Lilith Mercury, Werewolf Hunter: The Complete Edition (Books 1-7)
Author: Tracey H. Kitts
Date: 2015-10-15 00:00:00+00:00
Description: What if werewolves were real? What if a wizard powerful enough to rule the world only wants to write plays and drink tea? What if Dracula lived in Florida and tried to tan to death ... more than once? Welcome to the life of Lilith Mercury. *This collection is being offered at a special price.* This mammoth collection (nearly 600,000 words of content) includes all SEVEN books in the Lilith Mercury, Werewolf Hunter series. This series focuses on the life of Lilith Mercury, a werewolf Hunter who is also half werewolf. Did I mention there are several sexy men in her life? This story has graphic vi

The Lilith Mercury, Werewolf Hunter Boxed Set includes:

1.   Red

2.   Object of My Affection

3.   The Dread Moon

Other books by Tracey H. Kitts

The Lilith Mercury, Werewolf Hunter Series

Red

Object of My Affection

The Dread Moon

Original Sin

A Dream Forbidden

Books unrelated to the series

Necromancer

Bitten

Once in a Blue Moon

Diary of an Incubus

Wicked City

Sex Symbol

Till the break of Dawn

Three Days of Night

Fate’s Embrace

Raven’s Destiny

Touch of an Incubus

Frank and The Werewolf Tamer

Constant Cravings

The Eternal Kiss

Writing as T.K. Hardin

Dracula: In the Flesh

www.traceyhkitts.com

Red by Tracey H. Kitts

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Red Copyright © March, 2007 Tracey H. Kitts

Cover art designed by Tracey H. Kitts

Object of My Affection by Tracey H. Kitts

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Object of My Affection Copyright © September, 2007 Tracey H. Kitts

Cover art designed by Tracey H. Kitts

The Dread Moon by Tracey H. Kitts

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Dread Moon Copyright © March, 2008 Tracey H. Kitts

Cover art designed by Tracey H. Kitts

Photos used from www.bigstock.com

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author, Tracey H. Kitts.

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Table of Contents

RED

OBJECT OF MY AFFECTION

THE DREAD MOON

RED

By

Tracey H. Kitts

Dedication

To my mom who always knew I had talent, and to my dad who always knew it came from him.

Prologue

Lycanthropy is often referred to as a mental condition in which an individual believes himself to be a werewolf, but it’s much more than that. The Greeks have another explanation. According to their mythology, a king named Lycaon was visited by Zeus, King of the gods, in disguise. Thinking his visitor to be nothing but a beggar, (and apparently looking to be cruel) the king served Zeus human flesh. As punishment for serving something so foul to a god, Lycaon was cursed for his animalistic ways, making him the very first werewolf. According to mythology, that’s what happened. I don’t even want to know why mythology says this king had human flesh on hand in his kitchen. He really did exist and all, but that’s not what happened.

In reality, Lycaon was visited by a werewolf whom he owed a great deal of money. Knowing what he was Lycaon served his guest the flesh in an effort to appease him. He was contaminated with lycanthropy as punishment for not paying his debt. Apparently, werewolves don’t like to be stiffed.

This isn’t how the disease was started. But it is how it got the name most people recognize. What has this story got to do with me? I’m getting there.

Chapter One

I was looking forward to the end of another hot, miserable summer night as I drove home that evening. Hopefully, the local police would be able to cover up the night’s work without too much difficulty. God forbid they should be inconvenienced. I was called out at eleven thirty at night to hunt down a rouge werewolf, but hey, why should anyone else lose sleep?

Hearing the gravel of the driveway crunching underneath my tires was a relief. It was my signal that I was almost home. Oh, what I would have given to just crawl into bed and sleep for a couple of days. If I didn’t hate to stain my sheets with blood, I might have done just that.

I drove around to the back of the house, got out of the car, began unfastening my many weapons and depositing them in the trunk. I had just removed my long silver blade and closed the lid when I realized I had also locked up my keys. “This,” I said to myself, “is why you need one of those little rocks to hide a key.” Before I could make an attempt at breaking into my own house, a noise caught my attention. It sounded like something was crunching through the underbrush in the nearby woods.

Since I was locked out anyway, I decided to investigate. I should have used more caution. But, I had stopped being afraid of the dark a long time ago. There was nothing in the dark worse than me, not that night.

I looked up, admiring the beautiful night sky. The next thing I knew, I was face down in the grass with something heavy on my back. I should have seen it coming. Perhaps I was more tired than I had thought. The werewolf growled, pressing me farther into the ground. I could taste dirt between my teeth, feel its claws digging into my shoulders, and its hot breath on the back of my neck.

I dug my knees farther into the grass, pushing back with my hips. By the time I rolled over and jumped to my feet, the werewolf had run back into the woods. I tore off after it, listening to the sound of its frantic footfalls ahead of me. Ducking limbs, jumping roots, and dashing around branches, I stopped at last and listened to the night around me. It was quiet. When I say quiet, I don’t mean the normal sounds of a hot summer night. There were no birds, no crickets chirping, nothing.

I closed my eyes and sensed the woods around me, reaching out for any trace of human emotion—a thought, a feeling, a heartbeat. I felt something moving back toward the house. I started back more slowly, more quietly than before. I was in the woods hunting a werewolf with all my weapons locked in the trunk of my car. It was not my night. I could only imagine what my father would say. Here was Lilith Mercury, a well-known and respected Hunter, out hunting werewolves without so much as a silver nail file.

As I approached the house, I found the werewolf looking through the glass walls of my sunroom at the open back door to the kitchen. All he had to do was break the latch on the sunroom door and he would be inside. Nope. I did not want to have to kill a werewolf in my clean house. Better to take care of things while he was outside. Without further thought to stealth, I sprang on him. My arm wrapped tightly around his massive throat. He flung his head back hard, knocking me into the flower bed where I hit my head on a large shepherd’s hook. The shepherd’s hook! Why didn’t I think of it before? The hook was plated with silver!

I jumped up and snatched on the hook. Whack. I was back on the ground again, enjoying the flavor of an azalea branch. While spitting out some flowers, I stood up and pulled on the hook again. This time I managed to get it out of the ground. I was immediately knocked off my feet again, but I held on to the hook. It was positioned at the perfect angle when, a split second later, the beast leapt upon me, impaling himself on the silver.

He howled with fury and began pulling the hook through his body, pulling himself closer to me. I put my boot against his chest and shoved him backward, removing the hook from his body with a sickening slicing noise. He staggered back against the house. I slammed the hook across the side of his head, knocking him to his knees before I stabbed the silver through the back of his neck, and watched as his body slumped to the ground.

After washing the bloody smears off the vinyl siding, I decided to break in the back door and call it a night. This time, I locked the kitchen door.

*****

I heard footsteps coming from the staircase leading into the research lab beneath the house. Alfred came rushing up, looking completely disheveled.

“Good night, Alfred,” I said, continuing toward the stairs.

“What’s going on?”

“I handled it,” I answered simply.

He stomped barefoot across the foyer into the kitchen. “Holy shit,” he said, as he stomped back toward me. “You can’t just leave that monster in the backyard,” he insisted.

Being something other than human myself, I took offense at the word monster. It must have shown in my expression as his next words were not spoken so harshly.

“What were you thinking?” he asked.

“That you could handle something, for once.”

“Fine.” And with that, he turned back toward the lab and I ascended the stairs.

Dr. Alfred Moody isn’t exactly what you’d call normal either, but he’s human. I knew him through his work with my father before he became my partner. He’s about six-foot-five with dark hair and skin the color of an exotic caramel. He’s in decent shape, but not overly muscular. However, I didn’t doubt he could handle disposing of a werewolf carcass. He’s a brilliant scientist, twenty-six years my senior. I believed he had spent every one of those years with his nose in a book.

“Wait,” he called.

“What?” I asked, walking back toward where Alfred stood at the foot of the stairs.

“What about the report? You know the commander will be expecting a report on the incident tonight.”

I looked at him blankly for a moment. I had honestly forgotten about giving a report. “Alfred, there are advantages to him being my father. I’ll make the report in the morning.”

“I’ll make the report,” he said with a sigh. “Come on, give me the gist of it.”

I walked back down the stairs and into the sitting room to the left. Alfred clicked on a lamp and I winced.

“What? I can’t write in the dark,” he said, taking a note pad out of his lab coat. He had a point. I normally didn’t turn on the lamp. Why bother with the light, when you can see in the dark?

I gave Alfred the rundown. Just as he rose to leave, I happened to glance out the window. Storm clouds had appeared over what was once a clear sky. The faint rumble of thunder in the distance told me I would sleep well, if I could ever get to bed. I’ve always loved a good storm, and living in Florida, I got plenty of them.

Gazing out underneath the gathering storm clouds, I caught sight of Marco Barak watching my house through the first sprinkles of rain. I’d left something out of the rundown I’d given Alfred. I recognized the werewolf I had killed earlier. He was a friend of Marco’s. According to what I knew of him, there was a true monster, though at first glance one might be mistaken. Marco was attractive in that rough Harley Davidson, Marlboro Man sort of way. Sexy and rugged, with a natural tan and dusty brown hair. I’d spoken to him only once before. He was being trained as a Hunter years ago, when he’d been contaminated. That had been at least eight years ago, making him around thirty-four now.

He hadn’t changed. Even through the rain growing steadily harder, I could see his tall frame clearly, looking exactly as I remembered him. Marco is around six feet tall, though he has always appeared larger to me. But, everyone seems tall when you’re five-foot-four.

I was on the way to my father’s office when we’d bumped into each other all those years ago. It was the first time I’d worn my now customary black leather cat-suit.

“Why black?” he’d asked.

“Stealth.”

Marco smiled at me. As I recalled, he had a nice smile, even white teeth, and full lips. Like I said, the man was good-looking.

“Why bother? That red hair of yours glows in the dark.” He ruffled my hair and walked away. I didn’t know him well, but I’d thought he was a nice guy. Everyone had, including my father, who beats himself up to this day for not killing him when he had the chance. No one expected him to go crazy once he turned, let alone form a resistance group. By the way, that’s the “official” term for a wolf pack.

My father is the commander of The Hunters, a group originally formed on planet Terra to eliminate the threat of werewolves. They are the most elite group of professional assassins the world has ever known…and yet, the world doesn’t know them. Very few people know of the existence of The Hunters. A few of the local police and political figures had to be informed, for obvious reasons.

Werewolves have turned up for centuries in legends and myths from different cultures around the world. Every country has its own version of the werewolf, what they look like, and the powers they have. It is not a coincidence that before people on other continents were aware of each other, they had all developed their version of the same legend.

Lycanthropy was created during the only world war the planet Terra has ever known. It’s a man-made disease, born of nightmares. It was engineered as a biological weapon by Lionel Ferdinand, a scientist with radical ideas of what should be done with individuals who disagreed with his own political views. The idea was that people contaminated with the disease would transform and annihilate everyone else. Not everyone is capable of contracting lycanthropy, however. Just as some people have immunity to certain diseases they have been immunized against, others have a natural resistance. It was from these people that a vaccine was developed. Many hoped it would be “the cure” for what was at the time known as the animal virus. Unfortunately, such was not the case. The virus ran rampant. The only person rumored to have developed a successful vaccine was Ferdinand himself, who had at this point already been killed, slaughtered by a monster of his own making. Only pieces of his research were ever found. The complete formula, it would appear, was in his head. And most unfortunately, that had been lopped off by a werewolf.

Something had to be done. It was at this point that The Hunters were formed under the supervision of the acting President of the United Continental Terran Federation, Josiah Roark. Roark, formally vice President, had been forced into action by the contamination of the President himself. Not exactly the way he wanted to take office, I’m sure. It had been the first mission of The Hunters to assassinate their own President.

Once the disease began to come under some sort of control on planet Terra, people who were contaminated began escaping to Earth. What’s more, this was not the first time they had done so. The environments are similar enough, though at the time, Earth was in its primitive stages. Before anyone realized what was happening, the disease had already spread to Earth. That was the beginning, thousands of years ago, of the organization my father now commands. He’s the reason I am still alive, but that’s another story.

My reverie was broken by a loud crash in the basement, followed by a thunderous curse from Alfred. I blinked. In the seconds it took me to look back through the window, Marco was gone. I remembered my idea of just crawling between the sheets, and seriously considered it for a moment. I looked down at my blood stained hands, attempted to run my fingers through my blood crusted hair and decided against it. I definitely needed a bath first.

I was tired in a way that makes your very bones ache for sleep. I trudged wearily to the upstairs bathroom and closed the door behind me, desperately needing to relax. I kicked off my boots beside the chair near the door. There was blood underneath my fingernails and dry, scaly places on my cat-suit that was probably more blood. I peeled the suit off and let it stay where it fell.

I was tough when I had to be. I didn’t back down from a fight or a challenge. I wore leather instead of lace, and silver blades had long since replaced my jewelry. But, I’m still a woman, and sometimes nothing is more appealing to me than a bubble bath. Normally, I just took a quick shower. But that night I filled the tub with water as hot as I could stand and bubbles up to my throat. A few minutes later, I was listening to my favorite R&B CD and lighting some vanilla scented candles.

Lowering myself into the water, I winced. The water was so hot it made my skin tingle. After the night I’d had, I welcomed the slight pain. It was a nice distraction from the things I’d seen. I had finished washing the blood from my hair and scrubbing under my nails when the door opened. Alfred came in, clipboard in hand.

“I’ve just finished my report. Tell me if this makes sense.”

He walked over to the closed toilet seat and sat down on top of my towel. He just walked in and started talking like there wasn’t a naked woman in the tub, like Barry’s deep velvet voice wasn’t playing on the radio. I must have really been losing my touch when men could walk into my naked presence and not even notice me. Not flattering.

“What do you think?” Alfred finally stopped talking.

Sighing with a weariness which seemed beyond physical fatigue, I realized I hadn’t heard a word he’d said. “Can we talk about this tomorrow?” I asked.

Alfred checked his watch. “It is tomorrow.”

I just blinked at him, too tired to do anything else. He seemed to study me more closely, as if I were something interesting under one of his microscopes.

“Maybe you should get some sleep. You look like shit.” Oh, the flattery never stops! I stood up suddenly, letting the bubbles slide down my body.

“Fine, but you’re sitting on my towel.”

Alfred stood up, handing me the towel like it was nothing.

Was he that into his work, or was he just not impressed? Either way, it was insulting. I stepped out of the tub, snatched the towel, and began to dry off in an indignant huff. Alfred walked toward the door. He turned and looked back at me before he left.

“Nice ass.”

I covered it before he had finished turning back around. He laughed softly, closed the door behind him, and left me to brood once again. That jackass, he’d been looking all along.

I sat down at the vanity and began drying my hair with another towel. I keep my hair in a short cut that requires little maintenance. It’s sort of a cross between a pixie and one of those flippy little bobs. It gives me a wild look that, being what I am, I could appreciate. I didn’t have to like it, but no point not having a sense of humor about things. Occasionally, laughter is the only thing that stands between us and a nervous breakdown.

I thought about seeing Marco outside the house that night. What was he doing there? I didn’t have the strength or the brain cells left to think about it at the moment. My mind kept wandering back to the way he looked standing there in the rain. I could still see the way his wet jeans clung to his every curve. His shirt open and clinging to his body. Whatever color his clothes had been, they were so wet that they appeared black, making the contrast of his skin seem pale.

I remembered water running down his hair and beading in his long eye lashes. In my mind’s eye, I traced a drop of rain as it slid down his forehead, down his face, his collarbone, around one nipple, and down the rigid curves of his abs, only to disappear in the line of soft hair at the top of his jeans. I wanted to follow that drop with my tongue. I wasn’t necessarily meaning to be kinky. Part of me just wanted to know what Marco tasted like. Even as I thought it, I could imagine the faint salty taste of his skin on my tongue, mixed with the overpowering scent of a man.

I shook my head. I was coming undone from watching a man standing in the rain and Alfred had barely noticed a naked woman right in front of him. I would never know how he managed it. Maybe his work was more interesting to him than sex. I opened my towel and gazed down at my body.

“Or,” I thought out loud, closing the towel, “maybe I’m just too horny to be a scientist.”

Letting my towel fall to the floor, I walked over to where my robe hung on a hook by the door. As I passed by the full length mirror, I paused. I had always loved this mirror. It was old, framed by dark elaborately carved wood. It had a sort of medieval appeal to it. Yes, I loved the mirror, even if I was not as fond of what I saw reflected in it. My bright red hair stood out at haphazard angles, sharply contrasting with my skin. I have a fair complexion, almost like alabaster. My muscle tone though not overly “cut” was plainly evident in my curves. For the most part I liked my body. I was attractive, even sexy by some standards. The image was only ruined by the scars, slashing their way across my lower abdomen. But, I can hear you thinking, werewolves don’t scar. That’s right, they don’t. I’m not a werewolf.

The scars are a remnant of my attack. There are several vicious slashes across the right side of my stomach, beginning level with my belly button, and extending to the front of my upper hip bone. Three diagonal cuts above my navel, and three cuts at an angle on the left side. That’s right, no bikinis for me.

I was fifteen when I was attacked. First I should explain I have lived here, on Earth, all of my life. My father was stationed in the Deep South, where I was born and raised. He had only recently been promoted to commander. My mother was out of town, visiting a friend. We were watching television when I heard the glass breaking. Werewolves stormed the house. The halls echoed with frightening blood thirsty howls. Apparently, we were not the only ones to learn of my father’s new appointment to commander. The werewolf resistance thought it would be a great show of power to cut down the new commander his first week in office. Having a chance to kill his only child, that was just a bonus.

“The closet,” he yelled as more glass broke, signaling the fact that we were being surrounded. The “closet” was more of a mini arsenal, and it was located at the back of that very room. He took out an AK-47 loaded with silver bullets and handed me the same. Before further plans could be made, we began firing at the werewolves charging through the living room door. We mowed them down like tall grass. He went for the heads, I went for the kneecaps.

I’d just emptied a clip and turned back for more ammunition when I was slammed to the floor. Not possessing the strength I now have, I was in trouble. Upon hitting the floor, I took a blow to the head and was nearly knocked unconscious. I was only vaguely aware of tearing pains in my lower abdomen. I looked down in time to see my father slaughter the monster tearing its way through my stomach with a large silver machete.

The world spun. One look at my savaged stomach told me I was on the verge of passing out from blood loss. I felt strong arms lifting me and heard for the first time, the sound of my father crying. The werewolves were dead, but at what price? I drifted in and out of consciousness. The next moment I was aware, voices were arguing over me.

“My daughter is not your guinea pig!” my father roared.

“This may be her only chance,” it was Alfred’s voice, pleading with my father. “Do you want to take a chance and maybe see your daughter turn? Or do you want to watch her die right now? Because that’s what is going to happen if we don’t act now!”

I felt a sharp pain in my arm. I was being given what I would later find out was supposed to be a cure for lycanthropy. Alfred had been one of a group of scientists given the task of creating a working vaccine, as well as an eventual cure. I was injected with the prototype. My memories of the next few days are blurred. I remember pain, terrible pain, and my father’s voice, though I’ve no idea what he was saying. When I opened my eyes days later, my dad was standing over my bed, looking like he hadn’t slept.

“What happened to me?” I asked.

He explained about the injection. “To be honest, we don’t know what will happen. You may or may not transform with the next full moon.” His hands shook as he reached for a glass of water on the nearby table. Apparently, thinking he couldn’t hold the glass steady enough to drink, he sat it back down. “There was no choice,” he began desperately. “I couldn’t lose you.” His voice broke. “It was either take a chance, or watch you die. Either way, it’s a decision I’ll have to live with the rest of my life ... I just couldn’t live with watching you die.” His eyes seemed to glaze over with tears. “Forgive me.”

I wasn’t sure what to say, or if I should say anything at all. Watching my father cry was not easy for me. Here was the strongest person I knew, and he was weeping for me, as if I were already dead. “It’s all right,” I began, feeling like an idiot. Of course it wasn’t all right. He’d just made a decision that for better or worse, had altered both our lives. I tried again, “You did what you had to do. Either way, I’ll live.”

His expression became determined, the last of the tears falling away as he looked back at me. “Yes, you will,” he said vehemently. “If you turn, those bastards won’t come near you. Any of them! If anyone, I don’t care from which side of this war comes for my daughter, they’ll have to kill me first.” I cried then. I knew my father loved me, but knowing he would turn traitor if he had to in order to save my life ... it moved me in a way three words could not.

I awaited the first full moon three days later in a holding cell in Alfred’s lab, then located underneath my parents’ house. My wounds had not yet healed. Alfred took this as a sign that perhaps I was not going to turn. Werewolves heal at an accelerated rate, due to their dramatically faster metabolism. I didn’t bother to tell him I had lost five pounds in the past few days. I thought it might discourage him.

The transformation of a werewolf is brought on by the pull of gravity from the moon, not the moonlight shining on them, in spite of popular belief. As the moon began to rise that evening, I was in increasingly more pain. It was as if something was trying to rip its way through my skin. I felt a warming sensation behind my eyes, similar to the feeling you get when running a high fever. Muscle spasms began to shake my body and I grabbed the bars of the cell. Alfred ran toward me, but kept his distance by a few feet. Someone was screaming, a high, angry sound. It was the most rage filled scream I’d ever heard. It belonged on a battlefield in a long ago place.

I collapsed several minutes later as the muscle spasms subsided. I looked up at the mangled bars in amazement. I was no longer in pain, but felt a sudden rush of weakness at seeing what I had done to the reinforced steel bars.

“How do you feel?”

I jumped. Alfred was sitting on the floor on the other side of the bars. He crawled tentatively toward me, as if afraid to come too near. The fear on his face hurt me worse than I could express. Who else would see me the same way? The one thing I was certain of was I did not want people looking at me like I was some kind of monster, or worse with pity.

“I’m fine,” I croaked, my voice barely audible. It was then I realized I was the one who’d been screaming. I felt like crying, but I would not let someone who looked at me like that see me cry.

“My eyes burn,” I said, looking to Alfred for an explanation.

He moved closer. His fear seemed to be replaced by curiosity. Alfred’s eyes widened. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, as if he were going to speak, but thought better of it. “Here,” he said, finally giving up on an explanation and handing me a mirror. I took the mirror from Alfred with trembling hands, determined not to scream at whatever I saw. I turned the mirror slowly to face me, my heart hammering in my chest. Looking back at me was a pair of amber wolf eyes. They looked wild and out of place with the rest of me. Under normal circumstances, my eyes are hazel. I looked at Alfred and he jumped back from the bars, cursing under his breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding embarrassed.

I chose to ignore his reaction. I supposed I was being too hard on him. I cannot begin to imagine my reaction if I saw someone I had known for the past five years looking at me with wolf eyes.

“Is this permanent?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

The next morning, once he was fairly certain any real danger had passed, Alfred released me from the cell and gave me a thorough examination. The wounds on my stomach had healed overnight. All that remained were faint pink scars.

“These may finish healing,” he’d said. He was wrong. The eyes were not permanent, but the scars were. However, they were the last scars I would ever receive. The only thing that can permanently scar a werewolf is silver, to which I appear to be immune. I’m technically not a werewolf. I don’t transform with the full moon, and after that night, it hasn’t caused me any more pain. My eyes only seemed to change when I got angry, but with years of practice, it’s something I can control. I occasionally use them to make my point in arguments with Alfred. Wicked, but effective.

Chapter Two

I pulled my black velvet robe from the nearby hook. Staring at my scars would not erase them. I didn’t bother closing the robe as I opened the door which connects to my bedroom. I closed the sheer drapes covering the French doors to the right of my bed, blocking out the view of the rose-covered balcony. The window on the opposite side of the room reaches from floor to ceiling, gracefully arching near the top. Sheer red drapes hung from above this window as well, and fell in silken folds down either side. They managed to block a surprising amount of sun. But right then I think I could have slept under any amount of light. I just wanted sleep, period.

I let the robe slide to the floor as I slipped between the red silk sheets. I remember taking a deep breath and must have fallen asleep before I could exhale. The next thing I remember was someone pounding on my door.

“Huh?” I grunted. I’m not sure what sort of response I expected, but the beating continued.

“What?” I tried again.

Alfred’s voice answered, “Elijah is downstairs.”

“So?”

“He’s got some questions.”

“Good for him.”

“Get up, Lilith.”

I didn’t respond for a few minutes, hoping he would just go away if I stayed quiet.

“You’ve been asleep for twelve hours, for God’s sake.”

That got my attention. I rolled toward the clock. He was right. Not that I thought a scientist couldn’t count, I just didn’t feel like I’d slept for twelve hours. I sat up slowly, afraid the room might spin if I moved faster. I collected my robe from the floor and tied the red silk sash as I crossed to the door. When I stepped into the hall, I found Alfred waiting patiently, arms crossed. I sighed, straightening my resolve along with my robe.

“Why the long face? I thought you liked the little cop.”

I glared at Alfred and he smiled. I had said once that Elijah was cute, and I’d been trying ever since to live it down. As I descended the stairs, I saw him waiting in the sitting room by the bay window, reading the paper. Elijah was cute. It was merely an observation, although I thought Alfred’s description of him being “little” was a bit harsh. Elijah is five-foot-six, but that is hardly an abnormality. He has dark blond hair, so dark it’s nearly brown, a ready smile, and big blue eyes. Elijah is only two years younger than me, but sometimes, it felt like centuries. There was a naivety in his smile that I envied, and a sparkle in his eyes no amount of bullshit ever seemed to diminish. For lack of a better word, he was innocent. I often wondered what he was doing in my house.

He was the only one of the local cops I could tolerate. Everyone else seemed fascinated by me, but it was in one of those, look at the lion in the cage sort of ways. I didn’t like feeling that I was an interesting “thing” on display. I’ve always found other’s reactions to me difficult to deal with.

Elijah smiled as I walked into the room. He reached to shake my hand. I hesitated, not out of rudeness, just surprise that anyone in town would shake my hand. I don’t like to touch people, but in some cases, I’ll make an exception. In addition to being half-animal, I am also strongly empathic. When I touch someone, I have the ability to feel what they feel, sometimes even see into their thoughts. I get bits and pieces of imagery from their feelings. Of course, I normally take measures to avoid this. There is much about the lives of others I simply don’t care to know. I’m sure there are nosy people out there who would be thrilled with this “talent,” but I have never been one of them. Most of the time, I was able to block it out. It’s something I can control. However, I often wear gloves when I hunt, or shake hands with new people, just to avoid the eventuality of seeing something I really don’t want to know.

I would have a harder time doing what I do if I read the mind of every werewolf I touched. I have enough on my mind without seeing other people’s lives flashing before me. I thought it was safe to shake Elijah’s hand. Like I said, he was innocent. I doubted whether there was anything behind those blue eyes disturbing enough to faze me. I took his hand, and to my surprise was able to offer him a genuine smile. I almost said good morning, but remembered it was afternoon.

