* * *
Yawning, my eyes still closed, I stretched on Winkler's bed and discovered I was buried beneath a mountain of covers.
"Time to wake up, sleepyhead," Winkler tugged the blankets off my face. He was sitting on the side of my bed. Again.
"What is wrong with you?" I asked, flipping the covers off and sliding my legs over the side of his king-size bed. It would take a king-size for him; he was six-three or thereabouts in his socks.
"I just enjoy watching a pretty woman get out of bed in the morning. Er, well, evening."
"Jerk." I smacked the top of his head when I stood and headed for the bathroom.
"Did I say your ass looks good in those PJs?" he called after me. I'd already shut the door so it was too late to give him another rude gesture. Maybe I was going to have to learn to curse in multiple languages, like Gavin did.
"Now what are you doing?" Winkler was hovering while I pulled out my laptop and set it up next to his on the hotel room desk.
"I need to email somebody," I said. "He worries so I was going to tell him I'm fine."
"What's his name?"
"Franklin, and he's g*y. Schmuck."
"Him or me?"
"The g*y part or the schmuck part?"
"The schmuck part. You know I'm not g*y." Winkler snorted.
"Yeah. How about that?" I said, tapping out a quick message to Franklin and hitting send. I shut my laptop and turned to Winkler. "Where's the cooler?" I asked. I had no idea where they'd put it.
"In Weldon's room. Locked, of course."
"Of course," I mumbled.
"I have the key." Winkler pulled it out of a pocket and shook it at me.
"Are you going to tease me with it all night or do I have to go hunt my dinner?"
"You take the fun out of everything," Winkler grumbled.
"Oh, like I'd stand between you and a half-raw piece of bovine when you're hungry," I retorted.
"I may eat sheep now and then. The occasional lobster, with plenty of butter."
"Maybe two lobsters," I said. "I've seen you eat, remember?"
"Maybe." Winkler grinned. "We can't help it if our metabolism is so much faster than a human's."
"At least you were born that way; you have a legitimate excuse," I grumbled.
"But I love full moons," Winkler was waxing poetic, now. "I love venison after a kill."
"You get two next month," I said. I'd checked the calendar; December actually had a second full moon.
"Yeah." Winkler's eyes closed in pleasure. "It's like a Christmas present for the werewolves." He opened his eyes and looked down at me. "I don't suppose you know how to do Thanksgiving dinner?"
"Who do you think you're talking to, here?" I asked, tapping my chest. "I make very good turkey and dressing. I just wish I could still eat it."
"You can eat it, you just can't taste it," Winkler reminded me.
"Yeah. And then I have to cough it all up later. Why are you asking about this anyway?"
"Because we're all going to be in Dallas for Thanksgiving—Weldon's consented to come, Daryl will bring Kathy Jo down, and Whitney and Sam are coming. Unfortunately, most of my staff will be off. I thought I was going to have to get the thing catered."
"Oh, yeah. Those are never the same as home cooked," I said. "I'll do turkey for you, Winkler. But only because it's you." I waggled a finger at him.
"Can I get an inflated ego now?" he smirked.
"You already have one the size of Canada," I said. "If it gets any larger, it may damage the ozone layer."
"If you'll make a list, I'll send it to the staff at the Dallas house; they can buy what you need and have it waiting when we get there." Winkler was still on the subject of dinner and not the self-aggrandizing.
"Good enough," I said. "But if they shop for the turkey only a day or two ahead, have them buy a fresh one. I hate thawing turkeys at the last minute."
"I'll be sure and tell them that." He wanted to laugh at me, I could tell. I wanted to kick his ass.
We were having dinner with one of the more affluent members of the Des Moines Pack. He'd made his money in alternative energy production (mostly ethanol, this was Iowa). He had a nice, large house, had hired the meal catered and the Pack had come, adults only. Of course, the werewolves were on their best behavior while the human caterers were there, but the food service employees were instructed to lay out the meal buffet style and then leave. They'd arranged to pick up pans and utensils the following day.
Avery also made plans for four of his wolves to guard the perimeter of the property. The owner lived outside Des Moines on an acreage surrounded by (no surprise) corn fields. It was my job as well as Winkler's and Kelvin's to watch over the Grand Master in closer quarters.
The staff left, the meal was eaten and then the ceremony began. I didn't eat with the others; I stood outside the large dining room while the werewolves laughed and talked. If anything came in that wasn't scheduled, it was my duty to take care of it.
Weldon was giving his blessing, werewolf style, to Avery when one of the wolf guards from outside came through the front door. That normally wouldn't worry me, except he was dragging a young human woman along with him and she was crying. I followed along behind the wolf and the girl as she was hauled into the dining room and tossed in the floor at Avery and Weldon's feet.
"She sneaked back onto the property," the guard declared. "She saw Ruben and Jasper as wolves."
"I didn't sneak, I swear," the girl sobbed. "I left my rings in the kitchen. I took them off to rinse out a few pans before we packed them up. I drove up, two men were at the gate and they told me to park and come inside. That's when I saw the wolves. I just came back for my jewelry. Please let me go." She was terrified. I had no doubt she'd seen werewolves, all right.
"Well, girlie, that's too bad, isn't it?" Avery was almost growling and he had a nasty grin on his face. "Looks like we may have a hunt tonight, folks."
Even Weldon looked a little shocked, I could tell, but he wasn't interrupting. I was about to. Stalking over to Avery and the wolf who'd brought the girl in, I let them know exactly how I felt. "You will do no such thing, you poor excuse for a flea-bitten mutt," I shouted, shaking a finger in Avery's face. "If I have to take on every one of you, I will. But all it takes is just the barest of compulsion," I lowered my voice. "Honey," I lifted the girl to her feet and took her face in my hands; "we'll get your rings. You just drove up and came in, asking us to get your rings for you, didn't you? You didn't see anything except people having their dessert, isn't that right?" The girl nodded, her eyes a little blank. The sobbing stopped.