubbed the dog's silky ears.

"I'm going to make some tea," she said evasively.

Heading into the kitchen she exhaled. He was intense. And she wanted him. She hadn't been with a man in over two years. Celibacy had helped keep her focused when she was working. Now she had this man, the epitome of her fantasy, physically at last. So he was a werewolf. He turned into a big hairy monster that could kill people and was capable of tearing a person apart, even in his human form.

Sensing him before he spoke, she put the kettle on and turned. Standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, he was watching her.

"Yes?" she asked mildly.

Mal smiled. Why bother telling her what he had been thinking when he could show her. Silently he reached out with his power, letting it touch her. Her magick came rushing back, teasing him as they began to mingle, and he realized his breathing was labored. With a smile he crossed the small kitchen to her and drew her into his arms.

Without hesitation she lifted her face to his and he pressed his lips down on her. Hands ran down her back, feeling the softness of the silk, then down the curves of her bottom, touching the soft fabric that clung to them.

Her fingers ran over his chest, over the fabric of the sweater. Power was rolling off of him in waves, and she wanted to absorb it. Dairine drank it in as they kissed, tongues teasing, tasting and she felt him lift her up onto the counter. He was unbuttoning her shirt, cupping his hands around her breasts as he kissed her chin and throat, trailing kisses down to her breasts. Dairine couldn't stop him as she drowned in the lust, pushing her own power back on him. Without thinking she tugged his sweater off, revealing his muscled chest. Some how she doubted it was tanned, he probably had the natural color. Her fingertips teased his nipples as he unsnapped her bra and slid her shirt off, kissing her shoulders.

The low growl went unnoticed at first, the second time Dairine thought it was coming from him. A third, new energy smacked her in the head and she pushed Mal back as he slid his fingers into the waistband of her slacks.

Grumbles stood in the doorway, snarling, and her hackles up. Mal turned to her and made a soft noise. Grumbles growled louder, baring her teeth.

"Damn," he pulled away from Dairine but the energy was still around them, entwining them. "She says I'm going too far."

Dairine sighed and slid her shirt back on, buttoning it quickly, but leaving the bra off.

"She had a point," she murmured, pulling her magic back. He turned to her, looking lost.

"I apologize," he said.

"Don't," she smiled up at him as she hopped off the counter and stepped up to him. "I could have stopped you."

They both knew it was a lie. Neither one could stop. It had taken Grumbles interference to stop their passion.

"I can't help it," he sighed, pulling a thick strand of her soft hair through his fingers. "I look at you and all I can think about is kissing you."

"I don't want to rush this," she looked up at him. "I haven't been in involved with anyone in a very long time."

"I understand," he kissed her lips ever so lightly. "I don't want to screw this up by rushing. But I'm not one to use a woman and then just leave. It's not me."

This was something she had heard before, or a variation of it so she just smiled slightly. She always sensed the lie, but this time she didn't. He was being truthful.

"I won't lie to you, Dairine," he looked into her eyes. "I'm not like other guys."

"How do you know what I'm thinking?" she asked. He smiled.

"I'm not telepathic if that's what you're asking. But I am fairly empathic. Besides, I'm also very logical, and I know enough about you to know that you've been hurt, and you've suffered, and I know a lot of men who make that claim as a way to get what they want."

"You don't know much about me," she tried to laugh.

"I can feel you. I can taste you, your power. I can smell your skin, your very essence. It says so much, more than you have to say."

Dairine swallowed. She didn't know how to answer that.

"Grumbles wants me to leave. She's very unhappy with me right now."

"I don't want you to leave but if you stay we might end up doing something to provoke her."

"That's the last thing I want." Dairine was sorry to see him pull his sweater on and cover up the ever so nice chest.

Smiling, he hugged her tightly.

"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever known," he said softly, running one finger over her chin. "I plan to woo you and your familiar."

Dairine laughed and he kissed her very chastely, before he left, escorted to the door by grumbles.

Dairine turned the kettle off and went to change into her pjs.

Laying in her king size bed with Grumbles stretched out along side her; she stared up at the ceiling. She wanted this man. Wolf. Whatever. She wanted him. She couldn't ever remember wanting someone so badly, someone with power to equal hers, to match hers, bind with it so tightly. She would have let him take her right there in kitchen if Grumbles hadn't interfered. All she wanted was to touch him, taste him, and revel in him.

Mal took note of the address as he left. He had every intention of seeing her again.