“Have a seat.” I indicated the chair he had risen from.

“Thank you.”

He smiled nervously. Alfred stood propped against the stairs, his arms crossed in front of him, looking every bit like a bodyguard.

“I assume you didn’t stop by just because you enjoy my company.”

“Ah, no ... I was hoping you would be willing to share with me exactly what happened last night.”

“Where would you like me to start?”

“The beginning, I guess.” I would have thought anyone else was being a smartass, but he seemed too sincere. I recounted for him the story of the night before. I had received a call at eleven thirty, informing me there was “a disturbance that requires your attention” at one of the clubs in a nearby town. Normally, that means, “rogue werewolf.” It only took me fifteen minutes to get there.

“The Firestarter?” he asked.

“That’s right.”

When I arrived, I found a tall, dark woman standing in the parking lot in what I loosely described as red lingerie. Most of her outfit had been torn from her body and hung in shreds. Even from a distance, I could see the beginnings of the change taking place. The moon was not yet full. If a lycanthrope changes, in the absence of the full moon, there is normally severe trauma involved. From the gang of frightened men standing around, I was betting on an attempted rape.

I jumped from the car, checking my blades as I approached them. The parking lot was empty, except for five men standing frozen to the spot. They watched in horror as the beautiful dancer began to shed her skin. The bones of her face lengthened as her hands turned to claws. She threw back her head and howled with what could only be described as rage. I came to a stop between her and the gawking men, uncertain which I should be protecting.

I rounded on the men. “What happened here?”

“Monster,” one of them stuttered.

“ME, a monster!” an enraged deep voice growled. “They tried to rape me.” I turned to see her half-transformation. She was unmistakably a werewolf, though not fully changed. Most people don’t realize that when a werewolf is fully transformed, they don’t look like The Wolfman. They look like a giant wolf. In her half-wolf form, she was even taller. My guess would be close to seven feet, large, even for a female werewolf.

The men seemed to be recovering a bit. “What makes you think we’d want to touch her?” one of them spat. “We don’t do monsters.”

I didn’t have time to ask why it was they were not surprised to see a real live werewolf standing in a parking lot.

“And we don’t need no goddamned monster hunter to handle our business.”

The man who’d insulted me went for a gun. Before he could straighten his arm to fire, I’d removed my silver machete from its sheath, slicing through his wrist. It was the same weapon my father had used to save me years ago. It only seemed right that it should still protect me.

The man writhed on the ground, holding his bloody wrist and cursing me for all he was worth. The werewolf behind me let out a roar as the group surged toward us. My father taught me a long time ago that to hesitate is to die. “You must react without question, fight without mercy. Your attack should flow over your enemy, like water, drowning the mind, crushing the body.”

I took my father’s advice. I dropped to the ground and with one fluid motion cut the feet from beneath three of my would-be attackers. The one who’d tried to shoot me grabbed a stick in his remaining hand and charged. I kicked him in the face, skidding him across the gravel of the parking lot. Before he could attempt to use the stick again, I kicked it aside. With me standing over him, a machete aimed at his throat, he didn’t seem so tough.

“P-p-please,” he stuttered. “Don’t kill me.”

I hesitated.

In a rush of flying gravel, I landed flat on my back with the one-handed man, trying his best to strangle me. Without further hesitation, I placed the blade against his throat, jerking swiftly to the right. Arterial blood sprayed across my face, covering my hair. One good thing about lycanthropy, it protected you from contracting any other blood-borne diseases. I spat out the blood pouring across my lips and got to my feet. The other men were dead. Parts of them littered the parking lot in disgusting chunks.

The woman, human once more, sat in the midst of the gore, her hands covering her face, rocking back and forth. I walked over to her and she jumped at the sound of my boots crunching on the gravel.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

She began to moan softly, rocking faster and faster. I knelt in front of her, placing one hand on her shoulder. Before I could ask again, she looked up at me, her face streaked with tears, dark eyes glistening in the neon glow from the sign in the parking lot.

“Are you here to kill me?”

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Yes, I had been sent there to kill her. But, could I kill an unarmed woman who had only been defending herself? Technically, I was equipped for the job, but I didn’t have the heart. This was the part of the job I could do without. You come across some occasionally who will beg for their lives. Of course, they were just trying to kill you moments ago, but you’re not supposed to remember that. Do I still kill them? Yes. But, I don’t like it. There are some things you just don’t want to have to remember.

“No.” I finally answered. “I’m not going to kill you.”

She looked surprised. “But you’re Lilith Mercury. They say to see you is to see Death.”

I felt like shit. Here was a woman who had been fighting for her life and was fully expecting me to kill her for it.

“What will happen to me?” she asked.

“Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m just ... shaken.”

“Then I suggest you go home.”

She looked around wide eyed at the bodies littering the ground.

“I’ll take care of this.”

Seeming somewhat reassured, she gave me a shaky smile and walked to one of the nearby cars. “Thank you,” she whispered before getting in the car and driving away.

I sat there for a minute and cried.

Of course, this was not the version of events I told Elijah. Fortunately, it turned out one of the men was a werewolf, the friend of Marco’s I had recognized. He was the one who’d turned up at my house that night, and the only one missing from the pile of gore in the parking lot. I told Elijah he had instigated the attack on the woman and I defended her when they chose to attack.

“They were torn apart,” he said, disbelieving.

I had left out the part about the woman finishing them off.

“Fine,” he said, when I offered no further explanation. “Fine,” he repeated. “I just don’t know how much longer we can cover this up. We’re writing it up as an animal attack.” He ran his fingers through his hair in irritation. “Do you know how many ‘animal attacks’ this county has?”

“What do you suggest, Officer Jasper? Tell the public there are werewolves among them? We’d have a riot on our hands.” Alfred couldn’t be quiet any longer.

Elijah seemed to consider this for a moment, as if it had been a real suggestion. “No,” he said finally. He laughed half-heartedly. “The south is full of enough prejudice without the general public knowing there are werewolves on the loose. That’s an entirely new species they could set on fire.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. He was right. Never underestimate the stupidity of other people. Alfred looked at me like I’d lost my mind. After Elijah left, not satisfied, but not getting any more answers, Alfred turned to me.

“What are you not telling me?”

“What do you want to hear? That I wasn’t going to kill an innocent woman for defending herself? She wasn’t part of a resistance group. She was being attacked!”

“How do you know? Did you ask her?”

My patience had reached its limit. “No, Alfred, I didn’t ask her. But I can tell you this, if someone tried to rape me, they damn sure better kill me, or I’m gonna kill them. I would rip them limb from limb, just like she did, for daring to touch me!”

He put his hand on my shoulder and I snatched away as I said, “And I’d enjoy it.”

*****

I walked down to the kitchen that evening, after I’d cooled off a bit, wondering what sort of mood Alfred would be in. I’d made a second report to my father just after talking, all right, after screaming, at Alfred. Considering my father comes from a planet that believes in eye for an eye justice, he had no problem with my actions. Elijah was a different story, but I liked him. He had never looked at me like I was a monster.

The systems of government on planet Terra are vastly different from that of Earth. There has been only one world war, even though they are far more technologically advanced. This might be due in part to the fact that remnants of the war have remained in play for thousands of years. There are no courts or juries on Terra. They have what are known as judges. These individuals have the ability to touch someone and tell whether or not they have committed a crime. They are clairvoyant to the extent that if the person is guilty, they may even see images of the crime upon touching them.

The judges are never told what the person has been accused of. They merely tell what they see. If you are innocent, they will know. Most people confess. After all, there is no lying to a judge, and there’s no telling what else they might see. The judges are periodically brought before the Wizard Council to see if for any reason they have been lying about what they’ve seen. Punishments are fairly stiff on planet Terra. To lie about the guilt of another is a crime punishable by death. It’s easier to carry out the sentence if you know for certain the accused is guilty. At least, that’s the theory.

The smell of coffee greeted me as I crossed the foyer. When I entered the kitchen, I found Alfred standing at the counter. Without asking he took out my favorite mug and poured me some coffee. He turned around, handed me the deep purple mug, and sat down. Feeling awkward after the way I had spoken to him, I sat down, not knowing what to say.

“Alfred—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted. “Just don’t. You can’t kill someone for self-defense. Let’s not argue over this. There are bigger issues.”

“Such as?”

“Such as, Elijah is right. These so called animal attacks are getting harder to pass off as truth. People have seen things they can’t explain; they’re just not buying it anymore.”

“You were serious today when you suggested making, what, some sort of public statement?”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far, but something needs to be done. It’s not just political extremists we’re dealing with. There are innocent people at stake.” He waved his hand absently toward me. “You saw that yourself. People are being infected at a growing rate and the fact is they’re not the bad guys just because they’re lycanthropes.”

“You’re right. I’ve thought so for years now.” I took a sip of my coffee, relieved he wasn’t going to yell at me, but I wasn’t entirely sure I preferred this conversation to being yelled at. “A lot of the people that escaped to this planet in the first place were innocent. It wasn’t their fault the city they lived in was a target area.”

“To the first Hunter, that didn’t matter, though.”

“So I’ve heard, but we’re all over now. Why did they send just one? In the beginning, I mean. That just doesn’t make much sense to me.”

He sighed. “It wasn’t supposed to be this big of a problem. They thought he could handle it.”

“What made them think one man could handle a viral outbreak that turns people into wolves? Who did he think he was, God?”

Alfred laughed, but he didn’t really sound amused. “No, but the guy who messed with his DNA did.”

“What do you mean, ‘messed’ with?”

Alfred told me what he knew about the first Hunter sent to Earth. His name has long since been erased from the record books, but his story is legend. He was part of the original group of Hunters formed to control the virus on planet Terra. Shortly after the first year of infection, his family was killed by werewolves. All of them. This was around the time people were escaping to Earth in order to avoid execution. He volunteered to be part of an experiment to become the “ultimate Hunter,” a weapon against the werewolves.

He was injected with a synthetic twenty-fourth pair of chromosomes. These chromosomes would, in theory, make him super human. He would have superior night vision in order to hunt more effectively at night, when most of the werewolves were active. His strength would rival that of the monsters themselves. This individual was also rumored to have been blessed with many psychic abilities, as well as descended from wizards.

The Terran people naturally age slower than people on Earth. Telomeres, the ends of chromosomes, are known as the “molecular clock” of the cell. Cell division is directly affected by telomere length. After each cell division, telomeres get shorter. To explain the significance of this as quickly as possible, the Terran people have exceptionally long telomeres. This slows the aging process significantly. As an unexpected side effect of the introduction of the twenty-fourth chromosome pair into his system, this “super Hunter,” had his aging process slowed even further, with the potential to even outlive wizards, whose life spans are close to one thousand years.

“You never know how much to believe,” Alfred finished.

“Whatever happened to him? Was he killed?”

“Killed? No. He just disappeared, sometime around the middle ages, I believe. Heard he lost his mind.”

“Was that a side effect also? Insanity?”

Alfred laughed. “Honey, insanity is a side effect of life. If you live long enough, something is bound to drive you crazy.”

I couldn’t argue there. I sighed, absently stirring my coffee with the tip of my finger.

“In spite of the obvious reasons to not look happy, I’m going to ask the stupid question. What’s wrong?” Alfred said.

I didn’t know where to begin. My thoughts had drifted to a subject that had nothing to do with anything we had been talking about. I was thinking about my most recent failed relationship. Yes, I did have a life outside of being a Hunter. I’d just put it on hold for the past couple of months.

I’d been dating a Hunter working in a neighboring state who happened to fit my ideal: tall, dark, and handsome. Alfred joked with me that my ideal comes closer to tall, dark, and creepy. He’s right. The point is I dated this man for three and a half years, thinking I knew him. Turns out, the bastard was married all along. I had suspected as much. But, somewhere along the way, I realized I loved him, despite my better judgment. I wanted desperately to believe the lies he told me. Sometimes, we think we’ve found something. We want so desperately to believe it’s true, despite what our eyes might see. I longed for somewhere in someone’s embrace that felt like home. It wasn’t the first time I’d been hurt, and if I lived longer, it would not be the last. But that didn’t make his betrayal any less devastating.

To make matters worse, when he’d realized I’d found out the truth, he ran. I found out through a mutual friend that he was planning to leave the country, without so much as a goodbye. You tell your friends goodbye, you tell your family goodbye. How could he just walk away like I was nothing? So, I dumped him before he got the chance. I disappeared from his life, just like he had been planning to do to me. A few months later, I heard he had moved. That should have given him plenty of time to figure out he’d been dumped.

I’d never found it easy to trust people, but I’d taken a chance. I had so much going on inside of me, so much going on outside, I hadn’t taken the time to ... grieve. Since he turned out to be someone entirely different than I thought he was, I hadn’t lost him. I had lost my ideal. I would always love the man I thought he was, and always be disappointed in who he turned out to be.

“I asked you a question,” Alfred softly insisted.

Alfred was one of the few people who knew what had happened. We lived together for crying out loud. I had to talk to somebody. When I didn’t answer, he moved into the chair next to me. When he went to touch me, I backed away.

“Don’t. Please, don’t. If you touch me, I’ll cry, and I really don’t want to cry right now. I’ve got other things that I should be thinking about, other things I should be doing—”

“Shh.”

Alfred and I didn’t have much physical contact, for obvious reasons. I didn’t think it was polite to accidentally read your friend’s emotions. I felt that in not touching him, I was allowing him more privacy. I was surprised when he reached over and held me. Then, I did something I hadn’t allowed myself to do for the past two months: I cried without trying to control myself. I cried, like the world was ending, because to me, it was. I mourned for the part of me that had been lost when I realized you really couldn’t trust people.

We’d known each other a long time, and I was comfortable with Alfred, but I usually didn’t let him see that side of me. I didn’t let anyone see that side of me. When I’d cried the day before after rescuing the woman in the parking lot, I’d been shocked. That wasn’t like me. I cried, just not often, and not in front of people. I cried when I watched a really good movie, or when I went to the opera. But now, it was like a flood gate had opened somewhere inside of me and I didn’t seem capable of shutting it off.

I crawled onto Alfred’s lap, wrapped my arms around his neck and cried until I was most likely dehydrated. I was too caught up in my own turmoil to read what Alfred felt. Besides that takes direct contact with my hands, skin on skin. He held me as if I was falling apart and he was trying to keep the pieces together. When I finally pulled back from his shoulder, his lab coat, which he was seldom without, was soaked. I opened my mouth to explain, or at least apologize, but he stopped me with that charming half smile of his.

“Why must you insist on dating assholes who make you lose faith in all mankind?”

I laughed. “How did you know?”

“I really didn’t think you felt that strongly about genetic engineering.”

I laughed harder, and it felt good. I realized awkwardly that I was still sitting on Alfred’s lap. He didn’t object to me being there, but he also didn’t object when I slid back onto my chair.

He got up and refreshed my coffee for me. “You want some chocolate?”

I smiled. “What makes you think I need chocolate?”

“Well, I was going to have some, and I didn’t want to be rude.”

Since he was nice enough not to mention the fact that I’d just had a minor breakdown on his lap, I decided to have some chocolate with him, and I felt better.

Chapter Three

Several days passed and my mind kept drifting back to my most recent pain in the ass. Yes, he had broken my heart, but the pain seemed to be lodged a bit lower. So, I did what I often do when I feel like shit, I gardened. I got some tools from the shed behind the house and started with trimming my roses. My yard overflows with roses. There is a trellis over the gravel driveway out front, completely overgrown by a thornless climbing Queen Anne. It’s a fragrant old English rose which hangs in clusters of tiny white blooms. There are many other roses scattered throughout the woods, but my favorite rose grows on the balcony. I made my way around to the side of the house, kneeling beside the roots of the climbing Don Juan.

When I’d moved into the house seven years ago, I had the bright idea of planting the Don Juan underneath the balcony. Not only is it a dramatically beautiful climbing rose, but it is symbolic to me for two reasons. First, my favorite poem of all time is Robert Burns, My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose. Second, Don Juan was famous for entering his lover’s apartments through their balcony windows.

As I sat daydreaming of romance that had somehow passed me by, I found myself suddenly sitting in a large shade. I looked up and found Alfred standing over me. He sat down beside me and looked up at the rose, propping on his elbows to lean back on the grass.

“I see you’re still waiting for Don Juan to climb through your balcony window,” he said with a smirk.

I shook my head, smiling. “I should never have told you why I planted this rose.”

He laughed. “Melodramatic, don’t you think?”

“A little,” I admitted. “But, great romance and great melodrama often go hand in hand.”

“Sometimes I forget you’re a poet,” he said.

I’ve had several poems published in different anthologies. I thought of having them published under a different name, but decided against it. Most of the people who know my name, do not read poetry. There’s nothing wrong with being a romantic at heart. I’m just not fond of the idea of everyone knowing I have a heart. It could always be used against me.

“If I didn’t have a creative outlet, I’d probably go crazy,” I said. “Besides, I like to write.”

“And paint, and sketch, and dance—”

“There’s nothing wrong with being well rounded,” I insisted.

Alfred laughed. “Yeah, but most of my family’s idea of a hobby is becoming well round.”

Alfred is Italian. His father was a Hunter, stationed in Italy years ago, where he met his mother. They’re both in their seventies and as far as I know, doing well. We sat under the roses and laughed while he talked about his fat aunt who had personal “issues” too numerous to name, though he mentioned a few. And his psychotic cousin, who was at last report doing drag shows in London.

“But you’re cousin, Antonio, he’s not gay. Is he?”

“No,” he laughed. “It was the only job he could find that didn’t require a criminal background check.” Alfred had laughed to the point of tears. “He has the nerve to be offended when someone comes on to him. I told him, you can’t be homophobic and work in a gay bar!”

I laughed. “I didn’t realize he was homophobic.”

“And I didn’t realize how long it had been since you’d smiled, you should do it more often.” He made a dramatic bow, which looked funny considering he was still sitting down. “If talking about my dysfunctional relatives helps you, then I’m more than happy to oblige.”

“How is it you know what I needed?”

“Questa non e la mia prema volta,” he whispered. I knew enough Italian to interpret, “This is not my first time.”

I smiled. “Are you coming on to me?”

Alfred’s smile grew wider, and if possible more mischievous. “If I were coming on to you, you wouldn’t have to ask. I’m just trying to cheer you up.”

I could feel my expression changing again. I didn’t realize how miserable I’d been a few minutes ago, until he reminded me.

“Oh God, don’t give me that face.”

“What face? I wasn’t giving any face.”

“That face,” he pointed at me. “I know that pitiful face. Have you seen Kathryn lately?”

“No, but what’s Kat got to do with my face?”

“Maybe she could help keep a smile on it. Call her, go out, do something. You’re twenty-four, for God’s sake. You shouldn’t look this pitiful.”

“I’m busy.”

“Liar. There’s nothing we can do about anything that’s going on in the world right now. We cannot change anything politically relating to werewolves. Someone with more authority than us has to make that decision.” He took a breath. “Furthermore, the world will not end if you take some time off.”

“You never go out.”

“I’m busy.” He smiled.

“Asshole.” I got to my feet.

“Well—” Alfred stood up, towering over me. “Opinions are a lot like assholes, everybody has one.”

*****

I called Kathryn later that day and we made plans to go clubbing and stay out of town one night that weekend, since all the decent clubs were at least two hours away. She agreed with Alfred. “It’ll do you good.”

I’d met Kat four years ago, shortly after rescuing her then boyfriend from a pack of werewolves. We’d been friends ever since. Kat is six years older than me and a few inches taller. The first time I saw her, I knew her relationship with the man I’d saved would never last. Kathryn is an attractive, slender brunette, with wavy shoulder-length hair, dark eyes, and fair skin. She was way out of his league.

While packing my bags Friday afternoon, I kept remembering the odd dreams I’d been having. I hadn’t mentioned them to Alfred. I felt like I’d dumped enough of my personal baggage on him lately. However, I planned to tell Kat as soon as she picked me up. I’d had the same dream twice, so I thought I should pay attention to it. There was more than one reason I’d accepted my friends’ advice. In the dream, I was going out, and Kat was with me. We were in a club I’d never seen before, in a place that was not familiar to me ... and there was a man. I knew him in my dream, though, for the life of me, I could not remember him when I woke up. The more I concentrated on seeing his face, the cloudier the image became.

When Kat arrived, I threw my bag in the back of her SUV.

“You’re only taking one bag?” She looked like I’d just committed a crime in broad daylight.

“Why? How many are you taking?”

It had been a stupid question. I looked at the many color coordinated cases beside my own simple black leather bag and gave her a questioning look.

“Well, one is just shoes,” she said, as if that explained everything.

“We’re only staying one night.”

“I couldn’t make up my mind!” She laughed.

“Let me say goodbye to Alfred. He’s probably forgotten I won’t be here tonight. Most likely would have called in a search party before he remembered.”

She laughed, shaking her head as I went back in the house. I found Alfred walking down the stairs, looking confused. “There you are. I was just looking for you. I meant to tell you, Kathryn called, she’s running late.”

I smiled. “She’s already here, Al.”

“Oh. Well, I guess that explains why you weren’t upstairs.”

I laughed as I reached to hug him. Like I said, Alfred and I didn’t have much physical contact, I just felt like hugging him. He had been a comfort to me over the past few days, and I appreciated him.

He smiled at me. “Well, I feel special.”

“You should. I’ll be back some time tomorrow.”

“Try to relax, have fun. The world won’t stop if you forget to be miserable for a few hours.”

“Is that advice or doctor’s orders?”

“Doctor’s orders,” he said with a wink.

As I was buckling my seat belt, Kathryn looked at me and shook her head, tut-tut ting me under her breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

She took a deep breath. “I don’t understand why you’re still broken up over some loser when you’re living with a hot Italian.” Kat giggled at the expression on my face.

“Alfred?”

“Yeah, Alfred. You’ve known him for what, fourteen years now, and you never noticed the man is sexy?”

I shrugged. “I just don’t think of Alfred that way.”

She was so busy giving me “the look” that she nearly missed her turn. Once we were safely on the right road, in the right lane, she said, “Well, maybe you should.”

“Should what?”

“Stop being difficult! You know damn well what I mean. I just can’t believe that a hopeless romantic, a poet for Pete’s sake, and an Italian, who are notoriously romantic, have been living in the same house for seven years now, alone, and they’re not getting in it on.”

My jaw dropped. “I think I’ve been a bad influence on you,” I said.

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“When I suggested that you listen to some more R&B—”

“Stop avoiding the subject. You’ve noticed, or it wouldn’t be so difficult for you to talk about.”

The “subject” was beginning to wear thin on my nerves. “It is not difficult for me to talk about. I just have nothing to say, that’s all.”

Kat looked like she didn’t believe me, but figured she wouldn’t get any further. “Whatever you say. You know, in some cultures, sex is considered therapeutic.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “It is not.”

“Sure it is.”

“Where?”

She snickered. “I’ll think of somewhere. Personally, I’d use any excuse to get into the good Doctor’s pants.”

“Kathryn!”

“What? It’s all your fault. I was a normal, upstanding citizen before I met you.”

“Liar.”

“No, really, I was. I would never have said something like that four years ago. I might have thought it, but then again, you’ve influenced my thoughts, too, I think.”

“You think I’ve influenced your thoughts? Bit redundant, don’t you think?”

“Give me a break. I’m trying to concentrate on not running into a ditch.”

“No. I believe you were concentrating on getting into Alfred’s pants.”

“Oh, not for me. I was concentrating on getting you into Alfred’s pants.”

I admitted to myself that Alfred was handsome, and I had noticed. But I honestly had never thought of him intimately before. I could have slapped Kat for putting thoughts into my head that did not need to be there. Alfred was my friend. He’d worked with my father. I could not be attracted to him. It would complicate things I didn’t need complicated. My life was messed up enough as it was. After a few minutes, I came up with an excuse I thought would get Kathryn off my back.

“He’s too old for me, even if I did find him attractive.”

“No. What is he? Thirty-six, maybe?”

“He’s fifty.”

I enjoyed the look of utter disbelief on her face, raising my eyebrows as if to say, “See, I was right.”

“I knew you guys lived longer, but damn. I had no idea. He looks thirty something.” She pressed on, undeterred. “Oh well, what’s the expression, ‘age ain’t nothin’ but a number?’”

I laughed. “You’re sick.”

“Possibly.”

“This is off the subject, but I want to ask your opinion about something.”

I told her about the strange dream I’d been having, doing my best to not leave out any detail.

“And there was a man there?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“But you didn’t know him?”

“I knew him in my dream. I just can’t remember his face once I wake up.”

“You know what this sounds like?” she said, grinning wickedly.

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“You need to get laid.”

I burst out laughing. “Oh my God, you’ve got issues.”

“Maybe, but I know hormones in overdrive when I see them.”

“I know a pervert when I see one, too.”

“Takes one to know one.”

I decided to not argue the fact. When it came to extracurricular thoughts, my mind wasn’t in the gutter, it was the gutter.

*****

While we were getting dressed that evening, Kat took the opportunity to pick on me further for my eccentricities. She wore a short black dress and sensible low heels, not too dressy, not too casual. She’d fit in most anywhere.

My outfit on the other hand was different. If I was going to go out, I wanted to be able to be myself. I wore tight, low-cut leather pants, combat boots with a heel, and a slinky black shirt that was open only enough to reveal my spine from the bra line down. I’d been careful, as always, to cover my scars. There were some things I just didn’t feel like explaining. The only color I wore was my red hair and silver belt buckle. I felt more confident in black. The leather was just a fetish of mine.

I suppose Alfred had thought Kat would be responsible and keep an eye on me. Yeah, right. We went to a few places. Mostly, Kat drank a lot and watched me dance. I love to dance. It’s such an incredible stress reliever. There are some times when stress just calls for physical activity. I’d worked out so vigorously over the past few months that I’d lost ten pounds. But, I was sick of making my punching bag suffer defeat, or slicing and dicing my poor steel dummy in the training room. I needed to do something less violent to calm my nerves. I needed to dance.

It was very late, or very early, depending on how you want to look at it, when we arrived at the last stop of the night. This club was unusual, to say the least. Three bold letters splashed above the door in massive blood colored brushstrokes said, Red. The moment I saw it, I knew this was the place from my dream, and somewhere inside was the man I’d been dreaming about.

The inside of the place was dark, with occasional flashes of strobe lights illuminating a path through the crowd of sweaty, gyrating bodies. When I say the music pumped, I’m not using a figure of speech. You could feel the rhythm in your chest, like a heartbeat. Like really good sex, the pounding music rattled your teeth. The whole room pulsated with an energy I couldn’t describe. It excited me.

