Wolf's Fire (The Narcoleptic Vampire Series Vol. 3.2)

By Dicey Grenor

Punch, werewolf pack leader and head of security for Pit of Hades Fetish Club, is guided by purpose, love, and loyalty. It's been that way for centuries. When acquaintances from his past come to town and challenge each of these areas in his life, will Punch be able to control his inner beast? During this Tribulation period, should he even have to?

*Since Punch was the most requested character for a book of his own, this one is for fans of The Narcoleptic Vampire Series. Dicey's standard warning regarding sex, violence, and profanity applies.*

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dicey Grenor
• Release date: Sep 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310896361

Dicey Grenor

Wife to my best friend and biggest supporter. Mother of two handfuls. Attorney in Houston, Texas. Author of sexy, daring, wild and risky books.

Book preview

WOLF’S FIRE

A NOVELLA OF

The Narcoleptic

Vampire Series

Vol. 3.2

Dicey Grenor

Dicey Grenor Books

Published by Dicey Grenor

Independent Author

Smashwords Edition

www.Diceygrenorbooks.com

Copyright © Dicey Grenor, 2013

All rights reserved

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrightable materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Cover model: Danyahel (Danny) Norris.

Dedicated to: My hubby and babies’ daddy,

who finally gets his werewolf book.

Acknowledgments

Dicey loves all her fans. Thanks so much for your love and support. *mwah*

To my betas—Kendralyn Jasper, Bill Fowlkes, and Danyahel Norris—you were there with me from beginning to end, letting me know what worked and what didn’t. You know how much I appreciate you. You better.

To Douglas Meeks and Jane Linsdell—your ARC feedback set my mind at ease about this story. I’m grateful for your continued support and friendship.

Thanks so much to Natalie Berry for stepping in and helping with my FB page.

Thanks to Stephanie Norris, Randolph Norris, Tiffany Logan, Samantha Bagby, Jaies Baptiste, Natalie Berry, Susie King, Kendralyn Jasper, Deanna Stom, Bill Fowlkes…and all the many FB friends who helped pick the cover image.

Thanks to Tasha Wilson, Kendralyn Jasper, Danyahel Norris, and Jaies Baptiste for helping me rock the house at Comicpalooza this year. Here’s hoping we have fun at more cons in years to come.

There is one special person that stood out to me even more during the creation of this book, Danyahel (Danny) Norris, my husband. I really couldn’t have done this without you. You worked with me on biblical context (sure hope I don’t get struck by lightning), packed on twenty-five pounds of muscle for the cover image, bit your lip instead of complaining about having pizza while I was trying to finish the book, encouraged me to keep writing and eff the haters… I really can’t thank you enough. One word comes to mind when I think of you, mi amor: irreplaceable. Thanks for all you do and for being who you are. ((((hugs))))

Man is to man either a god or a wolf.

~Desiderius Erasmus

Other books by Dicey Grenor

The Narcoleptic Vampire Series:

Sleepy Willow’s Bonded Soul (Vol. 1)

Sleepy Willow’s Heartless Soul (Vol. 2)

Sleepy Willow’s Loosed Soul (Vol. 3)

Zeek’s Loving Thorn (Vol. 3.1)

Along Came a Killer (Vol. 3.3)

Shameful (Taboo)

How to Have a Perfect Marriage

(Dark Comedy Novelette)

Best Friends, Fantasy Lovers

(Erotic rock star romance)

Chapter 1

Punch looked down at his attire and shook his head solemnly. I can’t believe this shit.

He was in utter turmoil, ready to bang some skulls. Angry with himself for letting her talk him into this. On his one night off. Pffff. He should have just stayed at home, but no. He couldn’t refuse her. She was his weakness. After overcoming so many adversities in life, he’d allowed her to become his Achilles heel. He’d allowed it. Somewhere underneath all his machismo, his lust for this woman had made him sink this low.

Not only was he promised to another, which made his lustful desires all the more illicit, but there was no way a self-respecting man would ever step out of the house like this. Not a real one. Not under normal circumstances without a gun to his head. Had he really agreed to this because she’d convinced him his bodyguard skills were necessary when she scoped out the human Halloween party off Westheimer? Or did he get dolled up like a dick so he could spend time with her outside the ever-watchful eyes at Hades? He’d wager the latter, and that bothered him.

Sure, she’d played up his altruistic side, even used the label team player, like he’d ever displayed a selfish bone in his body. Fact was she knew how to get to him. She’d played him like a fiddle, stirring up his protective syndrome, and he fell for it every time.

Right about now, Punch decided being a team player was overrated. So was lust.

He changed his mind as she parted the crowd and walked towards him, her crimson gown swaying at her ankles, her pearl earrings and bracelet sparkling under the disco light. He could smell her divineness from across the room. There was no one else like her. No other scent like that. His heart started to race, and he cursed under his breath. She’d know the effect she had on him if she tuned in to the way his chest boomed with excitement like a teenaged groupie around his favorite rock star. Then again, she was no idiot. A bit sassy and eccentric maybe, but not dumb. She wouldn’t and couldn’t be surprised by his reaction to her. She knew. Had to. It had been like this since he’d first met her. He would have cursed the day if he hadn’t believed all the prophecies that foreshadowed their intertwined fates.

Ahoy there, matey. Arrrrrrr, Willow snickered as she curtsied in front of him.