In the time we were there a variety of music was played and a variety of people were on the dance floor. Some who could dance, others so drunk they thought they could. Kat made her way over to what may have been a stage, but it looked more like an elevated part of the dance floor. She sat at a table there to enjoy watching some drunken guys trying to dance.

“Free entertainment,” she yelled, pointing at the staggering group.

I yelled back that I’d be at the bar for a while and made my way back through the crowd. I sat on one of the tall leather barstools and ordered a cola and rum. Unfortunately for me, it took a great deal of alcohol to get me drunk and right then I wanted nothing more than to lose myself in the wonderful haze of intoxication. I metabolize alcohol at such a fast rate that I can get a buzz, sit down to watch a movie, and be completely sober halfway through. Kat saw my high metabolism as a gift from God, until I told her how fast I burned off alcohol.

“No one could ever take advantage of you,” she’d teased, looking scandalized.

I tried explaining to her there are ways of intoxicating the senses besides alcohol. She’d grinned and said, “Yeah, but I haven’t had sex that good in a while.” That wasn’t exactly what I’d meant, but I thought explaining would have been a waste of time.

I stayed at the bar for at least twenty minutes, eventually downing straight shots of rum. The whole time I was there, I sensed someone watching me. I put down my tenth empty shot glass and focused for a moment on the eyes that I could feel on my back. Even through the haze I’d managed to accomplish I knew a werewolf when I sensed one. My heart fluttered, my pulse quickened, and I was suddenly short of breath. It was almost like being aroused.

Someone leaned over me just as there was a brief pause in the music and whispered against my right ear, “Would you like to dance?” His scent was thrilling. He smelled clean, like soap mingled with aftershave, and underneath it all, there was the undeniable scent of a man. I turned enough to see Marco Barak.

“Hello, Red.” He smiled.

I wondered if he’d been waiting until I got drunk enough to accept his offer. I hesitated for a moment, just looking at him. I might have to kill this man one day. But that night, I wanted to dance. I took his hand and led him onto the dance floor through the crowd, and onto the raised platform in front of Kat’s table. We danced for what felt like hours. I suppose you could have called our dancing foreplay. I know many women consider dancing a metaphor for sex. If that’s true, then my God, this man danced well.

Time stood still as we moved together. The touch of his body against mine sent fire through my veins, like small jolts of electric sensuality. I was vaguely aware that Kat had taken out her camera and was snapping pictures between the flashing lights. The room seemed to freeze with each flash, giving me unforgettable mental images. Marco wore black leather pants and a matching shirt that felt smooth to the touch. We looked as if we’d dressed to match.

His hair that I remembered as a dusty brown had darkened over the years. Through the rain a few weeks ago, I couldn’t tell. After all, everything is darker when it’s wet. But, his eyes were the same deep chocolate brown I remembered. I noticed a light stubble on his chin, as if he’d forgotten to shave, and the beginnings of side burns. Have I mentioned how fond I am of men who look like they’ve been roughed up a little?

He pulled me close and asked, “What are you thinking?”

“That you’re a good dancer.” I paused, looking him up and down. “It’s difficult to find a man with such ... rhythm.” I looked into his dark eyes and saw a passion which could only be described as hunger.

“I was seriously considering asking you to leave with me,” he confessed.

“I was considering doing just that.”

He didn’t seem as surprised as I’d expected. “Are you here with someone?”

“A friend.”

“Are you attached to someone in any way?”

“Yes,” I lied. “Are you?”

“Yes, but I’m beginning to regret my choices,” he answered.

He pulled me near, as if to kiss me. Stopping just short of contact, he breathed against my lips, “Let’s get out of here.”

“Let me tell my friend I’m leaving. She’s really drunk and is going to need a cab,” I explained.

“Does she know me?” he asked.

“Yeah, she knows who you are.”

He paused, as if trying to figure out how to word his question. “I mean, does she know—”

“What you are?” I interrupted.

He nodded.

“Yes. She does,” I said simply.

“Will she tell on you?” he asked.

“No.”

Stepping down from the platform, I walked to Kathryn’s table and tried to explain that I was leaving with Marco. She was very drunk and couldn’t seem to grasp what I was saying. I handed her some money. “You go back to the hotel, don’t take anyone with you, and lock the door. Understand?” She nodded, but still had a blank look on her face.

“But isn’t he—?”

“Yes,” I interrupted, “He is.”

She looked around me at Marco. It was obvious what she was thinking. She looked him up and down like he was on a buffet and she was starving. “Oh. All right then.” I gave her a look that said this was not up for discussion. “How long will you be?” she asked.

I glanced back to Marco waiting patiently and let my eyes roam over all of the places I’d like to put my hands. “This might take a while,” I answered.

We made our way back through the crowd and stepped out onto the sidewalk. I followed him to his car. We arrived at his hotel and wasted no time getting to his room. There was a straight backed chair in the corner which looked perfect for what I had in mind. I stood the chair in the middle of the room and indicated that he should have a seat. Marco looked very pleased with the way the evening was turning out. I pressed him back into the chair as I straddled his waist. The sound of our leather pants creaking together turned me on.

“I’m not really into one night stands,” I said.

“I was planning to keep in touch.”

“Why bother? You’re already having me followed.”

“You can’t pretend not to feel what I felt when we danced.” He paused. “And I’m not talking about a hard on. Say what you will, but we’ll never be here again ... this exact place, with this precise opportunity.”

“So, you’d like to screw my brains out, then get to know me?”

“Something like that.”

I could no longer control my urge to touch him. I ran my hands along the taut muscles of his arms as I kissed him. His skin felt hot, almost fevered beneath my touch. I could feel his hands on my thighs, caressing me through the leather. I ran my hands underneath the short sleeves of his shirt so I could grip his shoulders. Ever so gently, I ground my hips against him. He growled in response, a deep, primitive sound. What I felt for Marco was raw, animal.

“Fuck,” I whispered as I drew back.

“I was getting to that,” he said.

I got up and walked over to the small purse I’d carried with me that evening and took out two sets of handcuffs. I saw the surprised smile on his face as I turned around. One set of cuffs was connected by a long chain. Marco sat quietly as I cuffed his legs together, and cuffed his hands through the bars on the back of the chair. Once I’d sufficiently subdued him, I took a seat, again straddling his lap.

“Did you try to have me killed?” I asked.

He didn’t seem to immediately follow the change in subject.

“Huh?” He struggled briefly. “These cuffs are silver.” He looked angry.

“Yes, they are, very observant of you.”

“Do you always carry silver handcuffs in your purse?” he growled.

Leaning into him, I decided to take a page from Alfred’s book as I whispered, “This is not my first time.” To my surprise, he laughed. He was trying to appear calm, but I knew better. I wasn’t sure how much he knew about me or my psychic ability. However, there were things I could sense that had nothing to do with my mind, and everything to do with the body of the man I was sitting on.

I brushed my face against his, like a cat, enjoying the way his stubble felt against my cheek. “Mmmm,” I purred, “You smell good.”

“What do you want?” he said, swallowing hard.

“I want what every woman wants, a man you can trust.”

I wasn’t lying when I said Marco smelled good. Oh, this was beyond good, it was downright appetizing. Continuing to rub my cheek against him, I pressed my lips to the soft skin just beneath his earlobe, placing my nose near his hair line. I wanted to remember his scent. I could feel his pulse beating faster beneath my lips as I moved in a trail of kisses, down to the curve of his collar bone.

“If we’re going to do this, the least you can do is let me use my hands,” he said as he struggled against the cuffs.

“Oh, we’re not doing anything. I’m going to ask you a few questions, and you’re going to give me what I want.”

“Which is?”

“Answers, Marco. I want answers.”

“Suppose I don’t.”

“Then I’ll be forced to kill you,” I said as I licked across the pulse in his throat.

Much to my delight, he gasped before answering, “You’d kill me, but you touch me like this? I don’t think so.”

I pulled back to look into his eyes and found them to be a rather unfocused werewolf amber. It should have frightened me, I suppose, but I thought it was sexy as hell. Moving forward, as if to kiss him, I hovered just above his lips. “Please, don’t suffer delusions, Marco,” I whispered seductively. “Just because I like to play with my food, doesn’t mean that I won’t eat it.” I sighed and watched as it made him shiver. “Now, I believe you were about to tell me why you tried to have me killed?”

“I didn’t.”

“Are you trying to tell me that Simon is no longer your lap wolf?”

“Simon?”

“Yes, Simon. I’m certain it was him I stabbed through the neck a few nights ago in my backyard. But then again, you guys all look alike to me.”

“What did you stab him with?”

“A shepherd’s hook,” I said, mater-of-factly. “Now, back to the subject. What’s going on?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I followed Simon to your house. I arrived just in time to see your big buddy dragging the body through the back door.”

“Why did you follow him? Did you want to watch him kill me?”

“I told you,” he panted. “It wasn’t me.”

“Who was it then, Marco? It’s getting late and I’m too tired to play these games.” I felt him stiffen. “What’s the matter? Have I hit a nerve? Losing control of your lackeys these days?” I toyed absently with his hair, my eyes never wavering from his.

“Bade,” he said.

“Bade Garren? Hmm, you’re right hand man.” I caressed the front of his tight leather pants as I said, “I assume he stays busy?”

He made a noise closer to a bark than a laugh. “I could answer your questions better if you didn’t torture me like this.”

“Oh, I’m sure you could answer them better, but no doubt less truthfully. I wouldn’t want to give you time to think up a suitable lie.” I looked at him then and felt the familiar burning sensation behind my eyes, letting me know they were bleeding to amber. “Don’t make me take what I want from you, Marco.” He looked a question at me. I knew then he had no idea of the true extent of my abilities.

“That’s right,” I whispered. “I can read your mind if I have to.” I didn’t bother to elaborate that it was only his emotions I could read. Only if those emotions were strong enough could I get any images from them. He looked terrified as I ran my hands up the sides of his neck, and through his hair, coming to rest on either side of his head.

“Wait. I’ll tell you, if you’ll take my word.”

I let my hands slide back down his neck and shoulders, leaning forward as I did so.

“I’m listening.”

He gave me the rundown of goings on in the werewolf world. It seems he had been trying to convince his fellow werewolves that I was not their enemy, that their enemy was a government who didn’t recognize them as people anymore. “Our rights have been stripped away, for reasons beyond our control,” he continued. “Bade disagrees.” A look of unmistakable disgust passed over his face when he mentioned Bade. “He thinks we’re all animals, wants to form packs, like dogs. I’ll admit, we’re not exactly ‘human’ anymore, but we are still people.”

I was surprised. “But, what about Simon? I’m pretty sure he had something to do with a group of men who attacked a woman at The Firestarter recently.”

“Yes, I know. And then you killed him.”

“I had no choice.”

“I was going to offer you my congratulations.”

“Really? What was Simon doing running with a bunch of ordinary humans? They were ordinary humans?”

“Yeah, they were human, but I don’t know how ordinary you’d consider them. They were a bunch of Bade’s followers. They take orders from him, in the hopes that he will turn them.”

“Werewolf wannabes?” I couldn’t control my look of shock.

“For lack of a better word, yeah.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me? Why would anyone want to do this to themselves deliberately?”

“I wouldn’t deliberately choose what happened to me. But you, I think you overlook the gift you have.”

“Gift?”

“Hear me out,” he interrupted. “You have the strength and the heightened senses of the wolf, without being forced to take its form. You’re super human, even if it was by accident. I think Garren may be trying to somehow replicate what happened to you. You got to keep the power, the beauty, without taking on the beast.”

I laughed bitterly as I slid from Marco’s lap, turning my back to him. My fists clinched, nails digging painfully into my palms. I could feel my pulse racing, rage coursed through my veins like a living thing. I growled, a sound that was no longer human, as I snatched off my shirt.

“No, Marco, I don’t have to take on the beast,” I said, my back still turned. “I am the beast,” I roared. I turned to him and revealed not only my scars, but the way my muscles rippled beneath my skin when I flexed. My nails grew into razors that extended from my hands, and my eyes, burned wolf amber. “I can do this at will,” I said, flexing my horrible claws as I held them before his face. “And you call this a gift?” I began to pace in front of his chair.

“You know, I could never stop monster hunting, BECAUSE I FIND ONE WHEN I WAKE UP EVERY MORNING! You’re right, I don’t transform with the full moon. This is as scary as it gets, and the only people to have ever seen this much before are dead. This is not a gift, Marco. It’s a curse. I don’t fit in either world. I’m not one of you, but I’m not one of them either. You think I’m super human, but most of your kind thinks of me as either Death, or an abomination. Everyone else, if they knew ... would think of me as a monster.”

I retracted my claws, picked up my shirt, and took the keys to the cuffs from my pocket. He said nothing while I released him and put the cuffs back in my purse. I turned to leave and before I could blink, he slammed me against the wall, holding me in place with his body.

“You think I’m going to just let you leave?”

“Yeah, I do.”

One long claw began to grow from the nail of his index finger as he stroked it gently across my throat. I did not respond. “You know, among my kind as you so colorfully put it, only the very powerful, the ones who’ve been wolf the longest can do what you just did. It takes years to learn to control the change. I can change at will now also, but on the full moon, I am forced to shift.” He seemed to consider something as he held me there. “Could you really read my mind, or were you just bluffing?”

“I never bluff.”

“When did that happen? I don’t know any werewolves who gained psychic powers when they turned.”

I gave him my most blank uninterested look. “I was born with it.”

He pressed against me enough that I could tell he was happy to be there. When I didn’t respond, he retracted his claw and took a step back. I slumped forward without his weight pressing against me. “You’re no fun, Red.”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” I replied.

I left Marco’s hotel room without another word. I was surprised to find no werewolf guards as I called a cab downstairs. On the ride back to pick up Kat’s SUV, I found myself wondering how much of what Marco said could be believed. Through what powers I had available, I believed he was telling the truth. To have truly let down my guard in order to get the full brunt of what he was feeling would have been a mistake. I lied when I said I never bluffed. I did not want to be in Marco’s head. That was something I could not handle then, or maybe ever.

When I entered the hotel room I was sharing with Kat, I was surprised to find her still awake, waiting on me.

“Well?” she asked immediately.

“Well, what?”

“How was it?”

“It sucked.”

“Come again?”

“Nothing happened, but he did give me some things to think about.”

I could tell by the look on her face she was considering what I’d just said. “Okay. I know who he is, and that ‘technically’ he’s the bad guy, but you mean to tell me you haven’t wanted to screw that man’s brains out since you first laid eyes on him? You told me when you saw him years ago he looked good enough to eat!”

I kicked my boots off beside the bed across from Kat’s and began rummaging in my bag for something to sleep in. “I’m not saying it wasn’t difficult to turn down—”

“You’re insane,” she interrupted.

“And you’re still drunk. Get some sleep Kat. I’ll tell you what happened when you’re sober enough to understand it.” I expected her to argue, but she flounced back on the pillows in a huff and turned on the television instead. I stripped down to my black lace underwear, pulled on an old t-shirt that said, “One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor” and crawled into bed.

I would like to say I slept well. But no one could rest seeing what I saw when I closed my eyes. Marco stood before me, smiling his come on smile, looking as appealing as original sin. I slid his shirt up as far as I could reach, letting him pull it the rest of the way off. I ran my hands over the rigid muscles of his stomach, over his chest. I pressed myself against him, reveling in the way the hair on his chest felt pressed against my bare breasts.

“Lilith,” he whispered. Lilith? Wait a minute! He’d never call me by my name.

“LILITH?” Kat was standing by my bed shaking me. “Get up. We need to get on the road. And you need to tell me about last night.”

I looked at the clock. I’d had a whopping three hours sleep. So had Kat. “How is it you’re so damn chipper this morning?” I asked, rolling out of bed and groping absently for my bag.

“Chipper? I’ve got a pounding headache, I’m starving, and my mouth feels like cotton.”

“I’ve never had a hangover in my life.” I laughed. I was tired, but at least I didn’t look as miserable as Kat did upon further inspection. Her dark hair stood out at odd angles, some of it curling, some straight, with remnants of last night’s mascara smeared under her eyes. She had somehow managed to get herself in a sun dress that might have been cute, had she not looked so strung out. I pulled on a pair of old jeans with the knees worn out and a tight little t-shirt that read, “Pour some sugar on me.”

“How do I look?” I asked.

“Like you have a vendetta against the fashion police.”

“Bite me.”

“Which brings me back to what I really wanted to know. What happened last night?”

I carried the bags downstairs. Kat got dizzy trying to bend over enough to pick hers up. Once we had checked out and were back on the road, I told her everything that had happened, right down to my dream.

“Holy shit. So, maybe he’s not so bad after all?”

“Maybe. But, I still don’t trust him.”

“Yeah, but wanting equal rights isn’t a crime.”

“No, it’s not,” I said, “but killing people is, and in the past, I know he’s killed people just for disagreeing with him.”

She gave me one of those looks that said I had no room to talk.

“I’m not judging him. I’m just trying to figure this mess out. If what he says is true, then he and Bade Garren are no longer on the same side.”

“And it was Bade who tried to kill you?”

“Yeah. It looks as if Marco’s pack has split right down the middle.”

“What would that mean exactly? Giving them equal rights, I mean,” Kat asked.

“It’s complicated. To be honest, I’m not completely sure myself. It’s a crime to be infected, but it is also criminal to knowingly spread the virus. Most Hunters kill werewolves on sight, period, regardless of the situation.”

“That’s gotta suck.”

“You’ve no idea.”

I told her what had happened in the parking lot a few weeks ago, and watched as the magnitude of the situation began to dawn on her.

“They knew who you were,” she said softly.

“Yeah, ordinary people, and they knew.”

*****

When we arrived at my house, I invited Kat in for some coffee, but she declined, saying she had a bottle of aspirin at home that should do the trick. I walked into the kitchen and found Alfred waiting on me. It was still mid-morning and the smell of coffee was a welcome treat. The kitchen smelled of cinnamon and chocolate. Alfred does most of the cooking. It isn’t that I’m not capable. I’m actually a really good cook, when I have the time. It’s just something Alfred enjoys, and I’m not about to stop an Italian from cooking.

“It smells good in here,” I commented, pouring myself some coffee. I sat across from Alfred and took a deep breath. “Cinnamon and chocolate.”

“I forget sometimes what a sense of smell you’ve got.” He slid half of a chocolate bar across the table to me. “Use it to stir your coffee.” Well, that explained the chocolate smell. I took a piece of the chocolate and began stirring my coffee. I’m not sure if it was the coffee, or just being back in my own house, but I suddenly remembered I had a lot of things to tell Alfred, and I wasn’t sure where to start.

“You don’t look like you had a good time,” he commented.

“Something’s happened that I need to tell you about,” I began. I told him about seeing Marco in the club, and everything he had told me about Bade, and werewolves wanting equal rights. Alfred sat quietly and listened as I went over the details of the evening, carefully leaving out the fact that I had actually picked Marco up. I also left out the part where I freaked out and ripped off my shirt in his hotel room.

By the time I’d finally finished talking, I realized my coffee was cold and I’d only drank half of it. I was nervous. I couldn’t figure out why I would be so afraid to tell Alfred what had really happened. The information was the important part, at least that’s what I kept telling myself. He didn’t need to know I’d left the club with a man known to be a werewolf, a man that my father and Alfred both regretted not killing when they had the chance. He didn’t need to know how close I had come to accepting Marco’s offer. I was honest enough with myself to admit I had wanted to leave with Marco for reasons that had nothing to do with interrogation. It wasn’t until I was alone with him that I’d made up my mind what had to be done.

I wanted to chain Marco to the chair and do things to him that would scandalize even Kat. But, I couldn’t. For reasons beyond my explanation, I couldn’t do it. I knew if I did, I wouldn’t be able to come back and look Alfred in the face. It was my own damn fault. If I didn’t always like the villain, I would probably never have gotten into a conversation with him in the first place. I have always been attracted to the wrong kind of man. That was one thing that helped convince me Marco couldn’t be trusted. I could watch any movie for only a few minutes and tell you who the villain was, because he’d be the one I was most attracted to. That had always been the case with me, and judging from what I felt when I looked at Marco, he had to be evil.

I knew there were werewolves present when I’d walked into the club that night. Lycanthropes were easy to hunt. I can walk into a room and point them out. They have an underlying current of sex and violence, barely contained sometimes beneath their human shells. What really seals the deal, is how they taste. Bitter sweet, warm, and full bodied, like a chocolate and vanilla swirl ice cream mixed with expensive coffee. Yeah, that’s right, wolfmen taste good if you lick them.

I’ve always had a thing for the “bad guy.” Normally, the worst case scenario is men who are great in bed end up treating you like shit. In my case, they sometimes ended up being monsters underneath their skin. Talk about being attracted to the wrong type of man. It’s difficult to keep killing people you’d much rather have sex with. Just once, I’d like to meet someone who turned me on and wasn’t evil. To be honest, I’d finally had enough of bad men, even if they did taste good. For the first time ever, I just wanted a nice guy.

This brought me back to Alfred, still sitting quietly at the table across from me. Alfred was a nice guy. Was that why I’d never considered coming on to him before? Was he too nice for me? What sort of woman had I become when a man like Alfred didn’t pique my interest? After living with him platonically for so long, I really wasn’t sure how to bring up the subject. Not that I was going to bring it up, but the thought had crossed my mind.

“So, he just volunteered this information?” Alfred looked skeptical.

I decided to tell half of the truth to ease my conscience. “I sort of tied him up with silver hand cuffs and asked him some questions.”

Alfred raised one eyebrow as he looked at me over his coffee mug. “Really? And he just let you do this?”

I wasn’t sure what to say and it must have shown on my face. After a minute of awkward silence Alfred said, “Is this a regular occurrence, you carrying silver handcuffs around to question werewolves?” He paused, then stood up suddenly. “You know what? If it is, I probably don’t want to know.” His tone had changed to something I’d never heard in Alfred’s voice before. I heard him add in an undertone that I’m sure he thought I couldn’t hear, “It would only make me jealous.”

Jealous? Of me?

Chapter Four

That night I had the strangest dream. I was inside of Alfred’s head and for some reason, he was making light bulbs. The room was totally dark, that might have been why. As soon as I realized I was in his mind, I tried to escape. He turned to the far corner of the room, and I saw what looked like an opening in the floor. Beneath this opening, I could see a large body of water. It looked like we were in a room built over the docks of a lake or an ocean somewhere. He moved closer and as his toes touched the water, I “escaped.” I just suddenly appeared naked in the water. I remember thinking that I was tired, and didn’t have time to play tonight. I started swimming away from him.

Then suddenly, I was back inside his mind, and I saw myself through his eyes. I cannot describe how beautiful I was, but I will never look at myself the same way. I felt him enter the water to swim toward me, knowing he would sink. He thought sinking wouldn’t be so bad if he were only closer to me when he went under.

I woke up feeling overwhelmingly sad. Would Alfred really sink, just to be near me? I wasn’t sure what to think, but I was too tired to analyze. It had been too long since I’d had a good night’s sleep. Snuggling farther down under the covers, my hand clutching the sheets beneath my chin, I sighed, remembering the dream. It had been an incredible experience to see myself as someone else did. Part of me wanted to thank him. But if he knew what I’d seen, he might also realize I knew he’d been aroused.

*****

Over the next few days, Alfred and I didn’t speak much. He made a point of staying busy, and I threw myself back into training. But, my mind kept wandering back to the dream. It had been such an eye opening experience for me. Knowing the way he saw me was probably the best compliment I’d ever received, and I couldn’t express my thanks. Through him, I saw all of me and I accepted it. I saw my imperfections, but didn’t resent them. They were visible, but dulled by my glow. I had sort of an ethereal glow.

He wasn’t blinded by my beauty. Rather he chose to let it overshadow my flaws, even though he saw them. He did not even appear to notice or care about my scars. Alfred looked at me as if I were a work of art, and not an object. I’d never felt so much like a woman, nor so proud to be one. How do you say “thank you” for reading someone’s mind? Especially when you weren’t supposed to be there.

*****

I slumped to the training room floor, my body exhausted, mind still racing with the thoughts of my conflicting emotions. I had tried everything possible over the past two weeks to get Alfred and Marco out of my head. “If you can keep them out of your head, you can keep them out of your bed,” I kept telling myself. I wasn’t entirely sure that line of thinking was correct, but it helped me sleep at night.

I looked up at the solid steel knight I’d been fencing with. “Well there you go,” I said to myself. Putting my hand on his cold metal foot for balance, I rose to my feet. I placed the rapier I’d practiced with to my forehead, and made a dramatic bow. Then with a flourish and a swish, replaced the blade to its holster at my hip. I took a step toward the dummy, propping my head against his arm. The cold steel felt good against my overheated face. “My knight in shining armor,” I breathed.

“Well, aren’t we morose?”

I turned to see Kat making her way across the training room, her white pants reflected in the highly polished wood of the floor. I’d always thought Kathryn looked good in white. I leaned more heavily on the knight, suddenly feeling my days of nearly endless training.

“Not that it isn’t good to see you, Kat, but to what do I owe the pleasure?”

She held a sparkling piece of jewelry to the light. “I came to return your necklace.”

I leaned forward, releasing the knight in order to inspect the necklace more closely. “Kat, you borrowed this last year.”

“Bout time I brought it back then, don’t you think?”

“Why don’t you just admit you came by to check on me?”

“Okay. Fine, I came by to check on you. And just in time, it would seem. You’re talking to dummies for crying out loud.”

With a melodramatic flourish of my wrist, I motioned toward the statue as I said, “Kathryn, meet Don.” I turned to the knight with a smile. “You’re not a dummy, are you Don?” I said playfully.

“Don? As in Don Quixote?” She laughed. “Shit, you really are losing it, Lil.” She motioned toward the knight. “Your knight in shining armor, huh?”

With a sigh, I placed my hands on both her shoulders. “Darling, this is as close as I’m likely to get.”

She laughed before saying, “If you ask me, it’d be too hard to pry him out of that tin can, even if he were real.”

“Is that all you ever think about?”

Kat pretended to actually consider the question. “Mostly.”

I began unbuckling my sword belt as I walked to the hook where it normally hung.

“What’s wrong, Lil? What’s really wrong?” she asked.

With my back still turned to her, I answered as honestly as I could. “When I figure it out, I’ll let you know.” She seemed to understand my answer. As we walked past the large full length mirror near the door, I realized we looked like different sides of the same coin. Kat looked so vibrant and alive. Her snug white pants and sleeveless matching blouse looked fresh, like the summer day outside.

Preferring form-fitting clothes for training, so as not to hinder my movements, I wore black yoga style pants and a sleeveless matching shirt. Both were tight enough to reveal I’d lost more weight lately. I had always been slender, but as of late, I’d begun to look positively thin. Staring at my reflection that morning, I looked every bit like the Death the woman had called me that night.

“Speaking of morose,” Kat said, “What’s wrong with Alfred?” She gave a sort of half laugh. “Who pissed in his cornflakes?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “That would be me, I’m afraid. I sort of told him about cuffing Marco to the chair when I questioned him.”

Her mouth fell open. “And he was jealous?’

“I think so.”

Kathryn looked as if that was the best news she’d heard in a long time. “Really? You know,” she added, smiling, “this might not be a bad thing.”

She was right. The “bad thing” was waiting in my kitchen. As we walked across the house from the training room, my ears were assaulted by the sound of shrill feminine laughter. Kat shot a questioning look at me. We entered the kitchen to find a woman I did not know obviously flirting with Alfred. I wanted her out of my house.

“Lilith.” Alfred smiled. “I’d like you to meet our new neighbor—”

“Marcy Johnson,” the woman said, rising from the table and extending her hand.

I looked at the hand with its polished red nails as if someone had just offered me strychnine. My lip curled slightly as I forced myself to say, “A pleasure, I’m sure.” She looked awkwardly at her outstretched hand. Before she could retract the offer, Kat seized her hand and introduced herself quickly. “Kathryn Roberts,” she said with a smile.

I gave Kathryn a look that said clearly, “Whose side are you on?” She turned her fake smile to me, and nodded toward the two empty seats at the table. I ignored the gesture, walking toward the refrigerator instead, while Kat took a seat beside our guest. Marcy looked to be about five-foot-seven. She had blond, frizzy hair, a flat chest, wide ass, and a pointy nose. I opened the fridge and pretended to look for something in order to avoid conversation as much as possible.

“So, Marcy, what do you do?” Kat asked.

I paused for her response. “I’m a teacher,” she said, her thin lips parting in a sugary sweet smile that turned my stomach. I closed the refrigerator door harder than I’d intended to and she turned her big blue bug eyes on me. “And what do you do?” she asked.

I smiled maliciously, about to blurt out that I killed frizzy-headed school teachers, but Alfred interrupted. “Lilith is an artist,” he said quickly.

“Ah, that explains it,” she said, glancing at my bare feet with their deep purple toenails. Her gaze lingered on the dragonfly tattooed to the top of my right big toe. I wiggled the toe and she jumped, much to my satisfaction. Her sweet smile wavered only slightly as she turned her attention back to Kat.

“What about you?” she asked.

“I’m an interior designer,” Kat answered.

Marcy gave another shrill giggle, casually touching Alfred’s arm as she said, “That’s always looked like such fun to me.” My grip tightened on the bottle of water in my hand. I turned to look out the window above the sink. If I kept looking at Marcy I’d either retch, or start throwing the set of expensive kitchen knives that my eyes kept wandering toward. I looked down and saw a hastily scribbled note in Alfred’s handwriting. It said Elijah had called. That at least gave me something better to think about than the annoying, giggling woman at my table.

I gazed back out the window, tuning her out as much as possible. I let the image of her pale, blue bug eyes fade into the startling deep blue of Elijah’s. Elijah Jasper was absolutely adorable. Watching Marcy fling herself at Alfred made me wonder if I shouldn’t talk to Elijah more. The thought of going out with him had occurred to me before, but the innocent way he smiled made me wonder what place he could possibly have in my life.

He definitely wasn’t my type. That in itself made him seem dangerous somehow. I wasn’t sure I was ready to explore new territory. For the most part, I liked older men. I’ve always felt comfortable with an older, more experienced man. I supposed I was considering a relationship with Elijah in retaliation for having to watch that woman coming on to Alfred. Until Kat brought up the subject, I’d never thought of Alfred romantically. I wasn’t sure what I felt, but until I could sort it out, I did not need some slutty school teacher hanging all over him.

I caressed my hip absently, wishing I’d kept on my sword belt. But, then again, who needs a sword when you’re part animal? I looked at her fake smiling face with its overdone make up and wondered how she’d react if she knew I could rip men apart with my bare hands. That’s when it hit me, I was jealous.

I remembered the way she’d looked at my tattoo. If she knew what I really was, she’d no doubt be the first to point a finger at me with one of those high-gloss red nails, calling me a monster. Make no mistake, if ever the opportunity presented itself, I would hurt this woman. I was snapped from my fantasy of strangling her till her eyes bulged out by the realization that she was leaving. Kathryn quickly offered to show her out. With an artificial smile to me, she followed Kat to the door.

Alfred looked at me like he wanted to say something, but after seeing the expression on my face, changed his mind. Kathryn walked back in, smiling at us both. “So, what do you think of your new neighbor?”

“You know, Kat, that was what first attracted me to this place, its lack of neighbors.”

“She seemed pleasant enough,” Alfred said, his smile widening at the glare I shot toward him.

“Sure,” I said. “She had a brainless, amoeba sort of charm about her.”

Kat barely stifled a giggle at the look that passed between Alfred and me. “Well,” she said, trying to maintain her composure, “I should really be going.”

“I’ll see you out,” I offered.

“That’s all right,” she said, “I’ve been here before.” And with that, Kathryn was gone, leaving me alone with the man I’d managed to avoid for the past two weeks. Alfred gave me a look that said he was clearly displeased with my treatment of Ms. Johnson.

“If you don’t like the woman, fine,” he said, “but you don’t have to be openly hostile.”

He seemed surprised when I replied, “I don’t want to argue,” and quietly left the room.

*****

I entered my bedroom, and closed the door on the world. There was more than one reason I’d felt bad that day. I sat down at the small writing desk and picked up my journal. I kept a journal of my most unusual dreams, occasionally recording important events in my life, as well. It had been a year ago that my cat, Conan, had died. I closed my eyes and remembered a large, long-haired black cat, with a white belly, white paws, and a streak of what looked like white war paint smeared across his pink nose. I felt tears sting my eyes as I turned to the page in the journal I’d written last year.

“My cat died today. I believe there is a purpose in everything, but I fail to see the purpose in my cat dying. Conan was probably the best friend I had. He was certainly more loyal than most people I know. Now that I think of it, I don’t believe I have a picture of him. That’s okay. I’m not likely to forget him. I think he was poisoned. He got sick last night and died early this morning.

Why is everything I love taken from me? I’m afraid that I don’t love enough, that I don’t show enough of what I feel. But, just when I give up the fight, stop holding back my feelings ... they’re gone.

If it’s a man, he leaves. If it’s a friend, they turn on me. If it’s a pet ... he dies. The story of my life, I suppose. I am so close to loving Bradley the way that I should, the way that I need to.”

Bradley was the name of the man I’d been involved with for three and a half years, who later turned out to be married. I continued to the next passage I’d written only three months before.

“The last time I gave myself over to that type of all consuming, accepting, understanding love, it all went to hell. I should have seen this coming. The first time that I was hurt this badly, I nearly lost my mind. Ever since then, once I’d mentally recovered, I’ve held back.

There is a part of myself I do not give. I give my compassion, my understanding, my protection, if need be. I give my time and my energy, but every time I give my trust ... my heart, something goes wrong.

Is it so wrong to love a friend like family? Is that why they abandon me or stab me in the back? Is it wicked of me to find some measure of peace in a strong embrace? I’m tired of withholding myself from the people I care about. I’m tired of living in fear of what will be taken next. It’s eight forty-five in the morning, I’ve been awake since four and now, I’ve just been to visit the grave of my cat, my companion for the past four years. I’ve got to eat lunch with some of my mother’s family in a few hours ... Fuck me.”

I put down the journal and dried my eyes. It was painful to remember, but reliving that memory seemed to help me. We cannot really begin to heal until we give ourselves permission to hurt. The first time I was hurt badly, that I’d briefly mentioned in my journal, brought to mind a face I thought had long been forgotten. I saw the face of Peter, the first man I’d ever loved. We’d been dating when I was attacked and like a trusting fool, I’d told him what had happened. His face that used to shine with love, became the first to cringe at the sight of me. I watched the hand I’d once held be the first to point a finger, and with a voice I’d committed to memory, call me “monster.”

I kept telling myself that I was not a monster. A man who could throw someone away so carelessly, he was the monster. Even knowing that, I still wondered what was wrong with me. I was tired of having to dilute myself in order to make other people feel safe. No one could handle knowing all of me. If only I could find someone who would understand. I have let go of people I wished I could keep. You can’t keep people, but you can hold on to the love you felt for them. All I’ve ever wanted is for someone to love me for me, not who they think I am, or who they want me to be. I know what it’s like to be turned away because it would be too difficult to love someone “different.” Men fear what they do not understand. I stood by and watched Peter marry another girl I’d known in school. She was ordinary, simple, easy, and I despised her for it. Looking at Marcy Johnson, the resemblance was uncanny.

However, I sympathized with Peter, as I later came to sympathize with his wife. Does it really matter if Peter was hers in the end, when he was mine first; when a part of him would always be mine, a part she was not capable of touching? At least Peter had been man enough to say goodbye. I would always love him for it. I didn’t really miss Bradley, for I saw him as he truly was before he left. I was glad to be rid of someone like him, it just ... hurt. My love and my trust had been abused by someone who was unworthy of them both. I found myself wondering if what I felt for Alfred was something more than friendship. “And,” I asked myself, “does it matter if Marcy has him, knowing it’s me he cares for?”

“Yes,” I answered out loud, “it does.”

The beautiful summer day had begun to turn as ugly as my mood. Through the doors to the balcony, dark clouds could be seen gathering. Technically, it was still spring, but when the temperature reached nearly eighty degrees every day, I called it summer. That’s the only thing about Florida I wasn’t fond of. I did not deal well with the heat. But, you can’t have everything, and living in the middle of nowhere, with almost no neighbors, I was probably surrounded by some of God’s best art work. As I walked out onto the balcony, surrounded by deep red roses, I marveled at the fact that there were people who did not believe in the existence of a higher power. I watched the storm clouds rumble and swirl, looking like a bruise mingling with the blue of the sky. I had the urge to get a blank canvas and some paint. Yes, God existed, and he was an artist. In my opinion, anyone who doubted that need only watch one sunset. Every day the countryside around me was painted with the same masterful hand in a slightly different portrait.

The first few rain drops began to fall around me, making the roses look like bobbing little red heads as the rain bounced from their petals. I closed my eyes, tilted back my head and let the rain wash away the bad memories. After a minute or two of the refreshing downpour, I stepped inside and made my way to the shower. The upstairs bathroom is huge. There’s an alcove in the corner that hides the walk-in shower with a wall made of large river rock. I shed my wet clothes, throwing them onto a mat so as not to damage the wood floor.

The shock of the hot water on my skin after the cool rain was surprisingly pleasant. I looked out the small octagon shaped window to my right, watching the rain slide down the glass. I needed to talk to my father. Talking to him always helped to put things in perspective. I dried off quickly, put on my robe, and began looking for my communicator.

My father was on planet Terra. He went back and forth as his job required and at the moment, it required him to be there. I sat down at the writing desk, making sure my robe was closed up to my chin. My father knew I wasn’t a saint, but there was no reason to look trashy. I pushed the red button on the small communicator and watched as my father’s image projected into midair before me. He was cooking French toast.

“Hey,” he said, dropping his spatula on the floor.

“Hey, Daddy. Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah,” he picked up the spatula, flinging it into the sink behind him. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” he added, sitting at the table so I could get a better look at him. Jacob Ellis Mercury was fifty-one years old, but he didn’t look it. The streak of white hair on the chin of his otherwise red beard was the only indication he was over thirty-five.

“What’s wrong?” he said, apparently getting a better look at me, too.

“Bad day.”

He smiled in a way that said he remembered exactly what my bad days normally consisted of. “Someone pissed you off, huh?”

“Yeah.” I laughed, feeling better already. “I’ll get over it. What did you need to talk to me about?”

“Barak.” He said the name as if he were referring to a cockroach.

“Why, what’s he done?”

“Remember the crap he gave you about equal rights?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, he’s asking for permission to speak before the council.”

“The Wizard Council?” I said, disbelieving Marco would go that far.

“That’s right. Won’t say what it’s all about, though.”

“He’d need a special escort even to be allowed back on the planet.”

We both paused, considering the situation. I spoke first. “Do you think he’ll get it? Permission to speak to the council?”

“I’m not sure, but if he does, I’m damn sure gonna know what he says.” He held up what looked like a small blue dragonfly.

“A bug?” I asked.

“In more than one sense of the word.” He smiled.

“Won’t that look odd, a blue dragonfly on the wall?”

“Not really. The woods around the Council Tower are enchanted. There’s all sorts of weird things in there. No one will notice a blue dragonfly.” He looked very pleased with himself and I had to admit it was a good idea. Neither of us was sure what it would mean if Marco spoke to the council about equal rights for werewolves. How would that change the job of The Hunters? Better yet, how would that change the lives of those people on Earth who were lycanthropes?

The President of the United States as well as other world leaders had all known of our existence for some time. But this, like so many other things, had been kept from the public. If the Wizard Council agreed to equal treatment of lycanthropes, other world leaders would be hard pressed to find a reason to disagree, at least on Terra. Earth was another story. There were remote places where The Hunters had not been allowed, letting the werewolf population run unchecked. Lycanthropes would still need to be governed by some laws that would not apply to ordinary people. But, as my father said, “That’s for people with more authority than you and me to decide.” He was right, and it would do no good to worry. It sometimes took months for the council to decide if they would even allow someone to speak, let alone side one way or another. Wizards did not get in a hurry.

Most of this world was shaped by wizards, though almost no one is aware of the fact. There have actually been many famous wizards on Earth. Only seven wizards are born every century, with most living close to one thousand years. Three of these seven will serve on the council for their lifetime, however long that might be. Council members are elected by the public. Only two wizards were ever known to refuse the office, until recently. Methuselah was the first, and everyone has heard of Merlin.

The most recent wizard to refuse the office was Alek Ambrose, whose name, roughly translated means, “the immortal protector of mankind.” Ambrose was famous for defeating the goblin army created by the dark wizard, Tavarius Maeryn, in his youth. It was a surprise when he turned down the appointment. To have such a powerful wizard remain neutral could be dangerous.

Julius Caesar was descended from wizards. Even Cleopatra was rumored to have been a sorceress. Science and the unexplainable have lived side by side as far back as recorded history. In the past, wizards played an important role in many cultures, before society developed a need for scientific explanations. Science has not yet been able to explain the power of wizards. It’s sort of like trying to explain how God created the heavens and the earth, people will always disagree. Some theorize that wizards derive their power from extreme psychic ability, others say it’s magic. However you want to look at it, wizards simply are what they are. People have always mistrusted someone different, instinctively fearing what they cannot rationally explain. In this case, however, their fears are not entirely unfounded.

One of the most truly evil wizards in our history, Ulric Weylin, was closely associated with Lionel Ferdinand, the creator of the lycanthropy virus. It was speculated that science would never find a cure for something the wizard likely had a hand in. There is no vaccine for black magic. All attempts at vaccination have only spread the virus further. Just like some people develop the flu from a shot, nearly everyone vaccinated contracted lycanthropy.

Much of the population of Terra has some psychic ability, or knows someone who does. Nothing extreme, just some flicker of ability. Because of this, their distrust has never extended to psychics, though on Earth, anyone calling themselves a psychic is pretty much a joke.

I felt better after talking things over with my father, but I was no closer to being able to clear my head. My mind was flooded with images of things not found even in the Kama Sutra. I knew my thoughts of Marco were completely inappropriate, but that didn’t stop me from thinking them. As much as he wanted to deny being an animal, when it came down to brass tacks, he was as alpha male as they came ... and that just turned me on. Maybe my attraction to power had something to do with being a woman. Or maybe, as much as I denied it, I was close enough to being an alpha female that he simply had that effect on me. Either way, I needed to do something to get Marco out of my head.

I love art, in all of its many forms. Drawing in particular has always been a great way for me to relax. Sometimes, if I can get my thoughts on paper, I can get them out of my head. Bearing that hope in mind, I collected my sketchbook from its shelf, along with the small bag where I kept my many assorted color pencils, turned on some music, and began to sketch.

The images that had plagued my mind for days began to take their erotic forms on the velum before me. In my mind, I pictured everything I’d seen of Marco that night, and everything I hadn’t. My darkest fantasies took the shape of sordid graphite images, Marco chained to the chair, tied naked and helpless in a dungeon somewhere, kneeling like a slave before me.

Of course, no one would ever see these except me, so I gave my imagination free reign over my hands. One picture consisted of nothing but his chest with my hands pressed against him. My hand worked as if it had a mind of its own. The more I sketched, the better I felt. I suppose it was like telling a counselor all of your problems, or talking to a really good friend. I just felt better getting these pictures out of my head.

As I stood up to stretch my legs, I decided it was time for a change in my musical accoutrement. I looked over my assorted CDs, stopping finally on a mix I had labeled, “favorites.” The first song that began to play was an oldie from the seventies. It was about a couple finally consummating their relationship and the rough, sexy voice of the singer did it for me. I had always liked the song, but something came over me that evening. I sat down, searching for a pencil that didn’t need sharpening. I had seen something I had to capture before the image was gone.

I began sketching frantically, trying to get on paper what I saw. My hand moved wildly over the page. As the image began to form, I saw a man, a handsome man whom I’d never seen before. His hair was somewhat wild, his eyebrows thick, and even though I drew in black and white, I knew he was blond. His eyes that I drew with a detail which had previously eluded me, were brown. I could not picture his body, just his face. He had a long almost aquiline nose that cast a slight shadow over his lips, which seemed to be pursed in thought. He had fine lines around his eyes and mouth, which gave some indication that he was at least middle aged.

I sat back and looked at the picture in amazement. It was not unusual for me to see things in my dreams, but something like this had never happened to me before. I wasn’t sure what to think, or what it might mean. But I knew eventually, this man would mean something to me. It was odd. I sat staring down at the face looking back at me, and I knew him, though I’d never met him. I don’t believe in past lives, and I’d never seen this face before in my dreams. I was at a loss.

By then, the hour was late, and I was very tired. I decided to put the drawings away, and think about it all another time. I looked over at the ornate iron clock hanging on my wall. It was two thirty in the morning. No wonder I was tired. I collected the many sketches and pencils that were scattered across the bed and placed them on my writing desk.

I slid between the silk sheets, staring at the sheer red hangings draped above my four poster bed. I didn’t like the idea of bed hangings that would completely obstruct my view so I had long pieces of sheer fabric loosely wrapped around the iron bars that connected above the bed. It gave the room a dramatic flair that I loved. The first time Kathryn had seen the room after I redecorated, she described it as “a romantic mix between Victorian elegance and a medieval dungeon.” I’d say her description was pretty accurate.

No matter how long I lay there, or how hard I tried to rest, the comforting arms of sleep would not embrace me. At about three o’clock, I gave up and decided to have a cup of tea. The air seemed cooler after the rain. I figured I would need to wear something more than my robe downstairs. I went to the chest of drawers and took out some black silk pajamas. My favorite color is purple, but no one could guess that from my wardrobe.

My room had been decorated in different shades of purple before the dramatic red. I was ready for a change. Kat said I was projecting the romance I wasn’t getting in my life onto my bedroom. She was probably right.

As I crossed the foyer I noticed the kitchen light was already on. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping. After walking out earlier that day when Alfred had so obviously wanted to argue, I was almost afraid to be alone with him. But, I’d be damned if I was going to be intimidated out of my own kitchen.

I found Alfred sitting at the table, reading one of my books of poetry and enjoying what smelled like English tea. A bowl of strawberries and cream sat on the table untouched. He didn’t notice me at first, which gave me the opportunity to appreciate how good he looked. He was wearing gold satin pajamas which went well with the caramel of his skin. I had worn black fuzzy slippers, but I noticed Alfred’s feet were bare. I’d never known Alfred to wear slippers, but watching him that night, the sight of his bare feet seemed more intimate somehow. His hair was tousled, looking as though he had tried to sleep, but the circles underneath his eyes told me he’d had about as much success with sleeping as I had.

He was either oblivious to the fact that someone else was in the room, or he was deliberately ignoring me. Since he was reading my poetry, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. I sat across from him, noticing the slight smile that had begun to play across his lips. “This is quite good,” he said without looking up.

“You knew I was here?”

He looked at me then, with the same half smile as he said, “Of course. I just wondered how long you were planning to stand there watching me.” He sighed, placing the book on the table, his smile beginning to fade. “Can’t sleep?” he asked.

“No.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. Obviously telling him how Marco had haunted my thoughts was out of the question. I almost mentioned the other picture I’d drawn that night, the handsome man with kind eyes, but it seemed somehow wrong to discuss the drawing with Alfred.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked.

“Honestly? I’m not sure where to start.”

“You can’t keep pretending I’m not here, Lilith. I’m not stupid. You’ve been avoiding me for weeks now.”

“You didn’t exactly make yourself available either,” I accused.

“Why should I? Do you realize how many times I tried to speak to you and you didn’t even look at me?”

Ouch. Had I been that distant? I wasn’t ready to discuss my feelings with Alfred, but I hadn’t meant to be so cold. “I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I’ve been dealing with ... some things. I never meant to take it out on you.”

He seemed to consider what I’d just said. “Would it help if you talked about it?”

“There are some things that I’m not sure I can say to you.”

“What about Kathryn?”

I laughed. “Kat’s solution to everything is for me to get enough of my brains screwed out that I can’t think straight enough to worry.”

He laughed softly and I realized I had never fully appreciated the deep subtle quality of Alfred’s voice. I think I might have blocked it out in an effort to protect myself. I was so afraid of falling, only to find there was nothing to catch me but the cold, hard ground. I leaned forward over the table, looking deeply into Alfred’s eyes. I could see he genuinely wanted to understand. I had an idea, but I wasn’t sure if it would work.

Chapter Five

“Do you remember the guy I was dating when I was attacked?” I asked, sliding back into my seat.

His eyebrows drew closer in concentration. “Peter?”

I nodded.

“Yes, I remember him. He was John’s son wasn’t he?”

“Yes,” I said my voice unable to hide the sorrow that even the mention of Peter caused. John had worked with my father, also, once upon a time. He was killed by a pack of werewolves only six months before my attack. I looked up into Alfred’s eyes and found them full of compassion. It was more than I could take. I moved into the seat closest to him, reached over and took his hand in mine.

“There are things that I never told you,” I began, “things that I never told anybody, even Kat.” I looked down at the hand I held between both of my own, lightly caressing the calluses on his knuckles. “There’s something I’d like to show you.”

“All right,” he said, as if unsure what his response should be.

Without waiting for further permission, I grasped Alfred’s hand tightly and forced myself to remember Peter. I saw him just as he had looked almost ten years ago. I remembered the way my heart fluttered to look at him, standing outside one summer afternoon. His light blond hair blowing in the breeze, his sky blue eyes sparkling with a joke that I couldn’t remember. I recalled how happy it made me just to be near him. Every time he smiled at me, the world seemed to be a better place. I loved him so deeply, so passionately, that it hurt to breathe. I took those strong emotions, those memories and I pushed them with my mind, through my hand and into Alfred.

The memory of the night Peter turned on me played itself out in my mind as if it were yesterday. At last, Alfred knew what it felt like to be called a monster. I let him feel my memory of being afraid that the world would end and I would have never known love. Then I remembered another face, one without fond memories attached. I let him see the girl Peter had married and how strongly she resembled Marcy Johnson. I remembered the way I had felt when I learned of Peter’s engagement. No one had the balls to tell me. I had to read it in the paper. It felt like someone had hit me. I remembered the picture of their smiling faces looking back, mocking me from page five of the local news. I knew they were dating. It had been five years since my attack when Peter got married. But seeing it there in plain black and white brought home more than ever that he would never be mine again. I took my rage, my unfulfilled need to cause someone else to hurt as badly as I did, and flung it at Alfred.

I relived meeting Peter’s wife years later in a supermarket. She was wearing dark shades to cover her black eye. She knew who I was. We’d known each other in school. I spoke to her, determined to be the better person and never let her know how much I loathed her. She had taken my hasty greeting as a sign that I didn’t hate her, and poured her heart out to me.

There I stood, with the woman I had despised for years, crying on my shoulder because Peter abused her. I let Alfred feel how much I wanted to strangle her, and how glad I was that it was winter, and I’d worn gloves. I did not want to directly touch that woman. I wanted nothing more than to wrap my hands around her slender throat until I felt the bones crack, just for the satisfaction of hearing them crunch. Instead, I held her. I held her to me as if the world was ending, because to her, it was.

As we stood there, in the middle of the frozen food aisle, I cried with her. As I held her I suddenly understood that she had no one else to turn to, not if she looked to me for comfort. If I was her idea of refuge, what must the storm be like? Though I wanted to do so, I could not turn her away.

Through my touch, Alfred knew what if felt like to fall in love again, against your better judgment, with a man that you knew deep down would only break your heart. He understood what it felt like to have someone not only fear your love, but run from it. I hurt so deeply that it was beyond my description. The disappointment I’d felt when Bradley had shown his true colors coursed through me, crashing into Alfred like the tide. It wouldn’t have hurt so much if he had at least spoken to me. I knew Bradley planned to leave. His plans were not a secret to me, but he thought they were. I had hoped that he would be man enough to tell me he was leaving. Coward. Through my memories, Alfred experienced my fear, my longing, and my hatred. What I felt was beyond words.

When Alfred’s face appeared in my mind, I broke the contact. After all, he didn’t need to know everything. We sat quietly for a moment, before he whispered, “Figlio di cagna, troia.” That’s Italian for son of a bitch.

“Exactly,” I said, wiping my eyes. I looked up at Alfred and realized he’d been crying. As red as his eyes were, he must have cried from the time that I’d first touched him until I broke the contact. I felt guilty. I wanted him to understand what I had been going through, but I’d never meant to hurt him.

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t.” He wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his pajamas. “I asked. I wanted to know. I wondered what happened between you and Peter. I knew about Brad, but I had no idea.” He seemed at a loss for words.

“And I didn’t know how to even begin to explain it.”

He offered me a weak smile. “A picture’s worth a thousand words.”

“So you did see the memories, you didn’t just feel them?”

“I saw them ... and I felt them.” He reached out, covering my small hand with his. I was surprised that he would be willing touch me after what just happened. “I’m sorry, Lil. I’ve been an ass. I’ve deliberately provoked you. I saw who Peter’s wife looked like—”

“I don’t own you,” I interrupted, trying to sound casual.

“But, you could.” I looked down at my hand, still resting in his and realized that I was hearing his thoughts. I didn’t know what to say, or how he would feel if I were to respond to his thoughts. I was afraid to know what Alfred felt, but I didn’t want to break the contact. His hand felt so warm and comforting. I wanted to touch more of him. I wanted to run my hands over his satin pajamas, just to feel the warmth of his skin beneath. What I felt wasn’t sexual, I needed comfort. I let some of what I was feeling pass to Alfred.