That did it. He refused to take the ridiculous yellow parrot perched on his shoulder, or the ridiculous black leather eye patch strangling his head, or the ridiculous plastic sword swinging on his hip any longer. He started ripping those pieces of his costume off until they landed on the floor one by one. He felt some satisfaction in watching other ridiculously clad, non-self-esteem-having folks trample all over what he’d formally worn as part of his costume.

I can’t believe I let you talk me into this, his voice rumbled partly because it was always a deep baritone, and partly because he was growling from anger at himself for letting Willow get to him. He couldn’t even blame her for this like any other warm-bloodied male worth his salt would. He was in a roomful of people wearing masks and elegant costumes, and though he should feel humiliated that his costume was out of place, he was more upset over his lack of will power where she was concerned. He had let Willow entice him into coming to this shindig to begin with, and that was unacceptable, if not gay. He hadn’t even fucked her, and he already acted whipped and ball-less.

Hey, what are you doing? She tried for concern and fell short, unable to hide her amusement.

Getting out of this mess and going to find my dignity and testosterone. He pulled the string of colorful beads looped around one of his long dreadlocks and tossed them to the floor, watching them scatter around like fruit loops. Men didn’t wear barrettes. Men of his stature and position didn’t go against their better judgments over women just because they got boners either. Well, maybe some men did. Not Punch. He preferred to stay on the sidelines and make sure everyone else had a safe environment to play in rather than dressing up and actually participating. Role playing was not his thing. Cosplay was definitely not his thing.

All that time he’d been working at Pit of Hades Fetish Club, he’d never once gotten involved in the kinks. He’d observed. He’d kicked some ass. He’d delegated security tasks to others. He’d done whatever he had to do to keep the place safe for those who had their minds in the gutter. That was his role, his calling. He sacrificed to make sure others could enjoy themselves. He was a straight-laced, all-American, wholesome good ol’ boy who did not dress in costumes and attend parties on his nights off of security duty.

This IS all Willow’s fault. Thankfully, he’d finally found half a nutsack before he did something really stupid like curtsy back.

She threw her head back, exposing more of her ample brown cleavage in the low cut gown, and laughed. It’s a masquerade ball, silly, not a pirate convention.

Well, you just told me I needed a costume. I’ve never been to anything like this… he looked down at his ruffled sleeves and growled, and I shouldn’t have come tonight. With one palm, he grabbed the Jack Sparrow hat from his head, tossed it on the floor, and kicked it across the room. While en route, it was kicked again twenty times by masked people waltzing around the nightclub. He smiled at the ruined hat getting just what it deserved. I’m outta here. Call me if you need backup.

From what he could tell, it was a party with several bars for humans who liked to get drunk and pretend to be someone they weren’t. As long as she didn’t start biting them while she searched the crowd for supernaturals, Willow would be fine.

Party pooper, she pouted.

I came. I saw. I left. Fuck this.

Please don’t go. Willow removed her mask and gave him the full weight of her hazel eyes.

Damn. Why she have to go and do that? Whether she was intentionally trying to spell him with her magic or not, didn’t matter. The chemistry between them was undeniable, irresistible, and fully charged when they made eye contact for more than a few seconds. He sighed, intending to look away but was unable to do so. As long as she asked him to stay, it would be hell to refuse her.

He had to appeal to her sensibility. Your clan and my pack are spread throughout both floors. If there are any supernaturals here, they will be found and urged to come with us. You don’t need me here for that. He spread his arms, looking downward to indicate his emasculating brown knit pants and striped sash. We all have our roles to play, and this isn’t mine. I’ve humiliated myself enough for one evening. His eyes formed a question, begging her to release him from her non-magical hypnotism. Feeling like he was letting her down was even worse than parading around in his clown suit. Thank Baal she couldn’t actually captivate him. Their particular blood bond bound him more than he could stand already.

She reached behind her head, smoothing hair from her nape to the top of her head where it was piled neatly in some kind of bun. "But we hardly have a chance to spend time together anymore. I want you here. She looked at the dance floor and swayed left and right. I want to dance with you. You’re always so serious all the time. So intense. You never have fun."

"Oh, I have fun. Plenty of it. With my wife." It was a cheap blow, its childish bite magnified by the look on Willow’s face. She looked offended that he would bring Fire up at a time like this, but it was more for his benefit than hers. He had to be reminded that he belonged to someone else, a dragon that would eat them whole and spit out their eyeballs. Knowing their destinies did not include death in the near future, did nothing to make the image in his head of Fire eating them seem any less likely.

I don’t want to fuck you. I just want to dance. I thought it would be nice to, you know…hang out as friends, instead of us just working together all the time.

His heart thumped harder as he caught the motion of her tongue licking her bottom lip. But I don’t trust myself around you. Her eyes narrowed so subtly, no one else would probably have noticed. It had happened, letting him know she’d caught her effect on him. She clamped her mouth shut and looked away.

Good thing she never did anything intentionally. If she ever tried to seduce him, he’d be weak. Working with her and being bonded to her was already too much. She was forbidden fruit, ripened to his liking with a big stamp on her forehead that said DO NOT TOUCH. She’d done her best to make sure nothing sexual transpired between them. At least in that regard, she had shown herself to be someone who respected him. Even inviting him to a public place under the disguise of recruitment showed she wanted to keep things platonic. At least it hadn’t been to a hotel room. She genuinely did consider him to be her friend. Somewhere underneath the overwhelming animalistic