“Don’t be afraid to touch me,” he said, more softly than I’d expected. He stretched out his arms to me, and I leaned into his embrace.

“I’m so confused,” I whispered.

“I know,” he said as he swept me onto his lap, wrapping me in his arms.

I rested my face against the side of his throat, feeling his pulse against my forehead. Alfred held me for a long time, speaking softly to me in Italian. His voice soothed the emotional storm that raged within me. For the first time in weeks, I found some measure of peace as he stroked my hair, whispering words of comfort, like a caress to my tormented mind. I couldn’t tell you a word he said, but I remember the way he made me feel. I drifted to sleep in Alfred’s strong embrace, knowing that I was not alone, and that this night I could rest, knowing that the arms that held me would also protect me.

I felt myself being lifted. Someone was carrying me, but where was I going? The last thing I remembered was Alfred holding me. Where was Alfred? I was startled awake by this thought. “Shh,” Alfred whispered. I sighed, appreciating for the first time how good he smelled. I breathed deeply, rubbing my face against the satin of his pajamas, wanting to commit his scent to memory.

Alfred shifted me in his arms and I heard him open my bedroom door. Had I been awake enough to think about it, being alone in my bedroom with Alfred would have made me nervous. But, I wasn’t awake. In fact, I was barely conscious when he laid me back against the silk covered pillows. I felt cold without him. As I opened my eyes, I realized that he was leaving. I reached out and caught his wrist just as he turned to go.

“Stay,” I whispered.

He looked over his shoulder at me, but he didn’t turn around. I saw the question in his eyes.

“I’m not asking you to climb through my balcony window, but please ... don’t go.”

He sat down beside me and caressed my cheek with the back of his hand. “So, you’re not asking me to climb through your window, huh?” He smiled. “It’s a damn good thing, too, cause I pulled my back again carrying you up the stairs.”

“Again?”

“I pulled it weeks ago, dragging that damned werewolf down to the incinerator.”

I couldn’t stop myself from laughing at the pitiful look on his face while I slid between the sheets and patted the space beside me. “Come here.”

“Do I look like a teddy bear to you?” Alfred asked as he stretched his long legs out beside me. He held his arm out toward me and I snuggled up against his side.

“Maybe if you wear one of those little bow ties,” I teased.

“Me wear a bow tie?” He patted my head as he continued, “You poor thing you’re delirious.”

I giggled, snuggling closer into his embrace. It had been a long time since I’d slept with a man—and actually slept. I felt so small pressed against his side. I fit completely under his arm. My feet only reached to the middle of his shin, where I pinched his pajamas between my toes, enjoying the feel of the fabric on my bare feet.

“This feels good,” I mumbled, already drifting off again. I felt Alfred sigh as I rested my head against his chest. I fell asleep letting the steady rhythm of his heart soothe me like a lullaby.

*****

I awoke to the safety of Alfred’s embrace, his body wrapped around me like a warm blanket pressed against my back. I turned to face him, careful to move only as much as necessary. With his arm still across my waist, I watched Alfred as he slept.

I lay there for the longest time, admiring his full lips and creamy caramel complexion, amazed that it had taken me so many years to notice how handsome he was. Soft rays of morning sunlight touched the top of his head, making his dark hair shine like polished obsidian. The urge to run my fingers through that thick dark hair was too difficult to resist. I snuggled closer to him, running my hand up the back of his neck and into the softness of his hair. I snickered at the thought of asking him what sort of conditioner he used. His long eyelashes fluttered slightly and I was soon looking into his sleepy dark eyes.

“You look rested,” he said.

“I slept surprisingly well.”

“Did you?” Alfred smiled his charming half smile as he ran his hand up my back. He looked puzzled for a moment. “Are you wearing a bra?”

“Yes.”

He looked even more confused. “To bed?”

I wrapped my arm more tightly around his waist meaning to slide him closer to me, but because of our significant difference in size, I slid closer to him. Smiling seductively I said, “I’m too well endowed to go without some kind of support.”

“Is that so? I hadn’t noticed,” he replied playfully as he ran his hand up underneath the back of my silk pajama top. He toyed with the clasp on my bra as he whispered softly, “Tu guardare bella in la mattina luce.” (You look beautiful in the morning light.)

“Grazie.”

I wasn’t sure what else to say, or how I should react, but I didn’t want him to stop. I leaned in to kiss him, wishing that I could spend the day in his arms while he whispered sweet Italian nothings in my ear. However, before our lips could touch, I heard an unusual clattering sound against my balcony window.

“Did you hear that?” I asked.

“Unfortunately.”

As the clattering sound grew louder, I realized someone was throwing rocks at my window.

“A bit early for Don Juan, don’t you think?” Alfred said irritably.

I crawled out of bed and flung the balcony doors open. Kat was standing beneath the roses, her hands filled with small pieces of gravel from the driveway.

“Psst, Lilith, are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” I said, leaning over the railing where Kat could see me.

“I couldn’t get Alfred to answer the door—” She broke off suddenly. Her jaw dropped as Alfred walked up behind me and placed his hand on my shoulder.

“Everything all right?” he asked. Looking over the balcony he added, “Good morning, Kathryn.”

“G-good morning,” she stammered. An evil smile played across her features. “Well, no wonder you didn’t come to the door. You weren’t downstairs, were you?” Her wicked smile widened when Alfred didn’t bother to correct her line of thinking.

He turned to me with an evil smile of his own, “I’ll let you girls gossip. I’ve got work to do.” He pinched my butt as he added, “Zuccherino.” I couldn’t help laughing.

“You’re evil,” I said to Alfred, soft enough that only he could hear.

“Zook what?” Kat asked.

“Sugar pie,” I interpreted with a smile.

“Oh.” She yelled at Alfred before he could leave, “Hey, what makes you think I’m here to gossip?!”

“Because you are,” he yelled back on his way across the bedroom.

I looked back at Kat and she laughed. “Yeah, I am. You suppose I could come in now? I’m getting a crick in my neck.”

I stepped back into my black fuzzy slippers and went downstairs to meet Kat. When I opened the door I was greeted by the most mischievous grin I’d ever seen. It was like looking at the Cheshire cat on crack. “So, does it match the rest of him?” she asked, stepping into the foyer.

“Does what match the rest of him?”

“You know, he’s big, and tall—”

“Kat!”

“What?” she laughed. “It’s a perfectly natural thing to ask.”

“Oh, yeah? Good morning, Lilith. So, how big is Alfred’s dick? That sound normal to you?”

She burst out laughing. “That’s not exactly what I said, but I guess it’s close enough.”

We walked into the kitchen to find Alfred making coffee. Kat blushed to the roots of her hair. I’m sure she realized he had most likely overheard our conversation.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” I said, determined to get even for the interruption that morning.

“Ask me what?” Alfred said. He winked at me in a way that let me know he had heard every word we’d said in the foyer. I took a seat at the kitchen table, smirking at Kat’s obvious embarrassment.

She turned an almost tomato red as I blurted out, “Kat just wanted to know how big your dick is. You know, since you’re so ... big and tall.” I turned a smile to Alfred that would have made the devil proud, while I slid down in my chair so that I could reach him enough to run my bare foot up the front of his pjs, taking advantage of how near he stood.

“So, why don’t you tell her?” I purred seductively. “Is it as big as the rest of you?”

Alfred’s eyes sparkled with a mischief I’d never seen before as he said, “You can tell her yourself, I’ve got work to do.” He turned around and began pouring himself some coffee.

“So you’ve said, but I don’t see you going anywhere.”

“Watch closely then.” He picked up his coffee cup with a smile and left the room.

Kat sat down across from me, her embarrassment replaced by curiosity. “Well?” she persisted.

“What brings you here this early, Kat?”

“Oh, no. You’re not changing the subject. You’re going to explain what just happened here.”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? It didn’t look like nothing from the view I had.”

“Yeah, well, your view was blocked a bit by the roses.”

“Not blocked enough to miss him pinching your ass or calling you sugar pie, in Italian, no less. He was in your room, and it’s too damn early for business.”

“So what, it had to be pleasure?”

“Well wasn’t it?”

“No,” I said, laughing, “but it might have been if someone hadn’t started throwing rocks at my window.”

“Oops.” She laughed. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” I said, getting two mugs out of the cabinet, “seriously.”

“Wait a minute. He spent the night with you?”

“Yes.”

“And nothing happened?”

“Depends on what you’d define as nothing.”

I took a sip of coffee and managed to burn my tongue. Kat raised her eyebrows as Alfred walked back in suddenly, going straight for the refrigerator. We got suspiciously quiet.

He looked at us briefly before commenting, “I see the subject hasn’t changed.” He walked around Kat, leaned over her shoulder and said, “You know, curiosity killed the cat.”

“Is that a threat?” she joked.

“No,” he said with a smile. “But a lady never asks, and a gentleman never tells.”

Kat seemed to regain some of her composure along with her wicked grin as she said, “Okay then, show me where I can find a lady and a gentleman, and I won’t ask them to tell me anything.”

I laughed at the look on Alfred’s face. “Well, you’ve got me there, Kat. But, Alfred really is a gentleman.”

“I thought those were extinct,” Kat said skeptically. “Shouldn’t he be on display somewhere?”

“Maybe,” I said as I imaged him “displayed” across my scarlet bed sheets. The honeyed bronze of his skin looked good against red. Alfred picked up the cream he’d taken from the fridge and left the room with a smile.

“You really didn’t—” Kat began.

“No,” I interrupted.

“How disappointing. He’s not gay is he?”

“No!” I looked as scandalized as possible. “He really is a gentleman. Although, I might have changed that in a few more minutes.”

“Well, next time you plan to seduce someone before nine o’clock, leave me a message.”

“Don’t think I won’t,” I teased. “So, what brings you here?”

The smile faded from her face. “I just wanted to warn you to be expecting another visit from your new neighbor.”

“What?” I was horrified at the thought of having to endure that woman’s presence in my house again. “What for?”

“She stopped by my shop yesterday after I left here, wanted me to decorate for her party.”

“Party?” I felt nauseated.

“Yes, and you’re invited.” She giggled, doing a really good impression of Marcy Johnson.

“Why?” I asked, still hoping this was all a bad dream.

“She wants to get to know everybody. She’s invited half the town.”

“Great, more people to make me feel like a weirdo,” I said sarcastically. “I’m not going.” My mind was made up.

“Well, she was real keen to invite Alfred. Asked me all sorts of nosy questions.”

“Such as?”

“Like, if you two are a couple.”

“And what did you say?” I asked as I put down my cup. I’d lost my taste for coffee.

“I told her that I didn’t pry into your personal life, so I really wouldn’t know.”

“Good answer. It’s bullshit, but good answer.”

“So, what will you say when she stops by?”

“No, thank you.”

“What about Alfred?”

“I don’t own him,” I said. My blood boiled at the thoughts of Marcy even speaking to Alfred.

“No, but you could.” I was surprised to hear Alfred’s thoughts coming out of Kathryn’s mouth. “Don’t look so surprised.” She mistook the reason for my shocked expression. “The way he looks at you, it’s obvious how much he cares.” Was it obvious? I’d never noticed before.

“If he wants to go, I can’t stop him. He’s a grown man.” I tried to sound as if I didn’t care.

“Sure. You can stop a pack of werewolves from killing my ex-boyfriend, but you can’t stop one scientist from attending a party. That’s completely believable.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “You know, those silver blades are not your only weapons.”

I laughed. “That’s my line, remember? I told you about saying that to someone one time.”

“Yeah, you did, but I don’t think you took it to heart. It’s true, you know. All you have to do is say, ‘Alfred, don’t go’, and he won’t go.”

“Yes, and that’s exactly why I’m not going to say anything. It’s his decision. If he stayed here, I’d always wonder if he stayed because I’d asked him, or because he wanted to.”

“Wow. Too deep for me,” Kat said while she took a sip of coffee.

“When’s the party?” I asked, not able to change the subject yet.

“This Friday. You’ve got two days to think about it.”

I laughed bitterly as I said, “There is no thinking. I’m not going and that’s final.”

“What will you do then? I mean, if Alfred does go.”

“I’ll find something else to do.”

Kathryn’s wicked grin returned as she said, “As opposed to doing Alfred?”

“Oh, give it up.” I laughed. “If it happens, it happens, but I refuse to rush into anything.” My expression turned serious as I added, “Not again.”

*****

I only had to wait until later that day for Marcy to stop by. I was outside pruning my roses when I saw her drive up. I watched as she reapplied lipstick to her thin lips and gave a quick fluff to her frizzy blond hair before ringing the doorbell. My pulse raced with the urge to crack her in the head with my garden shears. To say my mood was suddenly foul would be like saying that milk that expired last year was bad. Understatement didn’t begin to cover it.

Just as I was toying with the idea of walking in the house holding the garden shears, only to see the look on her face, of course, I had an unexpectedly pleasant surprise. Elijah Jasper was making his way up the front drive. He came to a stop just underneath the arch with the big white Queen Anne rose. As I walked over to his car, I was overcome by the sweet smell of the roses in full bloom. I stopped to take a deep breath, closing my eyes.

“Never miss an opportunity to smell the roses,” he said, smiling as he rolled down the window.

I walked over, propped on the car, and leaned in as I said, “They really shouldn’t allow cute cops out in public like this.” I smiled. “I have a weakness for bacon.” He had a genuine heartfelt laugh that did me good to hear. I felt my mood lighten as Elijah smiled up at me through the car window. “Would you step outside the vehicle please?” I said in my best cop imitation voice. He smiled, but didn’t ask questions. As Elijah got out of the car, I tossed the garden shears near the bottom of the roses and began removing my leather gloves. “So, what brings you out this way? Please tell me there haven’t been any more animal attacks?”

“No,” he said, glancing at his feet, seeming more nervous than he had a minute before. When he looked at me with those incredibly deep blue eyes, I couldn’t help but smile. The smile seemed to encourage him, but not enough to speak.

“What can I do for you Officer Jasper?”

“Please, call me Eli,” he said, his bright smile reaching his eyes. “You’ve heard about Marcy Johnson’s party, right?”

Well, that was a subject I hadn’t expected. “Yeah.” I was barely able to keep the full extent of my dislike for Marcy out of my voice.

“I assume you’re not going?” he said, making a face.

“You got that right.” I glanced at her car. “Would you arrest me if I ran my garden shears down the side of her car?” I asked, half serious.

“No.” Elijah laughed. “I can’t stand her.”

I looked back at him, obviously shocked. “Officer, are you contributing to my delinquency?” I joked.

“Maybe. So, if you’re not going to the party, what are you doing Friday night?”

The fact that Elijah looked good in uniform was not lost on me. “Are you coming on to me ... Eli?”

He smiled at me in a way that no longer looked innocent and I wondered if I hadn’t underestimated him. “No. But, the thought had occurred to me.”

I smiled, despite my best efforts to control myself. There was something about Elijah and his blue eyes that just made me want to smile. The man was so damned cute, I couldn’t help myself. I looked back at the house and could see Marcy and Alfred talking through the kitchen window. From the bewildered look on his face, I had no doubt that she’d suckered him into going to her party. I sighed. Nope, I couldn’t make Alfred stay at home, but that didn’t mean that I had to sit around waiting on him either.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Honestly? I didn’t get past convincing you to put down the shears and step away from my window.” We both laughed. “Do you like sushi?”

“I love it,” I said, thinking that spending time with Elijah might not be so bad.

“I was thinking maybe dinner and a movie,” he said.

“The only problem with that is there’s nothing playing that I want to see,” I said. “I suppose we could always rent something.”

“Hey, why don’t I get take out, rent some movies and just come over here?” he suggested. “Unless you prefer to go out?”

“No. That sounds like fun. What time should I expect you?”

“When would you like me?” he asked playfully. Elijah was much better at this flirting thing than I’d given him credit for.

“I’d like you on time,” I said, not about to be outdone. “But, leave the handcuffs.”

He laughed. “Are you sure?”

“I never use restraints on a first date,” I said as I picked up my garden shears.

“How’s five o’clock sound? Without the handcuffs, of course.”

“All right.”

He got back in his car and smiled at me through the window. Yet again, his smile reached the deep blue of his eyes, causing them to twinkle in a way that was nothing short of adorable.

“I’ll see you then.” He winked.

I walked to the shed in the backyard, thinking to myself that two could play this game. From the self-satisfied smirk I’d seen Marcy wearing, I knew where Alfred would be Friday night. If he wasn’t man enough to turn her down, I saw no reason why I should refuse Elijah. Besides, with Elijah there were no mixed emotions, no confusing feelings to sort out. He was nice. He was cute, and seemed like he would be fun to spend some time with. He was also the only person other than my father who had never looked at me in fear. Even Alfred had been afraid the first time he saw my partial transformation. Not that I could blame him, but it meant something to me that Elijah had never looked at me that way. He knew who and what I was when we’d met, but he never looked at me as if I were any different than the girl next door.

I waited until I heard Marcy’s tires crunching on the gravel before I went inside. I walked past the sitting room and found Alfred waiting at the foot of the stairs. He looked as if he was preparing to go to war.

“Let me explain,” he began.

“There’s nothing to explain,” I cut in. Truth be told, I didn’t want to hear it. Childish perhaps, but true. “Like I said last night, I don’t own you. If you want to go then go, but I won’t be there.”

I tried to walk past him, but he stood in my way, using his considerable height to try to intimidate me. “And where will you be?” he asked.

“Will you be at her party Friday night?” I asked as blandly as possible.

“I said I would. I had no choice, she wouldn’t go away otherwise—”

“Then kick her ass out,” I interrupted again. “You worry too much what other people think.”

“So, I’m beginning to see,” he said coldly. With that, Alfred pushed past me and stormed off toward his downstairs bedroom.

“Damn it.” I shook my head at my own stupidity, went upstairs and got in the shower. I wondered how the day might have turned out differently if Kat had shown up only an hour later. I wasn’t angry with Kat. She had no way of knowing. I was angry with myself for letting the day’s events stop me from picking up with Alfred where we had left off that morning.

I rested my forehead against the cold stone of the shower wall. The fact that I could be touching Alfred’s warm skin at that very moment made it seem even colder. I couldn’t keep letting my fears push me away from him. So I’d been hurt. Who hasn’t? I couldn’t let my past stop me from ever having a future. Besides, I loved Alfred, in my own way. He’d been a friend of my family for years, and I cared for him. I kept telling myself that I should go downstairs and apologize. I stepped out of the shower, dried quickly, and snatched on my robe. For once, I was going to admit that I was wrong.

Chapter Six

I went downstairs and found Alfred asleep on the couch. My heart fluttered as I watched the even rhythm of his breathing, and wondered how I should wake him. “I’m sorry I was an asshole, would you like to come to bed with me?” didn’t seem quite adequate. How was it that a poet stood there at a loss for words? That was it. I’d wake him and say that I was at a loss to describe what I felt when I looked at him, but I knew I did not want to spend the night alone. I reached out to wake him, but before my hand touched his shoulder, he spoke. As he rolled away from me, still asleep, one word was clearly audible, “Marcy.”

The anger that I would have expected did not come. My knees felt weak and my chest hurt, but I had not misunderstood him. My senses were above and beyond what they should have been. I’d heard him correctly. I stumbled backward, feeling foolish. Here I was about to confess that I had feelings for him while he lay on my couch, dreaming of another woman. I backed out of the room quietly. I did not want Alfred to know I’d been there, no reason to add insult to injury.

That made up my mind, more than anything, to give Elijah a chance. It didn’t have to lead to anything serious. Elijah was a nice guy and that happened to be what I was in need of. I made my way to the kitchen where I took three sleeping pills. With my metabolism, it would take that many to keep me out for very long. I went back upstairs and stretched across the bed, waiting for sleep to claim me. I did not want to dream. Surely with as many pills as I’d taken I would be able to spend a few hours blissfully unconscious, without dreams of Alfred and Marcy to torment me.

*****

I spent the next day either in my room or out on the balcony painting. I set up my easel that morning, angled toward a good view of the roses. As I painted, I asked myself what I was really worried about. Everything, like the roses, had a time and a season. At times, life seems so clear and then you wake up. The coffee that you were meant to smell is actually burning, and you’re late for an appointment.

As I mixed the colors to achieve the perfect blood red, I thought to myself that if love were a color, it would be red. This reminded me of the last poem I’d had published. I figured I was already feeling down, so why not read some sappy poetry and make things worse? That’s like listening to country music after a bad break up. You know it won’t help, but you really just want to wallow in things for a bit before moving on.

Self-pity is one of those qualities that we’d all like to get rid of, but at times you just can’t help but indulge yourself. Some people get depressed and live off of ice cream and chips for a week. I read lovey-dovey poetry and paint. What’s the point in being an artist if you can’t be a little morose from time to time? Besides, it was either throw my own pity party, or go downstairs and talk to Alfred. At that moment I would have rather typed invitations to a pity party than talk to Alfred about what I’d overheard the night before, let alone explain what I had been doing downstairs.

After putting aside my paint brush, I took the leather bound book of poetry from my shelf, I read:

The Color of Romance

Pink is a flirtatious someone for whose embrace you are willing to take a chance.

Lavender is a soothing person whom you’d like to know more of under a different circumstance.

Orange is a fire that you cannot put out, it makes you scream, from within and without.

Yellow is the golden hair of the one who got away. We know we’ll love them longer than just today.

But, we know we are done for when we see Red.

It inspires us to do more than take a chance.

It goes beyond entrancing us with a single glance.

Red is the color that passionate souls see when they dance, for red, my dear, is the color of romance.

I glanced at the brief author’s biography that accompanied the poem and realized that this was the volume Alfred had been reading a few nights ago. I could feel my cheeks burning as I read further, feeling pathetic to know that he had read:

“I’ve never really felt like I belonged anywhere. My passion burns within a fire beside which no one warms their hands. I am a sensitive soul, though most people don’t know it. I’m a hopeless romantic who hides my passion from most of the world. Poetry provides an audience to which I can bare my soul and not be taken advantage of. People don’t see how deep I truly am. They skip a stone across the surface, but never watch how far it sinks.”

I closed the book, and wondered what I must have sounded like to Alfred. As I replaced the thick volume on my shelf, I decided it didn’t matter. So I’m a bit melodramatic and I write poetry, who cares? After all, you can’t chop up werewolves every day. A girl’s got to have a hobby. Lately, it would seem that my hobby had been finding the biggest jerks around and becoming involved with them. Some days I felt like looking in the mirror to make sure that “jackasses welcome” wasn’t written across my forehead.

*****

The one guy I felt fairly certain was not a jackass called at four o’clock the next day. “Sweet and sour pork, or kung pow chicken?” he asked when I answered the phone.

“Either one’s fine.”

“Good, cause I got both. They didn’t have sushi.”

Elijah and I talked while he stopped to get gas on his way to my house.

“Wait,” he said suddenly.

“What do you want?” I heard him ask.

There was a loud clattering noise that sounded like his cell phone hitting the ground. I stayed on the line, afraid to hang up, but not knowing what else to do. I heard a scuffle and two muffled voices arguing over where to put him. Elijah was being kidnapped! I felt helpless as I listened to them argue over whether or not he would suffocate in the trunk of their car. I listened intently, hoping Elijah’s attackers would be dumb enough to say where they were taking him. Just then, one of them noticed the phone. Elijah must have had me programmed in by name, because I heard the thug say, “It’s the monster hunter.”

I hung up and ran to my wardrobe. If they knew who I was, they were coming for me next. I had no intention of being unprepared. I slid into my leather cat-suit and began pulling on my many weapons. I wore my father’s long silver machete, which looked more like a short sword, in a sheath down my spine. Around my shoulders I wore a double holster. I’d had it custom made to fit three silver daggers on each side. This holster clipped onto a heavy belt that rode low on my hips, with a large silver buckle that had been sprayed black to avoid reflecting the light. Across each thigh, I wore an additional holster. Each carried a sharp silver blade. I’d left my rapier in the training room. Something told me I wouldn’t be fencing with these thugs.

As I placed my last two blades in sheathes along the inside of my knee-high boots, I heard a noise outside. From the upstairs window, I saw two men approach my front door. Damn Marcy and her stupid party. I needed Alfred and his high powered guns to back me up. It had not been a good day for me and it wasn’t about to be much better for these guys. They actually rang the doorbell. Since they’d had the balls to come to my front door, I answered it.

“Lilith Mercury?” the tallest one asked. He took in my weapons with a glance.

“That’s right. What can I do for you boys?”

“Come quietly,” the shorter guy made it a question. It earned him a sharp look from the tall one and gave me the opportunity I had hoped for.

I moved forward and delivered a flying knee to the crotch of the taller man. As he slumped forward, my elbow connected with the back of his skull with a sickening thud. The other man stood in stunned silence as I jump kicked him in the face and sent him flying into the azaleas near my front door. As I rummaged through their pockets for the keys to their car, something hit me in the back of the head so hard that I was lifted off the ground. The world became a dizzy nauseating swirl around me and I knew I was about to lose consciousness.

A man that I hadn’t seen when I took down the other two stood over me with an aluminum baseball bat. As I noticed bloody smears on the bat, my eyes began to lose focus. Even I couldn’t take a crack to the head with a baseball bat and not suffer. I’d live, but first, I was going to pass out.

*****

When I came to, I was lying on the floor of a plain room. By plain I mean no furniture, no windows, nothing. The whole room, walls included, was covered in pale blue tiles. It was a room made for torture, easily cleaned. From the throbbing pains in the back of my head, I knew better than to try to move. I was still down, but I’d begun to heal. I looked to my left, careful not to turn my head, and saw Elijah. He was chained to the floor by his right ankle, not too far from the door. He must have seen me open my eyes.

“Lilith,” he spoke softly. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” I whispered, afraid that if I spoke any louder my head would explode.

“I was afraid they’d killed you. I’ve been watching to make sure you kept breathing.”

“How long have we been here?”

“Maybe an hour.”

“Give me till morning,” I groaned. “I’ll get us out of here.” With that, I passed out again.

When I awoke several hours later, my head still hurt, but it was bearable. I attempted to roll over and found that I was bound by both wrists to two long, thick chains that were bolted to the wall near the floor. I could move around, but not much.

It looked as if all they had taken from Elijah was his phone. They’d even left a pair of chopsticks in his pocket. I guessed they didn’t see him as a threat. On the other hand, they had not only taken all of my blades, but my shoes, as well.

“How do you feel?” Elijah asked.

“You mean other than being cracked in the head with a bat and chained to the floor?” I replied sarcastically.

“Yeah.” He smiled. “Other than that.”

“Great,” I said as I took a closer look at my restraints. “You know this goes against my principles, right?” I noticed the mortar was cracked around the edges of my right shackle where it connected to the wall.

“What does?” Elijah asked.

I held up one wrist as I teased, “I never use restraints on the first date.”

He smiled and in spite of our surroundings it brightened my mood. I pointed to the chopsticks in Elijah’s pocket. “Can you pass me those?”

“Sure.” He looked confused, but slid me the chopsticks.

“Any idea why we’re here?” I asked as I inspected the mortar more closely.

“No clue,” Elijah answered. “A guy comes in about every hour or so.”

“What does he do?”

“He just looks at us. Sometimes he checks your pulse, then leaves.” I couldn’t reach the crack in the mortar with my hands, so I put one of the chopsticks between my toes, stretched out and began to chip it loose.

“Can’t you just rip these out of the wall?” Elijah pointed at his shackle.

“Probably, but do you have any idea how much noise that would make?”

“Oh, hadn’t thought of that.”

A few minutes later the short guy that I’d kicked in the face walked in. I looked at him more closely this time. He was about my height with dark hair and pale skin. He appeared to be in good shape, with a sleek athletic build. The guy might have been nice looking if it weren’t for the two black eyes he was sporting and the fact that his nose was obviously broken. He approached me with caution despite the chains. Apparently he wasn’t as stupid as I’d thought.

“How’s your head?” he asked in a surprisingly deep voice.

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” At least he was honest.

“Then why ask?”

“Because I was told you need to be fully recovered,” he replied.

“For what, torture?”

“Couldn’t say, but I’m not going to get close enough to look for myself.”

I laughed, but not like I was amused. “Well, my head still hurts, so that gives you plenty of time to go screw yourself.”

He gave me a nasty sneer before he turned on his heel and left the room.

“Do you think that’s wise, pissing them off like that?” Elijah asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” I said as I stretched back out to chip away the mortar.

“Why?”

I stopped for a second and looked at Elijah. I had been about to say, “Because they’ll never see tomorrow anyway.” Instead, I went back to work on loosening the shackle. It took several hours to loosen the heavy bolts from the wall. The short dark haired man came back in, but this time he went for Elijah. A gun was clearly visible pressed against the small of his back as he walked toward him. Elijah shot a pleading glace my way, and I knew that I couldn’t allow him to be taken away from me. One look at the other man said he had nothing good in store for Elijah.

“It’s me you want.” I decided to provoke him.

He turned to me.

“Before they do whatever it is they have planned.” I licked my lips. “Don’t you wanna touch me?” I motioned toward my body suggestively. “You know you want me,” I purred seductively. “I’ve seen the way you look at me.” I winked at Elijah as I said, “We can make him watch.”

Elijah looked horrified as the man began to walk toward me, but there was no way to let him know what I had in mind. He knew what my job was. I only hoped seeing me do that job wouldn’t change the way he looked at me. There was no time to think of another way. Once the dark haired man was within range, I snatched the chain free with a roar, hitting him across the face and cutting his cheek badly. I hit him with the chain again as I swung it so that it wrapped around his neck. I yanked him toward me and slammed his face into the wall, several times.

“Where are the keys?” I asked as I pressed him face down into the floor, strangling him. He motioned to his belt. I snatched the keys from his belt and let them hit the floor. My feet were cold and it pissed me off.

“Where the fuck are my shoes?” I growled.

He rolled his eyes toward the door.

“In the next room?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Are there more than two of you?” I let up so he could speak.

“No,” he whispered.

“If you tell me the truth, you might be the one I leave alive,” I taunted.

“There’s four,” he said quickly. “Two across the hall, and one at the front door.”

“You lied to me.” I choked him harder. “What do you say?” I leaned in closer, as if waiting to hear an apology. “What’s that? You’re a cocksucker?”

I broke his neck.

“Yeah, I thought so.”

This is who I am. I’m hard, because my job requires it. Could you imagine a soft werewolf hunter? I’d get killed in a heartbeat. Talking trash helps me to cope with the things I have to do. I suppose you could say I psych myself up for what I know is coming.

I unlocked my chains and tossed the keys to Elijah. He looked stunned. I knew he had seen worse things, but he’d never watched me do any of those things before. I couldn’t bear for him to look at me that way.

“Don’t look,” I said. “Don’t look at me.”

I took the dark haired man’s gun and checked to be sure it was loaded.

“Wait here while I check out the room across the hall,” I said as I pressed Elijah back against the wall. To my relief, he didn’t withdraw from my touch. He still looked shocked, but nodded his agreement.

I listened at the door for a moment and distinctly heard two voices inside. I kicked the door in quickly as I shot one guy in the back of the head. Another rushed me, and I caught him in the chest three times. I found my shoes, but my blades were still missing. When I went back for Elijah, he seemed to have regained his composure. After all, he was a cop, and this wasn’t the first dead body he’d seen. It wasn’t even the first body he’d seen that I was responsible for, but it was the first time he’d ever seen me harm anyone. I couldn’t blame the poor guy for being shocked. He was no doubt wondering how he’d gone from kung pow chicken and old movies to watching me break some guy’s neck on a cold tile floor. Not the way he wanted to spend his weekend, I’m sure.

As best we could tell, there was no one else inside the small building. We snuck out the back and around the side without encountering anyone. I put my hand against Elijah’s chest and motioned around the corner. There was a guard standing there, I could smell him. The wind was blowing just right to carry the scent of his cologne to where we stood. The building must have been sound proof for him to have not come running when I’d shot the two men inside. One look at the surrounding woods told me we were in the middle of nowhere, but I was still afraid that someone might hear if I shot him. I passed the gun to Elijah and removed the shoe lace from my right boot. I moved slowly toward the unsuspecting guard, careful not to make a sound. Just as I looked around the corner, he turned away to light a cigarette, and I struck.

Before he knew what hit him, I’d strangled the guard and begun to drag his body out of sight. As I re-laced my boot, I looked up at Elijah. He was obviously trying to remain neutral about seeing me strangle someone. I knew a cop face when I saw one. It was one of those looks that said, “No matter what happens, I will not think about it now.” There would be plenty of time to have nightmares later.

I fished some car keys out of the guard’s pocket. “Let’s hope there’s a parking lot on the other side, because I don’t see anything in front,” I told Elijah.

He nodded and began to move down the wall toward the back of the building. We found more than cars waiting for us on the other side. Emerging from the woods all around was what could only be described as a pack of werewolves. There were at least thirty of them, not enough for a true pack, but what else do you call a bunch of werewolves? They were still in human form, but there was no mistaking the current of sex and violence that radiated from them. You could almost reach out and touch the scent of lycanthrope in the air. I let one of them take me by surprise and wrestle me face down to the ground.

“We’ve been given orders to detain you and your little boy toy at all costs,” a female voice said. “Not so tough without your weapons, are you?” the voice taunted, still out of my sight. Whoever she was, she wasn’t the one holding me, but she was close.

I turned toward Elijah, where he struggled against a choke hold from another female lycanthrope. There was no easy way out of this. I looked into his innocent blue eyes and knew that the only way to escape was to make the one person who’d never looked at me like a monster change his mind.

A pair of spiked vinyl boots appeared in front of my face. “I’ll never know what Marco sees in you,” the voice continued from directly above me.

As I laughed I heard my voice drop lower, into a deep and evil rumble before I replied, “Please, let me show you.”

The werewolf on my back was caught by surprise as I flung him off of me. My eyes began to burn, and I knew that they had turned to amber. The werewolf that I’d just dislodged from my back lunged at me. I threw an uppercut as razor sharp claws shot from my fingertips, catching him under the chin.

Pieces of his throat landed on the ground beside him as I ripped my nails across his wind pipe. I rode his body to the ground while I stabbed him through the ribs with the claws on my other hand. I rose slowly. Blood dripped from my hands as I looked into the face of the woman who’d taunted me. She might have been attractive had it not been for the look of complete hatred on her face.

She was taller than me and thin, with long, curly red hair that was beginning to frizz, thanks to the humidity. Although I thought it was creepy that Marco was dating someone who slightly resembled me, I noted with some satisfaction that my breasts were bigger. She had to be Marco’s girlfriend. There was no other explanation for that level of hatred in a woman I’d never met before.

“I can’t believe he named that goddamned club after you,” she spat.

Yep, she was Marco’s girlfriend. I sneered at her with nothing short of malice. I don’t know if it was some hidden feelings for Marco, or just the alpha female in me, but I wanted to hurt this woman. What she said about the club had only confirmed my suspicion. That would explain why I’d sensed so many werewolves that night. Marco owned club Red.

“You must feel special,” I said silkily.

She growled as her eyes turned wolf amber and I felt my blood boil. How dare she threaten me? I barely kept the growl from my voice as I said, “Come get it then ... Bitch.”

Just as I’d expected, she lost her temper and swung wild. I leaned into her as I covered my head and rammed my elbow into the underside of her biceps. She yelped like an injured dog as I grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to put my left knee through her side. A rage such as I’d never felt before broke over me. It was the rage that I’d held in over the past week, watching Marcy flirt with Alfred, imagining what he must have been dreaming when he’d called her name. For all I knew he had spent the night at her house last night, and now this bitch was going to get in my face about Marco? I should have screwed his brains out when I’d had the chance. Maybe then I would’ve at least gotten some sort of satisfaction. Oh, but I would have satisfaction, if I had to take it out of her hide. Enough was enough, and I’d more than reached my limit for bullshit and bitchy women.

I grabbed her by the hair and snatched violently to the right, knocking her into three other werewolves. A tall man with claws for hands ran toward me. I dropped to the ground and delivered a brutal heel palm to his left knee, shattering it so badly that the bone protruded from his jeans. He howled as he fell to the ground, where I broke his neck with a loud snap. The redheaded she-wolf staggered to her feet and lunged at me. I caught her in the chest with my boot, just as hard as I possibly could. She coughed and blood dribbled down her chin as she fell back to the ground.

The woman who’d been strangling Elijah flung him at the ground with an eerie inhuman howl as she began to transform. In mid-transformation, her face suddenly exploded and she collapsed. It took me a minute to realize that Elijah, who was still armed, had shot her through the back of the head.

Marco’s disgruntled girlfriend struggled to her feet again. Her otherwise pretty face lost some of its appeal as she began to grow fangs. I decided that I wasn’t going to wait for her to come at me again as I charged forward and grabbed her by the hair so hard you could hear it tear loose from her scalp. Over and over again, I slammed her into the ground, picked her up by the hair, and slammed her again. Chunks of her frizzy red curls began to fall out in my monstrous hands. With each fall, I heard her bones break, like a wooden toy cracking beneath pressure. I could hear the howls of the werewolves around me, and gunfire echoed in my ears, but I kept slamming her, flinging her limp body like a filthy ragdoll. I dropped her to the ground, threw back my head and screamed. It was the same rage filled battle cry that I’d heard on the first full moon after my attack.

I grabbed her again and began throwing her at the crowd. I hurled her mercilessly into them, just to watch her bounce off again, and again. When at last I threw her down, she just lay there, broken, in a twisted heap. The crowd of werewolves had drawn back, whether they were afraid, or just shocked, I couldn’t tell. I straddled her waist, propped a clawed hand on either side of her head, and looked at the pack around me, some still in human form, others well into the change.

“I’ve got a message for you to deliver to Marco,” I growled threateningly. And without further ado, I broke her neck so hard her head spun around backward to face the crowd.

“Oh no, love, not Marco,” said a deep voice with a thick Australian accent.

Bade Garren stepped through the pack into the clearing. I growled low and menacing as I bared my teeth. Bade wasn’t exactly handsome, but he wasn’t unattractive either. He and Marco were like opposite sides of the same sadistic coin. He had shoulder length hair of the palest gold and a creamy white complexion. They were both muscular though Bade was perhaps an inch or two taller. To see them standing together was enough to conjure thoughts of hedonistic pleasures in the most faithful lover.

Bade Garren’s body was a masochist’s paradise. He had a flare for the dramatic and was into S&M, so his wardrobe was no surprise. Tight black vinyl pants clung to his muscular legs like a caress. He wore a flowing black satin jacket, held open to reveal the white perfection of his chest. Through one nipple a silver stud glinted in the fading light of dusk. Werewolves have an extreme allergy to silver. Direct exposure to the internal organs, such as being shot with a silver bullet, almost always results in death. The stud must have caused him constant pain and I’m sure that’s why he wore it.

I decided to play with him a bit if I could, to buy enough time to recover my strength. If I did not fight our way out, we would die in that clearing. Elijah was out of ammunition and I was outnumbered. Not to insult him, but Elijah was no match for a fully grown werewolf.

I retracted my claws as I rose to my feet, but my eyes were still blazing amber.

“Bade,” I purred, putting as much sex as possible into my voice. “I would have expected you to keep better company,” I said as I kicked the woman’s body at my feet.

“Think highly of me do you?” he asked. His sarcastic smirk added a charm that I would have liked to ignore.

I remembered how I had let my feelings flow to Alfred and wondered for a moment if it would be possible to do the same to Bade. I concentrated on what I wanted him to feel, what I wanted to be in my voice when I spoke again, and it felt as if a door opened in my mind. Something warm and hot flowed beneath my skin, giving me a fever that I had previously only felt behind my eyes when they turned. It was like flipping a switch in my head, but instead of turning on a light, I had turned on what could only be described as pure sex. I was unsure of this new “talent,” but I wasn’t going to waste my one chance of delaying Bade and whatever it was he had planned.

“I have never put you in the same category as Marco,” I said, and my voice no longer sounded like my own. It was deep, earthy and sensual, a bedroom voice in every sense of the word. Truthfully, I thought much worse of him. But, when I spoke, I was delighted to find that at least some of what I had intended was felt by the wolves around me. I heard a few who were closest to me gasp in response to the sound of my voice.

I moved closer to Bade. No one tried to stop me. As I spoke, I felt my voice take on a hypnotic quality. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” I whispered as my voice flowed over the crowd like silk.

Bade visibly jumped when I spoke, his eyes rolled and his lids fluttered slightly.

“How do you do that?” he said, breathlessly.

“I’m not doing anything ... yet.” I caressed his bare chest, leaving a bloody trail across his pale skin.

“Lying bitch.” He winced as I moved around his silver nipple piercing.

I moved closer to his chest. My lips hovered mere centimeters above his nipple as I breathed against his skin, “What reason would I have to lie?”

“What reason would you have to tell the truth?” he pointed out.

I bit down on his skin and tugged on the piercing, not enough to cause pain, just a little pinch. He threw his head back and cried out.

“Why have you brought me here?” I asked as I looked up into his pale blue eyes. His full pink lips parted as I bit harder, bringing a growl from his human throat that was frightening and out of place.

“I need a sample of your blood.” Bade placed his hands on my shoulders, his nails were beginning to form into claws and they bit into my flesh. I have a high tolerance for pain, and in small amounts I sometimes enjoy it. But this was a pain that I was not expecting and for a moment, my concentration wavered.

Bade looked down at me with my teeth attached to his nipple. The grin that spread across his angelic features was nothing short of evil.

“Clever,” he purred appreciatively. “But it won’t do you any good, love.”

Without waiting to see what would happen next, I bit down on the silver stud as hard as I could and ripped it from his flesh. He roared as he flung me away from his chest. His claws that were dug into my shoulders got stuck in the leather cat-suit and ripped it completely from my upper body. I was left with only ragged leather sleeves clinging to my arms.

Bade stormed toward me menacingly, his face contorted with furry as he stood above me. I spat the stud at him, with a bit of his nipple still attached. He backhanded me across the cheek and I thought my head would explode. I rolled to my stomach and tried to get to my feet, but he grabbed me around the hips, digging his claws into me again. I leapt into the air as I did a rolling dive at the ground. I felt the last of my suit being ripped from me, but it got stuck around my boots. The force of my forward jump had snatched Bade to the ground. He began climbing up my body as I struggled to free myself from the cat-suit stuck around my ankles.

It sounded as if a battle was raging in the distance behind me, but I couldn’t turn to see. By that time, Bade had me pressed to the ground with my arms above my head. Having super human strength has its advantages when your opponent is an ordinary man. But when faced with a male werewolf I was forcefully reminded that I am still a woman, and often times less strong.

I bucked forcefully under his weight, causing his body to bounce.

“Hold still,” he growled as he fought to reach his pocket while trying to hold my wrists with one hand. Having no desire to find out what was in Bade’s pocket, I kept bucking as hard as I could. The only real disadvantage of that was with each bounce his heavily muscled body knocked the breath out of me.

“You’re heavy,” I panted.

He laughed. The sound surprised me. In the midst of what was now clearly a battle, I had not expected to hear laughter.

“I’d say that’s the least of your worries, love,” he grunted, still struggling to hold me down.

Gunshots echoed through the woods and werewolves howled with a mixture of anger and fear. Alfred had come for me. There was no other explanation. I wondered what had become of Elijah, and the thought made me more desperate to escape. I began to jerk as violently as possible with my hands and feet restrained.

Just then someone snatched Bade from atop me. I glimpsed a dark hairy figure that could only have been a very large werewolf, and judging from its anatomy, it was male. There was something oddly familiar about the color of its hair, but before I could put the pieces together, I was cracked in the back of the head again, and again I was lifted from the ground by the blow.

“Son of a bitch,” I moaned as I rolled over to face the same bastard who’d nailed me with the bat the day before.

His self-satisfied sneer was too much to endure. Extending my claws once more, I snatched him off his feet. I meant to kill him before I passed out. My feet were still bound by the half of my cat-suit around my ankles, so I began to pull myself up his body, using my claws to gain leverage.

He started to change, but I was already strangling him. When he was almost unconscious, I rolled off him, grabbed the bat, and began whacking him in the forehead. The world swam around me and my head bobbed forward of its own accord as I growled, “How-do-you-like-that-you-son-of-a-bitch.”

Last I remember, his forehead was clearly dented. I looked up, and had only a second to realize that a very large boot was coming straight at my already battered head.

*****

I awoke to find myself in unfamiliar surroundings. After blinking a few times, I realized I was lying on the sofa in Alfred’s lab. I tried to sit up. The pain in my head was instant and overwhelming, a cruel assault on what was left of my senses. I had a feeling of movement behind me and could only hope it was Alfred. After a few seconds of holding my breath, I began to sense his familiar presence. It was such a comfort that I nearly cried. For the first time in a few days, I was alone with someone whom I was not trying to kill, and they were not trying to kill me.

“Bade,” I rasped.

I found my voice barely audible and my throat dry. Alfred was instantly looking over me. He sat down beside me, placing a cool cloth over my forehead. I saw concern in his dark eyes. I also noticed for the first time the beginnings of crow’s feet, those delicate little bastards that start their walk across our faces somewhere between middle age and death. I thought about how often I made Alfred worry, and knew they were my fault.

“That bastard,” I tried again to speak.

“No kidding,” he said blandly.

“Will I live?”

“You’ve already begun to heal.” That was good news to me, but Alfred seemed angry. I didn’t understand. I’d been beaten worse before.

Chapter Seven

I slid my hand down the length of my thigh underneath the blanket that covered me and realized Alfred had found me naked in the woods with my pants around my ankles. Surely he didn’t think I would be this calm had I been raped? I thought I would ease his mind. I reached up to where his hand still rested lightly on my forehead.

“I’ll be okay,” I said.

He snatched his hand away and stood up.

“I’m sure you will,” he snapped.

That bastard! Okay, now I was pissed. I tried again to sit up and follow him. I stumbled over the edge of the sofa, my naked ass smacking the floor. The effect was somewhat less than the graceful ascent I had hoped for. I snatched the blanket around me and stalked toward Alfred’s rigidly set shoulders.

“What the crap is your problem?” I asked his back. “Hey, tall, dark, and asshole, I’m talking to you!”

No one else unraveled me like Alfred did. How dare he ignore me? “Prick,” I breathed as I turned away. Oh, that got a reaction.

“I’m a prick?” he yelled, making it a question.

“Yeah,” I answered, deliberately misunderstanding him.

He stomped furiously toward me. You could see small veins popping out on the side of his neck.

“I save your ass, your naked ass, and I’m the prick.” This time he stated it as if it were a fact that he wasn’t at all happy about.

I saw an angry fire dancing behind his eyes, and something else that I couldn’t name. If I could touch him again, maybe ... No. I had never tried to read Alfred, and now was not the time to start. I didn’t know what was up his ass, but I refused to invade his private thoughts. That was one of the reasons that I rarely touched him. I looked at Alfred then, his full mouth, and tousled hair. I gazed into his soulful brown eyes, eyes which blazed with the intensity of emotions that went beyond anger, and realized that I regretted not touching him.

“I saw your sketches while you were gone,” he blurted out.

“You went through my things?” I was shocked. I’d never expected this behavior from Alfred.

“I knocked it off of your table. But, once it was open, yes, I looked.”

I knew what he was mad about. There were at least a dozen sketches of Marco in that book, many of them nude. I suppose that finding nude drawings of the bad guy in your partner’s room would be enough to get anyone worked up. In my defense, I did not have carnal knowledge of Marco. They were purely from my imagination, and it was quite active.

He must have guessed by my reaction that I now understood the problem.

“You hunt the bad guys, Lilith. You don’t fuck them.”

My hand reacted to the accusation before I could think of what to say. The sound of slapping his face was shockingly loud. He didn’t even flinch. He just stared at me with the accusation now clear on his face. A small red right hand began to appear across the smooth olive skin of his left cheek. That had to sting, but Alfred didn’t let on.

I stood there, stunned, not knowing what to say. All the years I had known him, and I had only then realized how badly I wanted to touch this man. Even the smack of my hand across his face was exciting. I felt a flush creeping up my neck and abruptly turned my back on him. To my surprise, I realized that not only did I want to touch him, but I felt feverish at the thought. If he had seen me blush, I hoped he mistook it for embarrassment.

Alfred knew that I was rarely, if ever embarrassed, but we had never been in this situation before. Maybe he wouldn’t think about it too hard. For that matter, maybe I could stop thinking about it hard, if you know what I mean. I had been cracked in the head with a bat twice in as many days. I should not have been thinking about sex.

I started walking toward the stairs. I had to get out of there before I made a worse fool of myself. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I realized that I’d never really thought of Alfred that way, even after we’d spent the night together.

I’d flirted with him in a joking way, it’s just my personality. But before that night, I’d never really thought of Alfred as a woman thinks of a man. I cared for him, and I’d certainly felt affection, but there was another word to describe what I’d felt only moments before, lust.

The fact that I now wanted to do things to Alfred that I couldn’t even articulate left me speechless. That was quite a novelty for me. I never knew when to shut up.

“Where are you going?”

I was halfway up the stairs.

“To bed,” I answered, trying not to reveal my thoughts.

“You can’t.”

“Excuse me?”

“Elijah is in your room.”

I’d forgotten about Elijah. I must have been hit harder than I’d thought. How awful of me to have not asked about him.

“Is he all right?”

“He will be. He has a slight concussion, and he’s pretty banged up, but he’ll live.”

“Why my bed?” I couldn’t resist asking.

“Because the man has a head injury and your bed is more comfortable.”

I couldn’t help but wonder if that was a sneaky way of getting me to spend the night with him, or just a wicked reminder that he knew how comfortable my bed was. Slowly, I walked back down the stairs, not because I was reluctant to return, but if I moved too quickly, I still felt very dizzy.

“Where should I sleep?” I asked wearily.

Alfred smiled with an expression I’d never seen him wear before, but it suited him somehow. It was the look of a man who knew exactly what he wanted.

“You can stay in my room,” he said with a flirtatious grin.

I stared at him blankly, waiting for more of an explanation. Finally, he looked back at me and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll be staying down here.”

I think I was actually upset more at the thought of him avoiding me than if he had deliberately planned to get me alone.

“What’s really bothering you, Alfred?” I sighed. “We can’t live like this. Whether we feel anything for each other or not, we still have to work with one another.”

He turned around and leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms in a gesture of obvious frustration. As he tried to find the right words, he began to run his fingers through his hair, which told me more than anything how frustrated he really was. It was a nervous gesture that I’d seen Alfred use for years when he and my father occasionally butted heads.

“It’s just that—” He took a deep breath and started over. “Before Kathryn came by ... I thought we had something.” He ran his fingers through his hair again as he said, “I felt something. I thought the feeling was mutual.”

It was. But, that’s not what I said. There was something I needed to know first. “I came downstairs that night. You were asleep on the couch.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

I couldn’t keep the anger out of my voice as I answered, “I wouldn’t want to disturb your dreams.”

He looked confused. “My what?”

“Why were you on the couch anyway?” I pressed, ignoring his bewildered look.

“Wasn’t it obvious?!” He sounded irritated again. “I fell asleep waiting for you to come downstairs.”

It felt like someone had thrown cold water in my face. He had fallen asleep waiting for me. I felt like a fool. We had so obviously been on the same page that night. Why didn’t I wake him? That reminded me. “If you were waiting for me, then why were you calling Marcy’s name in your sleep?”

He looked thunderstruck. “I was having a nightmare!” Alfred looked as if something had just occurred to him. “What were you doing downstairs?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“The hell it doesn’t.” His next words were spoken more softly. “You came back for me, didn’t you? You came back for me, heard me say her name, and left.” He’d come to his own conclusion.

I just looked at him for a moment, my head beginning to pound again. “What would you have done?” I asked.

“I probably would have woke you up and had a fit, like I just did about the pictures, that you never explained, by the way.” His words were still accusatory, but the anger was gone from his voice.

“You know I’m not sleeping with him.”

“Yes, but you’re not sleeping with me either, and quite frankly, I’m jealous.”

“That I’m not sleeping with you?”

“That I’m not the one you think about when you’re alone at night.”

I must have looked as surprised as I felt.

“I’m not jealous that I’m not in your bed. I’m jealous because I’m not in your heart.”

Those softly spoken words melted me in ways the hot Florida sun never could.

“Marco isn’t in my heart,” I whispered as I moved closer to Alfred.

“Then where is he?” He added more softly, “Where am I?”

I decided to be honest. “I’m not sure where you are, but Marco’s not a part of the picture.”

“Not even in the background?”

He smiled as I ran my hands inside his coat, leaning into him.

“Not even the ugly brown paper on the back of the frame,” I said.

He cradled the back of my aching head in his hand and I went limp in his arms.

“Lilith,” he said. His voice sounded far away. “Lilith, you need to stay conscious. You’ve been hit too hard too many times.”

He pulled me more tightly against his chest, and I felt the blanket slide down my back. I had overexerted myself when I lost my temper. I was tough, but I wasn’t invincible. Maybe one day I’d get that through my gratefully thick skull. I felt my legs growing weaker and knew I couldn’t stand on my own. Unfortunately, when I get hit that hard in the head it seems to bring out the comedian in me. But, it wasn’t like Alfred hasn’t experienced my twisted humor before.

“What can I say?” I looked up into his eyes and smiled. “You make me weak in the knees.”

He laughed, but his eyes looked sad. “If you hadn’t been nearly bludgeoned to death, I might be able to take that seriously.”

“I haven’t been bludgeoned.”

He smiled kindly at my slurred words. “Yeah,” he said, “I think you have.”

“What should I do to stay awake?” This would have been the perfect opportunity to suggest something inappropriate, but because he is a gentleman, Alfred said, “You could start by letting me wash the blood out of your hair.”

“I’ve got blood in my hair?”

He nodded, still smiling at the confused look on my face.

“Is it mine?” I asked, horrified.

“Not all of it.”

I wrinkled my nose at the thought of spending the night with blood in my hair.

“But, I can’t stand up to take a shower.”

Yet again, this would have been the perfect opportunity to suggest something naughty. Alfred kissed my forehead as he said, “Let me help you.” Ah, perhaps there was hope for him yet. He leaned forward and pulled the blanket back around me. Alfred knew that I was far from modest, but I appreciated the gesture. He swept me gracefully into his arms and carried me toward the stairs.

“You’re in luck,” he teased. “My back just started feeling better.”

Alfred’s downstairs bedroom was the second largest in the house. It connected to another bathroom that, though not as big as mine, was quite nice. The bathroom also connected to a guest bedroom that was rarely, if ever used. I wondered why Alfred hadn’t put Elijah in the guest room, because I wasn’t buying that my bed was just more comfortable. Like the bathroom upstairs, this one also had a garden tub, but what it had that mine did not was Jacuzzi jets. Just the thought of all that warm water massaging against my aching body made me feel even weaker.

Alfred laid me across his bed, walked to the bathroom, and started running water in the tub. I liked Alfred’s room, though I rarely saw it. His room was decorated in shades of brown and cream, with the occasional dark chocolate or white appearing here and there. A large stone fireplace sat against one wall, it was connected by a central chimney to the smaller fireplace in my bedroom upstairs. The only thing that was missing was a bear skin rug. I tried to sit up, but found that the room spun in a way that was not at all pleasant.

I groaned.

“I know you’re not trying to get up,” Alfred’s voice scolded through the open door.

I lay back against the sheets, defeated.

“How come I could walk halfway up the stairs on my own, and now I can’t even lift my head?”

“Adrenaline,” he answered simply.

“Adrenaline?”

“Yes,” he said, walking back into the room to stand over me. “About how pissed off would you say that you were when you got up off the couch?”

I considered this for a moment and decided to accept his explanation.

“I was livid.”

“Come here,” he said soothingly as he swept me into his arms.

Alfred carried me into the bathroom, my long blanket dragging the floor like a cape. My head didn’t hurt as badly, but I seemed to be incapable of standing without support. He helped me to sit on the side of the tub before looking at me with a mischievous smile as he knelt before me.

“You’ll need to lose this,” he said, tugging gently on the blanket.

I braced myself against his shoulders and stood shakily, letting the blanket slide the length of my body to pool around my feet. I’m normally very self-conscious about my scars, but it wasn’t as if Alfred hadn’t seen them before. He had seen the vicious injury first hand and compared to that, the scars were nothing.

“Better?” I asked.

“Much,” he said, smiling.

I sat back down and slid my feet into the water, moaning as the heat soothed my aching calf muscles. Alfred wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly against his chest, but careful not to touch my breasts.

“Do you think you could sit up long enough for me to get undressed?”

I tried to turn my head to look at him, but a sharp pain near my temple changed my mind.

“Undressed? You’re getting in with me?”

“How else do you expect me to wash your hair? You can’t sit up on your own. You’re barely conscious.”

He did have a point. I wasn’t entirely sure I could sit up long enough for him to get in. So, I decided not to argue.

“All right.” I slid slowly down into the water and propped my arms on the side of the tub, leaning my cheek against my forearm. It was the only way I could keep from sliding all the way under. I watched Alfred begin to unbutton his deep purple shirt that I’d only then noticed went every well with his olive skin. Never had I had such a craving for caramel and been so helpless to do anything about it.

“Are you going to watch?” he inquired softly.

“I can’t turn my head without getting dizzy,” I answered honestly, but with a smirk that I couldn’t seem to control.

He walked around behind me with a smile, and I heard his clothes fall to the floor. As I felt Alfred slide in the tub behind me, my heart beat faster, causing my head to throb. He reached around my ribs and pulled me back against him with a splash. Drifting in and out of consciousness, I took pleasure in the feel of his long fingers as they massaged their way through my short hair with an expert tenderness that I had not expected.

When the last of the blood had been washed away, I half turned in his arms, laying my face against his chest.

“I’m I clean?”

“Your hair is, but I’m afraid I can’t do anything about your mind.”

I laughed softly, careful not to move my head.

“I can barely move, Alfred. I think you can safely assume that I’m not going to molest you.”

“Some days, you take the fun out of living,” he teased as he ran his fingers through my wet hair and began to massage my scalp.

“Mmmm.”

“Stop, you’re turning me on.” I could hear the laughter in his voice and it made me smile.

As I looked at his handsome face, I realized that my eyes were beginning to lose focus. There was something that I wanted to tell him while I most likely would not be held accountable for whatever I might say.

I rested my cheek back against his chest as I said, “I had a dream about you.”

Alfred knew about my dream journal. I had mentioned to him before, though not in any great detail how most of my dreams had a way of coming true, whether literally, or symbolically, and I’d always been fascinated by dream interpretation. He was very still as I told him about the dream, especially the part where he went into the water, knowing that he would sink, but thought that wouldn’t be so terrible a fate, if he were only closer to me when he went under. Deciding not to skip the details, I also told him how I had seen myself through his eyes. I also let slip how I had told Kat about the dream and she said that it was only further proof that he wanted me. Her exact words were, “If he knew he had a chance you wouldn’t be able to beat him loose with a stick.”

He laughed at that last part. “She’s right. If I thought I had a snowball’s chance in Hell, I’d have been waiting outside your door the other night, instead of on the couch. Although, that might have been the most profoundly stupid thing I’ve done to gain a woman’s attention thus far.”

“There are so many reasons why I shouldn’t get involved with you,” I said.

“Name one.”

I couldn’t. Maybe it was the head injury, or maybe I just didn’t have a good enough reason to not notice how great he looked, wet and naked, and right in front of me. I was beginning to ramble and went on to say things that I probably shouldn’t have.

“I’m sorry that I never touch you,” I apologized sincerely, running my wet fingers through his hair.

“Why is that?” he asked softly.

“It’s not that I’ve never wanted to touch you,” I went on when I should have stopped. “I have very much wanted to know what it feels like to touch you. But I was afraid that if I knew, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off.”

I felt slightly embarrassed by this confession, but only until I heard his response. “I would very much like to know what you taste like, but I’m afraid if I knew ... I might eat you alive.”

Damn, he was good. Where was this man three and a half years ago when I’d met Bradley? I was struck with a profound sense of loss as I realized, he was right here. The whole time I’d spent my love and my time on some jerk that didn’t deserve the effort, here was a nice man who seemed to genuinely care for me. Stupid is too mild of a word for what I had been.

Alfred cradled my head in his hand as he leaned in to kiss me. He paused, hovering above my lips for a few seconds. I think somehow both of us knew that with that contact, things would change. His lips were warm and tender as they brushed gently against mine. I heard myself sigh and leaned into his embrace. For the first time, I understood how much I had wanted, no needed for Alfred to hold me like this. My hands seemed to move of their own accord from his chest to his shoulders, pulling him closer to me. My arms had been the only thing keeping my bare breasts from touching him. With that obstacle removed I pressed myself against him, my nipples hardening against the roughness of the hair on his chest.

The kiss deepened, causing him to press slightly harder against the back of my head. I moaned, but not in the way he had expected, I’m sure.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, the pupils of his dark eyes dilated with desire.

I offered him a weak smile as I said, “Don’t take this as rejection, but I’ve got a headache.”

He laughed, a deep and knowledgeable sound that seemed a foreign thing coming from Alfred. It was the sort of laugh that says, “I know you want me.”

“Don’t worry,” he whispered as he kissed my lips more softly. “I’m not going to jump you.”

“You’re not?” I pulled back to see his reaction.

“No.” He smiled. “As long as I’ve waited, I’d prefer you to be up to the task.”

“How long have you waited?” I asked, more seriously than I’d intended.

“Too long,” he said, as he pulled my body against him, running his other hand down my spine. I ached with the need to press myself against him, to touch as much of him as possible. However, my head felt like it had a death metal band beating around inside it.

I groaned with disappointment as I slid back down, placing my cheek against his chest. Alfred held me tightly against him, cradling me as if I would disappear should he let go.

“I’ve got to get my mind on something else,” I mumbled, my face still pressed against him.

“Well,” he sighed, “you never told me your opinion of the dream.”

“My interpretation, you mean?”

“Mmhm.”

I thought about the dream for a moment, my brain seemed to be inside a heavy fog, but I remembered the important parts.

“Water,” I began, “is always symbolic of emotions. Like, if it were rain, then emotions would be pouring down on you. But in this case, they were nearly concealed, beneath the surface, coming up through the floor.”

I paused for a moment before continuing, “You were trying to find a light in the dark ... and these emotions, you were sinking in them, they overwhelmed you.”

I pulled back enough to see his face when I asked, “Do you really see me that way?”

Alfred gave me a smile that warmed me in places the hot water could never reach.

“I think you’re the only one who doesn’t,” he said.

His response surprised me.

“But, I’m scarred,” I said.

He placed his hand against the side of my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

“Your most devastating scars are not worn on the outside,” he said.

Not knowing what to say, I lowered my eyes. Alfred put his hand underneath my chin, and turned me back to face him. “You are not a ruined beauty,” he whispered kindly. “I see the way you hide your scars. From everyone else, that’s fine, but not from me, you don’t need to hide from me. Every time you let me catch a glimpse I think you’re secretly trying to horrify me, to prove that you are a monster, because in your mind, you look like one.”

Alfred was right. All this time, I thought he was oblivious to what was going on around him, but I was wrong. He may have seen more of me than I did. Just when I thought we had finally changed to a subject that didn’t arouse me, he kissed me again.

“You meant to get my mind off sex, remember?”

He pressed his lips against my forehead in a gesture that made me feel pitiful and lost. “Don’t take this as rejection,” he teased, “but, maybe you should put some clothes on.”

I laughed. “You’re the only man who’s ever asked me to put clothes on.”

“Well,” he said, “you’re the only woman I’ve ever made that suggestion to.”

I splashed away from him to prop on the tub again as I said sarcastically, “Oh, I feel so special.”

“You should,” he said sternly, “I would have just molested anyone else.”

I snickered. “Don’t make me laugh, it hurts.”

“If I didn’t care so much about you, that’s not the only thing that would be hurting by now.”

That made me laugh before I could stop myself. “Alfred!” I scolded, cradling my aching head in my hands. “Are you trying to kill me?”

He laughed again, echoing that deep and seductive rumble that I’d noticed before as I propped my head against the tub again. He started to get out of the tub, smiled at me and said, “No peeking.”

“You’re kidding right? If I don’t get to touch, the least I can do is look.”

“You should have looked when you had the chance,” he teased.

“That’s not fair. I couldn’t see through the bubbles,” I protested.

He looked at me and crossed his arms with an expression that said it didn’t matter how much I argued the matter, he wasn’t putting on a show for me.

“Fine,” I sighed, closing my eyes.

I heard Alfred climbing out of the tub and after a few moments, couldn’t control my urge to look. I opened my eyes just in time to see him take his chocolate colored bathrobe and swing it around his shoulders. The view from the back was so good, I wished I’d opened my eyes in time to see the front. The lovely caramel of his skin glowed with moisture, causing the light to reflect off the perfectly formed muscles of his back. Alfred was in better shape than I had suspected. It was a shame what his clothes concealed. His legs were as nicely toned as his back, but it was his ass that I couldn’t keep my eyes off. Alfred had a beautiful ass. I smiled to myself as I observed the lovely muscular dimples flex near his hip as he half turned to tie his robe.

“What are you smiling at?” he asked, turning back to me.

“Nice ass,” I said, feeling some satisfaction when he blushed. “Any chance I could see the rest?”

“Not tonight.” He winked, as he retrieved a towel from the linen closet built into the wall. “You’re injured, remember?”

Making a conscious decision to be wicked, I reached out, trying to find the switch in my mind I had flipped when dealing with Bade earlier that evening. I felt the same warm rush through my body I’d felt before as I replied, “Give me till morning.”

He took a shaky breath before asking, “What the hell was that?”

“I’m not sure yet. Did you like it?”

Alfred smiled, looking unsure of how to proceed with the conversation. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

I smiled provocatively, relishing the opportunity to throw his own smartass remark back in his face. “If I were trying to seduce you, you wouldn’t have to ask.”

“Fair enough,” he said, placing a large black towel on the edge of the tub.

A rush of energy seemed to flow out of me as I let go of the seductive power I had tapped into. I felt weaker than before. Apparently it took effort to be a sexual deviant. Alfred helped me to stand while he wrapped the towel around my body. I felt cold without either Alfred or the hot water to keep me warm.

I shivered slightly as I stepped onto the fuzzy rug beside the tub.

“Would you like me to dry you?” Alfred asked.

“And have you get a cheap thrill from running your hands all over me? I don’t think so.”

“It wouldn’t be cheap,” he insisted. “Come on then,” he said, smiling. “I’ve got another solution.”

Alfred carried me back into the bedroom, removed my towel and spread it across the foot of his king size bed.

“This is your solution?” I asked skeptically. “Get me naked again?”

He laughed. “Just lie across the towel and shut up.”

“Ooo, I like it when you’re forceful,” I teased.

I crawled slowly onto the bed, my head still spinning, but improving slowly. I stretched out face down across the towel, resting my cheek against my hands. I heard Alfred rummaging around under the bathroom sink.

“What are you doing?” I asked, without turning to look.

“Ssh,” he said.

Well, I didn’t know where to put being told to shut up twice in under five minutes. So, I shut up. He came back a few minutes later with a blow dryer.

“You leave me no choice,” he said grimly as he looked for an outlet close by.

“Are you gonna blow me?” I joked.

He gave me a look that said in no uncertain terms I should stop while I was ahead.

“Sorry,” I said, still laughing. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Try,” he replied, attempting to sound stern, but failing miserably due in part to the grin he couldn’t wipe off his face.

“How’s your head?” he asked as he turned on the dryer.

“Better, I think.”

I’m not sure if it was the warm air across my skin, or the soothing low hum of the dryer that relaxed me so drastically, but I was nearly asleep when Alfred said, “Want me to dry your hair?”

“Sure.” I stretched, catlike and rolled over.

Alfred sat cross legged on the bed, placing my head on his lap. I pulled the towel over me, more to hold in the warmth than to cover up. As he rubbed over the sore spot on the back of my skull I asked, “Did I get him?”

“The guy who hit you?”

“Yeah.”

“If you mean the guy lying beside you on the ground, whose face looked like hamburger, yeah, you got him.”

“Good,” I said nastily. “Bastard hit me twice in the same damn spot.”

“What happened to Bade’s nipple, by the way?” he asked.

I looked up at him without lifting my head. “You saw him?”

“Only briefly. He turned and ran just as I came into the clearing.” He added disappointedly, “Couldn’t get a clear shot.”

Alfred ran his fingers through my hair as he dried it, causing it to stand on end.

“So, what happened?” he pressed.

“I bit it off,” I said mater-of-factly.

“Hmm, I shouldn’t have asked,” he said.

“Why? Does it bother you? It was life and death, for crying out loud, I had to do something.”

“Oh, it’s not that,” he assured me.

“Then what is it?”

“Um, exactly how close to my nipples were you when we were in the tub?”

My laugh sounded soft and seductively throaty as I replied, “Honey, I was close to a lot of things. If I were you, nipples would be the least of my concern.”

“Planning to permanently injure me, were you?”

“Give me till morning,” I repeated darkly.

He settled back against the pillows and reached for me. As I cuddled up against him I couldn’t resist provoking him. “I thought you weren’t a teddy bear.”

“Don’t spread it around,” he said with a charming half smile.

“Alfred?”

“Yes.” He reached for the remote to the flat screen television mounted above the mantle over the fireplace.

“What if I die in my sleep?”

He looked at me like that was out of the question. “Well, aren’t you just a little ray of sunshine?” He smiled compassionately. “Don’t look so pitiful. I’m going to stay up for a while.” He kissed my forehead, holding his lips against me only a few seconds longer than was necessary. “Io volonta guardare sopra tu,” he whispered. (I will watch over you.)

“Mmmm,” I purred. “Keep talking.”

He smiled as I ran my hand inside his robe. “Do you think that’s wise?” he asked.

“Allow me something,” I half-heartedly complained as I began to rub over the hair on his chest. I ran my bare foot along his leg, appreciating how the soft hair felt against the smoothness of my skin.

“Do you always snuggle this good?” he asked playfully.

“Always,” I sighed as I drifted off to sleep, still rubbing his chest.

Chapter Eight

If I had dreams, I don’t recall, but I do remember feeling safe. I awoke the next morning, not wanting to open my eyes, afraid that the man wrapped around me might be only a dream. My eyes fluttered reluctantly open and I surveyed the comfortable décor of Alfred’s room. We had switched places somehow in the night, and I was now facing the bay window that overlooked the garden out back. There were inviting suede seats built into the wall underneath the window, covered with a variety of cream and chocolate colored pillows. The cabinet drawers built underneath the seats must have held something special. There was a tiny gold lock attached to one drawer. As lovely and inviting as the bay window was, it let in entirely too much light. This, I reasoned must be why Alfred had preferred thick bed curtains instead of the sheer fabric like I had upstairs.

As I looked up to find the rope to pull the bed curtains shut, I noticed how well the deep mahogany of his four poster bed blended with the room. Alfred had decorated the room all by himself, and the more I looked at it, the more I liked his choices. Of course, I couldn’t mention this to Kat. In her opinion, only gay men knew how to decorate properly. The rope was located on the left side of the bed, just out of my reach. As I stretched up to pull the cord, I noticed that not only was my towel long gone, but I was pressed against Alfred’s naked thigh.

His arm tightened around my ribs. I couldn’t reach the rope without waking him. Settling back against his warm body, I realized I didn’t want to wake him just yet. I reached behind me and ran my hand up his bare thigh. My pulse raced, but my head didn’t throb. That was always a good sign. His robe must have fallen open in the night, but he was still wearing it. As I lay there, I was suddenly very aware of how big Alfred was. My small body fit completely in the curve of his. I could feel his chin propped against the top of my head, and my feet where he was spooned against me, only reached to his shin. I felt so small and helpless as I understood he could have taken advantage of me any time he wanted to the night before, but he didn’t. He really was a gentleman. Bearing that in mind, I decided he deserved a reward. I lifted his arm from around my waist and rolled toward him. His robe still managed to carefully conceal the part I was most interested in. Placing my leg over his, I began to run my hand up his inner thigh.

“Your hands are cold,” he said, with his eyes still closed.

I jumped, like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

Alfred laughed as he moved my hand from his thigh and held it against his chest.

“I know you weren’t thinking of molesting me in my sleep.” His smile let me know he wouldn’t mind if I did.

“Of course not,” I lied, trying to look innocent.

“How’s your head?”

“Better, it’s stopped throbbing.”

He rolled me quickly onto my back as he said, “Well, that’s the only thing that has.”

“Alfred?” I said, grabbing a handful of his beautiful behind.

“Hmm?” he said, as he kissed along the side of my neck.

“What about Elijah?”

He snorted with laughter as he replied, “Little peckerwood’s lucky I didn’t throw him in the dungeon.”

“You’re horrible,” I teased, but my heart wasn’t in it.

“Don’t be so quick to judge,” he whispered against my ear, his voice filled with so many lustful promises.

When I would have expected unbridled desire, Alfred kissed me so softly that it took my breath away. Never have I been kissed in such a way. There is no delicate way of saying that every muscle between my thighs jumped in response to that soft kiss. I have never been so instantly aroused in my life. As I tried to deepen the kiss, Alfred whispered, “lento giu.” (Slow down.) But, I didn’t want to slow down. I wanted it fast, and I wanted it now. I moaned as Alfred pressed against me, our bodies only separated by his robe.

Then we heard what was unmistakably a knock at the front door. The cathedral ceiling in the foyer caused it to echo down the hall. As Alfred moved to kiss me again, I knew he was planning to ignore it. But the next knock was louder and Alfred rolled off of me as he growled, “Vaffanculo.” (Screw it.)

He pounced back over me with a malicious grin as he said, “Brace yourself.”

“For what?” I laughed.

“I’m going to kill Kathryn.” And with that he dashed out of the room toward the front door.

“Alfred, wait,” I yelled as I grabbed his spare honey colored robe from the bathroom.

By the time I caught up with him, he was already standing with the door open, staring menacingly at Kathryn. I tried to skid to a halt, but I was running too fast. Alfred barely moved when I slammed into his very solid back.

“Good morning, Kathryn, how good of you to stop by,” he said in a tone that clearly contradicted his genteel greeting.

I slapped his ass and whispered, “Behave yourself.”

He smiled at me over his shoulder and strutted angrily off to the kitchen with a muttered, “I was hungry anyway.”

As I watched him walk away, barefoot and naked except for the chocolate colored robe, I knew exactly what I wanted for breakfast. But, I would have to settle for French toast. Kat gave an appreciative whistle as I turned back to greet her.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me he looked that good in a bathrobe?” Her tone said she’d been royally gypped.

“I didn’t know,” I answered honestly.

She noticed the faint bruise across my cheek where Bade had hit me and reached out to touch my face.

“Anything kinky?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

Kat looked at me more closely and said, “Shit, I did it again, didn’t I?”

“It’s all right, Kat,” I said, putting my arm around her shoulder and leading her to the kitchen. “I forgot to leave you a message.”

Alfred had already begun to fix French toast when we sat down at the table.

“Smells good in here,” Kat commented.

“Yeah, well the only thing good about the French is their toast,” Alfred replied irritably.

Just then, Elijah came staggering in wearing my black velvet robe with the red silk trim. He had a cut above one eyebrow, a black eye, a cut lip, and a bruise in the middle of his forehead. He walked over and turned my face from side to side. The bruise that Bade had left looked more like a bit of dirt smeared across my cheek. There was another faint bruise just below the hairline on my forehead where I’d gotten kicked in the face. Everything else was nearly healed.

“You look like shit,” I said to Elijah.

“And you don’t,” he said, like it wasn’t fair.

“Gees, what happened to you people?” Kat asked.

“A whole goddamned pack of werewolves,” Elijah said wearily.

I was pleased to see that Elijah, thus far, wasn’t treating me any differently. But when he noticed Alfred, he went pale.

“I’ll be right back,” he said and left the room.

Kat gave me a questioning look. I shrugged in response, but decided to follow him.

“Elijah,” I put my hand on his shoulder and he winched. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” he said, turning around.

“Look, I know you saw me do some things last night that—”

“It’s not you,” he cut in.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“What you did was necessary. Life or death, you know?”

“Yeah,” I agreed hesitantly.

“But him?” He motioned toward the kitchen. “He enjoyed it.”

“What do you mean?”

“When he got to you and saw the condition you were in, he went berserk.” Elijah looked horrified with the memory. “They were already running away. He shot them in the back,” his voice shook, “he shot their legs out from under them and shot them in the head.”

I didn’t know what to say. I honestly hadn’t expected Alfred to be the one he thought of as a monster.

“He killed them all,” he said softly. “All except the blond and another that was in wolf form. They ran away before he got within range.”

I still couldn’t speak. No one but my father had ever reacted so violently to me being injured. I reached out to try to comfort Elijah, but he stopped me.

“That’s not all,” he said. “Within thirty minutes, he’d piled the bodies up and doused them in gasoline.”

My eyes grew wider. “So what, he lit a match and torched thirty werewolves?”

“No, he lit a cigar, took a few puffs and tossed it on them.”

Wow, I was impressed. I’d never known Alfred could be so ruthless. It was a turn on to know the hands that had gently washed my hair the night before could have just as easily torn me apart. I can’t explain it, but knowing that Alfred would go to such lengths to protect me, just flat did it for me.

One look at Elijah said he didn’t share my appreciation for Alfred’s brutality.

“We can talk about it later.” I took Elijah by the hand, suddenly realizing I’d left Kat alone with Alfred.

Upon entering the kitchen it appeared, to my relief, that all they’d done was make coffee. No one had been injured. Elijah looked calmer now, but he sat beside me, avoiding the chair closest to Alfred.

Alfred handed me some coffee in my favorite mug, made just the way I liked it, Kalua coffee with vanilla cream. I used to take it bitter and strong, but over the years my taste in coffee, like my taste in men, had changed. Now I wanted it with a little more sugar.

Kat got up and began pouring her own coffee as she said, “So, you guys got the shit beat out of you.” She indicated Elijah and me, before sitting back down. “What about you, Alfred?”

“Sono allupato,” he replied. (I’m horny.)

I giggled and nearly choked on my coffee. Kat looked at me, but I wasn’t about to interpret what he’d just said.

“I know sarcasm when I hear it, even if I don’t understand the language.” She chucked a piece of toast at Alfred. He ducked it with a laugh, but Elijah, who was now standing near the fridge, wasn’t as fortunate. Elijah reached up and peeled the toast from his forehead as Kat began to laugh so hard she could no longer breathe, and Alfred propped on the counter for support. I tried to maintain my composure for Elijah’s sake, but it was difficult. Kat and Alfred sounded like a pack of hyenas.

“How’s your toast?” I snickered.

“Would you like fries with that?” Alfred asked, gasping for breath.

Elijah laughed as he wiped his forehead. “You know, I don’t know what is wrong with you guys, but I’m sure it’s hard to pronounce.”

“Nothing serious, I’m afraid we’re just assholes,” Alfred answered as he put some fruit on the table.

Kat, who had laughed until her neatly applied mascara was running, picked this opportunity to snort.

“Would you like some coffee?” I asked, my eyes watering with the effort it took to not burst out laughing.

“No thanks,” he said with a smile. “I’m afraid to know where that might end up.”

I laughed then until I couldn’t breathe. After the events of the night before, I think it did us all good, even Elijah seemed less on edge. We all sat down and had breakfast together like civilized people. That is if you ignored the occasional giggle when someone took a bite of toast.

After a few minutes Alfred no longer had a murderous gleam in his eye when he looked at Kathryn, and Elijah didn’t seem to notice that I was wearing Alfred’s robe. Everything was going fairly well until Elijah asked, “How did you know where to find us?”

Alfred looked at me and asked, “You remember a tall fellow with rusty colored hair?”

“Yes.” It was the tall man at the door, the one I’d kneed in the crotch.

Alfred went on, “Well, apparently he’d forgotten something. By the time he returned, I was here.”

Well, that eased my mind about where Alfred had spent the night.

“He just told you where we were?” Elijah asked skeptically.

“No,” Alfred said, pouring more coffee, “took me till the next day to get it out of him.”

“And where could I find this individual to question him further?” Elijah inquired.

“You couldn’t.”

With these words, Kat nearly choked on a strawberry and Elijah turned a sickly shade of green.

“Did he say why they took us?” I seemed the only one capable of speech.

“All he knew was they needed a sample of your blood.”

“Are you sure?” Elijah asked. “He could have been lying.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Alfred smiled darkly, clearly enjoying Elijah’s squeamish reaction.

“Damn. That’s all that we know, too,” I said.

“I imagine it’s got something to do with what Marco mentioned, about trying to recreate your DNA,” Alfred said to me.

“Well, we’ll never know now will we? Especially, if you keep killing off all the witnesses.” Elijah stood and walked to the door.

Alfred went on as if he hadn’t spoken, “I’m afraid they’ll be sorely disappointed. You were exposed to the disease, but your body managed to fight it. Not everyone exposed will contract the disease, but you absorbed it, mutated it to make you stronger. The odds of that ever happening again are slim to none.”

“Gee, I feel so special,” I said mockingly.

“I’d best be going,” Elijah said from the door.

I looked to Kat and Alfred. “Will you two behave while I see Elijah out?”

They both gave me blank expressions that I’m sure were an attempt at innocence.

“I’ll be right back.” It sounded like a threat, even to my own ears.

I put my hand on Elijah’s elbow, careful not to touch his shoulder and walked with him upstairs.

“Will you be all right?” I asked as we reached my bedroom.

“I think so,” he said, offering me a feeble attempt at his usual smile.

When the smile didn’t reach his eyes, I thought I would cry. The sparkle in Elijah’s blue eyes was gone, and it was my fault. I had corrupted him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said gently. “It’s not that bad.”

But, as he slid my robe from his surprisingly well muscled shoulders, I gasped to see how bad it was. He handed me the robe and walked to the bed where his shirt had been discarded. He’d worn his jeans underneath the robe, but I got a clear view of his upper body. His back was covered in cuts and bruises, many a deep heinous looking purple. The shoulder that I’d touched earlier looked as if someone had tried to tear it from the socket.

I walked toward Elijah and turned him to face me before he could button his deep blue shirt. I noticed with a trace of regret, how well it matched his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly as I touched his left cheek, the one spot on his face that wasn’t bruised.

“It’s not your fault,” he said, placing his hand over mine.

“Have you been…?”

“Contaminated?”

I nodded.

“No. Alfred was sure to check for that.”

I ran my hands inside his shirt and gently placed them around his waist, careful to not touch any of the terrible bruises.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated, laying my head against the shoulder that hadn’t been abused so cruelly. I didn’t know what else to do. I suppose it has something to do with being empathic. When I see someone hurting, I want to help. I always had. That sometimes made my job very difficult. As long as I could justify my actions in my mind, I’d be all right. Like Elijah had said earlier, if it was life and death. But this conflicted strongly with the animal in me that seemed to enjoy the violence. Fortunately, the beast was only aroused by sex or violence, and standing there with Elijah, there was cause for neither.

All I wanted to do was to take him in my arms and make it go away. With all that was in me, I wanted to comfort Elijah. He rested his unbruised cheek against my face and sighed. With that sigh, I felt the tension begin to leave his body, and where my hands touched his bare waist, began to flow into me. I couldn’t take his memories, but I could take some of his pain, his shock, things that I was used to dealing with. I held Elijah to me and did my best to ease his burden.

“I feel better,” he said softly. “How did you do that?”

I pulled back slightly. “I don’t know. That’s only the second time it’s ever happened.”

The first time had been when I rescued Kat’s now ex-boyfriend from werewolves. Kat had not been injured, but she’d seen the whole thing. I did not leave one of them alive. Her boyfriend was unconscious, but as I turned around, the blood of the last werewolf dripping from my sword, I saw Kathryn. She was huddled up, rocking back and forth, her eyes wide with shock and terror. As I looked down at my blood covered hands, I had never been so ashamed of what I was. I approached Kat, her bloody avenger, and dropped to my knees before her.

She gasped and leapt back when I extended my bloody hand to her. She told me later that when she looked in my eyes, she knew I wouldn’t hurt her. Kat fell into my arms, and nearly knocked me to the ground, crying hysterically. My only thought was that if I could ease this woman’s suffering, I would. I wanted to chase away the haunted look in her eyes and return her to whatever she was before. As I sat there, rocking her back and forth, I felt a peace flow from my body into hers. Gradually, she stopped shaking and looked at me with the eyes of the Kathryn I know today.

“Thank you,” Elijah said as he kissed me gently, so as not to further injure his busted lip.

It was a show of gratitude, not a sexual overture, and I accepted it with a smile. I walked Elijah to the front door, said goodbye, and returned to the kitchen.

To my surprise, I found Kat and Alfred deeply engrossed in a conversation about decorating. Somewhere during this discussion, Alfred had retrieved his communicator that he then pointed at me without warning and said, “Smile.”

I was blinded by the flash.

“What the hell?”

“I’ve got a report to make, and Jacob will want to know that you’re all right.”

“Couldn’t you just tell him?”

Alfred gave me a look that clearly said how stupid my question was. “You know he’ll want proof.”

“You’re right.” I sighed. “But how are you going to explain this?” I indicated the robe. “He’s seen you in this robe before.”

Alfred winked as he left the room. “That’s why I only got a head shot.”

“Damn, that man is sexy,” Kat said after Alfred was out of ear shot. “Well?” she asked expectantly.

“I still don’t know, Kat.”

She pretended to pout.

“Oh, I almost forgot, Ms. Wilson came by the shop yesterday.”

I had known Ms. Wilson all of my life. She was a little gray haired old lady who lived in town and made it her business to know everyone else’s business.

Kat passed me an envelope while doing a fair impression of Ms. Wilson. “I’m having my annual spring tea party, and I would mail this, but that Italian she’s living with probably wouldn’t give it to her. So, would you be so kind as to pass along this invitation? I know what that man thinks of me, but in the South, we do still have manners.”

I snickered at Kat’s impression as I read the invitation. There was a lovely watercolor picture on the front of the card of an antique looking teapot with cute little lumps of sugar in a dish beside it.

“You know, I have to agree with Ms. Wilson on this one, Alfred really wouldn’t give it to me. That’s the problem,” I said provocatively, “he never has a chance to give it to me.”

Kat laughed as she continued, “She said to be sure and invite a friend, and you’re my friend. So, will you come?”

I laid the card back on the table. “I never miss it, but Alfred would rather be shot.”

Kat laughed. “You’ll just have to bring someone else.”

“I know just the person.”

“Your buddy at the University?”

“Yep.”

Dr. Richard Stacey had been my friend longer than Kathryn. I’d stopped one of his colleagues from killing him when the other guy wolfed out at a club one night. I have a knack for meeting people that way. Dr. Stacey was about five-foot-nine with gentle blue gray eyes and prematurely gray hair. He was one of the most genuinely nice people I had ever known, and he was a sucker for stuff like this. If the poor guy couldn’t come up with an honest reason not to go, he wouldn’t try to lie. Oh yes, I knew the friend I would be bringing.

“What exactly does he do again?” Kat asked.

“He’s got a degree in chemistry, physics, and a number of other things that make my head hurt.”

She laughed at my response.

“But, he teaches science and geology,” I finished.

“Sounds fascinating.” Kat rolled her eyes. “Be sure to wear something nice, I’m going to take pictures.”

“Okay, but why?”

“Alfred thought it would add a bit of ‘southern charm’ to my shop if I had some nice big pictures of the tea party to display.”

“Alfred thought?” I couldn’t keep the surprise from my voice.

“Yes, Alfred thought.”

I gave her a questioning look.

“I had to find a subject that didn’t piss him off.” She laughed. “You know, he’s actually got good taste for a straight guy.”

After Kat left, I decided to see what was taking Alfred so long with the report. As I walked into his room, he was just signing off on his communicator and I ducked quickly back out of the room.

“It’s all right,” he called. “Jacob had already logged off.”

I walked over to where Alfred sat at a larger version of my writing desk, flung the robe dramatically back from my thighs, and straddled his lap.

“It’s not that I’m ashamed of you honey,” I purred sweetly. “I just wouldn’t want to give my father the wrong impression.”

“Like us sleeping together?” He smiled. “Yeah, that would be totally misleading.”

“So, did Kathryn give you the invitation to the tea party?”

“Yes, she did.” I ran my fingers playfully through his already tousled hair.

“And who are you taking?” He asked, smiling. “You know I can’t stand that old woman.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel about Ms. Wilson. I was thinking of asking Richard Stacey.”

Alfred, for reasons beyond my comprehension, rarely missed an opportunity to either make fun of, or generally harass Richard Stacey. Needless to say, there was no love lost between these guys. They didn’t exactly hate each other, but they weren’t friends either.

“So, you’re taking Dick Stacey with you, eh?” he teased.

“Must you call him that?” I tried to pretend it wasn’t funny.

“Yeah.” Alfred’s voice took on a more wicked tone as he added, “He looks like a dick to me.”

I sighed as I leaned in to rub my cheek against his. “Yes, and Elijah’s a peckerwood.”

“Don’t make me sound so terrible.”

“Oh, you don’t need my help,” I said as I bit gently along his bottom lip. “Richard’s thought you were an asshole for years, and now poor Elijah thinks you’re a complete sociopath.”

He laughed, but the smile faded quickly from his face.

“What?”

“I’ve got something to tell you that ... well, you’re not going to want to hear.”

“You hate my guts and you’re leaving me for Marcy?”

Alfred laughed so hard he nearly dislodged me from my perch on his lap.

“God, no,” he gasped. “Please, get your mind on something else, this is serious.”

“Okay, fine. What has my father cooked up now?”

“How did you know?”

“You know better than to ask me that question. How many years have I known this man?”

I watched as the smile faded from Alfred’s eyes and knew it was something serious, even before he spoke. “The council has granted Marco Barak a hearing.”

“What?”

“That’s not all,” he cut in. “Jacob thinks we should stage a protest. Not that it will do any good, but he’s got about a hundred Hunters who are willing to show up outside the Council Tower.”

“I wondered how he was planning on getting close enough to get that damn bug of his in the building.”

“He told you about that, too, huh?”

“Of course, daddy’s little girl, don’t you know.”

Alfred smiled weakly. “And he wants me to be there,” he finished.

I felt my heart leap unpleasantly. “When’s the hearing?”

“In three months.”

“That’s not so bad.”

“He wants me to leave now,” Alfred interrupted. “Apparently, there’s a lot of planning to be done, and he wants me to be there.”

I sighed disappointedly as I rested my forehead against Alfred’s shoulder. There was no refusing my father once he had his mind made up. I also knew Alfred well enough to know he wouldn’t love me and leave me so quickly, so sex was out of the question. That didn’t make sense to me, but it’s the way things were. No use wasting the time we had together arguing over it.

“Does the transporter in the lab still work? It hasn’t been used in a while,” I said.

“Yeah, it works, unfortunately.”

“So, when will you leave?”

Alfred looked into my eyes as he answered quietly, “Tomorrow.”

I spent the night with Alfred again, but this time we moved to my room. I wanted his scent on my sheets. Perhaps the smell of his cologne on my pillow would help to ease the empty feeling I had at the thought of being without him. Neither of us spoke much that night. We seemed to share a mutual need to just be close. It wasn’t as if I was expecting to never see him again. I knew Alfred would come back. I just didn’t want him to leave. Not then, not when I’d begun to attach myself to him so completely.

I held him to me as if there would be no tomorrow. Part of me was angry with my father for asking him to go. But, I reasoned that since they used to be partners, he trusted Alfred. People in power don’t always have someone to trust. It was a compliment to be asked, really. As I lay there, pressed as tightly against Alfred’s side as I could get, I felt him brush the hair back from my forehead and place his lips against me so gently that I knew he thought I was asleep. It took everything I had not to cry.

*****

The morning came too soon. I followed Alfred quietly down the stairs to the lab. The transporter in the far corner looked like nothing more than a circle of white tiles set into the floor. However, each tile represented other transporters and their locations, both on Earth and Terra.

Alfred pressed the tile that would take him directly to my father’s office as I watched forlornly. He stepped forward, pulled me against him, and kissed me softly. I closed my eyes and savored the way his lips felt against mine. There were many nights ahead when I would have only that memory to keep me warm.

“I’ll see you soon,” he whispered against my lips.

Alfred stepped back into the circle, and in an instant, he was gone.

By the time I got back upstairs, Kat was at the door. As I opened the door, I felt tears beginning to burn the backs of my eyes, but I fought it. The only problem was a real friend knows when something’s wrong, just by looking at you.

“What’s wrong?” Kat asked, stepping toward me.

The compassion on her face was too much. I tried unsuccessfully to cover up the trail of involuntary tears with the sleeve of my robe.

“Do you realize that I’ve cried more in the past five months than I have in the past five years?” I sniffed.

“Where’s Alfred?” she asked, looking around.

“Come in, I’ll explain,” I said, still attempting to dry my eyes.

Kat made coffee while I went over what had happened.

“I don’t understand something,” Kat began. “If there’s a president, then what purpose does the council serve?”

“The wizards on the council are advisors to the president. He’s voted on every twenty years, and represents the entire population. A being of any race can be elected president.”

“What about the wizards? How long do they stay on the council?”

“They serve on the council for life.”

“Wow. Ever have them fight over it?”

“The council seats?”

“Yeah,” she said, looking for some cream. “I mean, those guys live for forever, that’s got to be a big deal, right?”

“Oh yeah. That’s what the last wizard war was about.”

“But I thought you guys had only had one war,” Kat said, looking confused.

“No, one world war, there have been many wizard wars—”

“But only one war that managed to piss off everybody,” she finished for me.

“Pretty much.”

“So, what happened last time?”

I got up to look for some fruit. With my metabolism, if I didn’t eat soon, I’d get sick, even if I didn’t feel like eating at the moment. “You really want to hear all this crap?”

“Sure,” Kat said, looking genuinely interested. “It’s not every day you get to hear stuff like this. I mean, normally, you have to buy a good sci-fi or fantasy book to get this level of bullshit.”

I laughed. “It’s not bullshit.”

“So, what happened?” she prompted.

“Well, this dark wizard, Tavarius Maeryn, wanted the recently vacated seat on the council. He never really had a chance. I mean, everyone knew he was evil. They had someone else in mind to recommend for the position, but it was never said who.”

“If they decided on someone, do they just automatically get in?” Kat interrupted.

“No, it’s put to a vote. If the president or the people have an objection to the opinion of the council, then majority rules. At least two of the three have to agree. Like if the council wanted somebody that the president was against, the vote of the people would decide.”

“What happened then?”

“So, Maeryn goes out and conjures himself an army of goblins,” I said offhandedly while I looked for some cream to go with my strawberries.

“He conjured goblins?”

“Cursed a bunch of elves, actually. The point is, this entire army was defeated by a young wizard named Alek Ambrose. He was only twenty years old at the time. Everyone was really impressed.”

“They offered him the seat, right?”

“Oh sure, but he turned it down. Said he hadn’t fought Maeryn for the seat, that he’d simply done the right thing.”

“Sounds very noble and all, but is he for real?”

“I guess so. He sort of dropped out of sight after that. No one’s heard anything from him in the last forty years.”

Kat took a sip of coffee with trembling hands before asking, “So, you’ve got wizards, elves, and goblins running around and you never thought to mention it?”

I laughed a little as I answered, “Sorry, Kat. I just didn’t think it was that big of a deal. Besides, you knew about the wizards.”

She looked at me like that was the dumbest thing I’d ever said.

“Are these creatures on Earth?”

“Not anymore. There were some different races years ago that lived here, but most have died out long ago. Once in a while, you get the stray monster, sent out by some dark wizard, or two bit conjuror. But the last wizard war was forty years ago, and there hasn’t been a goblin seen since.”

“Well, that’s a comfort,” Kat said sarcastically. “You know, after seeing real live werewolves, I shouldn’t be surprised at anything.”

“After I was nearly eaten by one, neither was I,” I said darkly.

Chapter Nine

As I sat on the balcony that evening, I looked out across the woods toward the sunset, and found comfort in its beauty. Dusk had always been my favorite time of day. The stress of the day was behind, with the promise of a warm summer’s night ahead. The breeze flowed over my skin like a caress and I sighed, remembering the way Alfred’s fingers had brushed the hair back from my face just as gently.

I breathed deeply as I thought to myself there was poetry somewhere in that memory. I took out my pin and paper and wrote:

Fingers in My Hair

The wind brushes softly past my face and I am reminded of your touch.

The soft caress of gentle hands that I've come to love so much.

Your fingers run through my hair, chasing away my worries, brushing past my cares.

The wagging tongues of the world grow still when you touch me.

So, I stand here in the wind and let it blow the hair back from my face, quietly remembering a touch that my mind cannot erase.

I let it brush away my worries and blow away my cares, just as your fingers used to do, when you ran them through my hair.

Putting down my pin, I looked up at the moon. It was half full, peeking from the clouds like a large, silvery eye. I had always heard that “the crazies” come out on a full moon. The truth is, they are always out, some of them are just more dangerous on a full moon.

I walked to the edge of the balcony and nearly fell backward when I looked over the roses. Marco was standing under the balcony, looking up expectantly.

“Little pig, little pig,” he began.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “That won’t get you anywhere. Besides, I waxed my chin.”

He laughed then, too, and the sound sent shivers up my spine.

“What are you doing here, Marco?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“Can’t I come in?” he asked. The deep and sexy rumble of his voice did things to me that I couldn’t describe.

“No, you can’t.”

“Don’t you trust me, Red?” he asked, pretending to be offended.

“No, I don’t,” I answered, but I couldn’t stop the smile.

“But you like me.” It wasn’t a question.

“I could have you killed for standing here.”

“But you won’t.”

Marco knew I wouldn’t kill him, not that night, not for just standing there. He stepped back slightly, and I got a better look at one of the sexiest men I’d ever seen. I’ve never seen anyone look so good in a pair of jeans. They weren’t tight, but they fit well enough that you knew what you were looking at, and I felt guilty for looking. Alfred hadn’t been gone a day, and there I was ogling Marco, again.

“No,” I said after a long pause. “I won’t have you killed, but I don’t feel like conversation tonight either.”

“Well, I didn’t feel like conversation when you cuffed me to the chair.”

A smile curved my lips as I purred silkily, “Well, I don’t feel like sex either.”

The smile he gave me was nothing short of charming, as he responded, “You know where to find me.”

“Yes.” Unfortunately, I did, which made it more tempting to seek him out, I thought with a smile as I watched Marco disappear into the woods.

After closing the balcony doors and pulling the sheer red curtains, I found my bed to look more inviting than it had earlier. I was physically, mentally, and emotionally spent. I let the robe that I’d worn all day, fall to the floor as I crawled between the sheets, still wearing my black lace bra and panties. Taking hold of the pillow Alfred had slept on the night before, I snuggled it against me, breathed deeply, and fell asleep.

*****

I awoke the next morning to a beautiful day and it pissed me off. Whatever happened to good old rainy days? I rolled over and noticed the blue light flashing on my communicator. Alfred had been gone one whole day and I had a message. This could be good, or this could be bad. I held my breath and pressed the button. The images of Alfred and my father appeared as they began to sing happy birthday to me. I had actually forgotten my own birthday. About the time that I was thinking how stupid I was, Alfred smiled and said, “We know you probably forgot it. Don’t feel bad, just do something fun.”

My dad waved at me and said, “Happy Birthday, baby.”

The message was over, the hologram faded, but I was left with a smile. I knew Kat would want to do something and I had a plan. But first, I needed to ask Richard about the tea party, it was only two days away.

I put on a pair of comfortable old jeans, tan flip flops, and a soft, brown t-shirt that complemented my hazel eyes. Taking my keys from the table, I opened the door to find a package waiting for me. It was a golden showers rose with a card from my mother. I sat it just inside the door with a smile. It would make a nice addition to my garden.

The University was about an hour away. When I arrived, I was halfway to Richard’s office before I realized I had no idea how to approach the topic. I didn’t want him to know he was being suckered. I knocked on the door and watched through the small window as Richard jumped, sending rock samples flying. He looked up and smiled. When Richard opened the door, I had no trouble returning the smile as I hugged him affectionately.

I liked Richard. He was one of those people that you never had to wonder where you stood with. If he liked you, you knew it, likewise if he didn’t. There was no guesswork with Richard. Not to simplify him, he was just genuine. Richard was also the only straight man that I could spend the day with without being propositioned.

“Need help with your rocks?” I asked sarcastically.

“Yeah.” He laughed.

I crouched down and began replacing the rocks on the chart, pausing to run my thumb over a piece of polished obsidian. It reminded me of the way Alfred’s hair looked in the early morning sun.

“You okay?” Richard asked.

“Yeah,” I answered, snapping out of my daydream. “I’m fine.”

“So, what brings you to this God forsaken place?” Obviously Richard was not the happiest of employees. But, he loved teaching, so he stayed, despite tremendous piles of bullshit. Sometimes I thought I should get him a shovel for Christmas instead of a card.

“Actually I need a favor,” I mentioned tentatively.

“Don’t think I’ll do any old thing just because it’s your birthday,” he teased.

“You remembered.” I beamed. “Good, then will you come to Ms. Wilson’s tea party with me?” I blurted out.

“Ms. Wilson? That nosy old woman who asked me my life’s history last year? You’re kidding right?”

I pretended to pout and Richard thumped me in the head.

“Stop it,” he said, but he was smiling.

“Pleeease?”

“What’s the matter, Alfred doesn’t do tea parties?” he asked bitterly.

“Alfred’s out of town,” I said, not making eye contact. When Richard actually paid attention, he was pretty perceptive. I didn’t want him to get a good look at my disappointment when I mentioned Alfred’s whereabouts.

“Oh,” he said, as if that changed things. “Then I guess I’m your only choice,” he said, the bitterness returning to his voice.

“No, Richard.” I looked back up as I asked, “What’s wrong with you?” He was never like this. Richard Stacey was absolutely the most mild-mannered person that I knew. Of course, in the years we’d known each other, I think I’d begun to wear off on him a little.

He sighed resignedly. “It’s nothing. I’ll go with you. When is it anyway?”

I passed him the invitation, but I wasn’t dropping the other subject. “What’s going on?” I persisted.

“Just more political bullshit. Your buddy’s come up with another reason to berate and embarrass me.” Richard referred to anyone he hated as my buddy. The truth of the matter was I didn’t like any of the people he worked with either, but I didn’t have to live with them, so to speak. I didn’t even ask which “buddy” he was referring to. It was no secret that the dean of the science department hated Richard. For reasons that went beyond my comprehension, he was constantly trying to find excuses to have Richard dismissed.

Of course these reasons were always completely ludicrous. The last I heard he was trying to have him fired for not checking his mail “in a timely fashion.” Apparently leaving Science and Society magazines in your mailbox was a violation. I believe he had worded it as, “not performing your academic duty.”

“Any chance we could turn them all into werewolves so you could kill them off for me?” he asked jokingly.

“No.” I laughed. “Besides, that may all change soon.”

“Really?”

I proceeded to catch Richard up on recent events. Since he was a scientist, as well as an attack victim, he had an interest in the subject. He was very fortunate to have not been scratched. The werewolf in question had flung a chair at him. It broke his nose, but at least he hadn’t been attacked with claws and teeth. His colleague, Dr. David Kane was a newly turned werewolf and wasn’t aware that losing his temper could bring on the change. Fortunately, no one was hurt and only the bartender and Richard saw what had happened. Dr. Kane had since learned to control his temper as well as the change.

“So, things could change then for David, too?” Richard asked about the possibility of werewolves being legally recognized.

“It could, but there’s bound to be a lot of prejudice. I doubt he would want anyone knowing what he is.”

“That’s true. Wouldn’t want werewolves teaching the next generation, now would we?” he asked sarcastically.

“Even if he wasn’t a werewolf, I wouldn’t want Kane teaching the next generation.” I laughed.

David Kane was a freak even without being a werewolf. He’d been infected with lycanthropy through a rough sexual encounter with a stripper. The problem was, he was really good-looking and the animal magnetism that seemed to emanate from most lycanthropes only made him more difficult to resist. Kane was around six-foot-two, with sandy brown hair, clear blue eyes, and an ass like muffin tins. Besides that, he was a really nice guy. If anything, being a werewolf had made him sexier. Oh yeah, I looked, but I knew too much about Kane to ever seriously want to touch. When it came to sex, this guy didn’t have issues, he had a subscription.

“That’s true,” Richard said, laughing. “He’s a nice guy, though.”

“Yes.” I had to agree.

With Richard caught up on the latest news in my life, I listened while he vented about his ridiculous working conditions, and we continued to pick up his rock samples.

“You actually know where all of these belong on the chart,” he said in amazement.

“I’m not a dumbass, you know,” I joked. “Just because I hunt werewolves doesn’t mean I don’t use my brain.”

“I know that,” he said, not liking to be chastised, even jokingly sometimes. “How’s the poetry coming? Had anything else published?”

I told him about my latest publication, but left out the poem that I’d written about Alfred the night before. Richard and I were close, but I wasn’t ready for him to know about Alfred and I yet, not until I was sure there was an “Alfred and I.” Richard was the mutual friend that had told me about Bradley’s plan to disappear from my life. After being able to trust Richard with that, it felt strange to keep this from him, but I just didn’t want to get into it.

“There’s a lot of fucked up stuff going on around here,” he said finally.

I knew he had to be really upset. Richard wasn’t a saint or anything, but normally, he did not use the f-word.

“Like what?”

“Like Mallory.”

Dr. Mallory Monroe was a bitch if ever there was one. She taught biology and seemed to have a fetish for anything unwholesome. Seeing as how Richard was a nice guy, she despised him. Mallory was about six-feet-tall, with short hair, and a strong chin. If it weren’t for her breasts, she could easily be mistaken for a man. She hated most men with a passion, though she didn’t have a preference for women, she just seemed to hate them slightly less.

“Why, what’s she done?”

“Nothing in particular. She’s just been more of a cunt than usual, even for her,” he said bitterly.

“Richard,” I scolded with a laugh. “Such language.”

“Well, she is.”

“So, she hasn’t actually done anything to you, she’s just more of—”

“A cunt,” he interrupted.

“Yeah, I got that part.” I laughed. “Could we choose another word please?” I wasn’t offended by the word “cunt.” I just wanted to see how creative Richard could be.

“Dickhead, now there’s a word,” he said darkly, placing the last rock on the chart.

“Who’s the dickhead?” I tried not to laugh, Richard was really upset.

“Who isn’t?”

“Would you like to get a drink?” I asked, trying to be sympathetic.

Richard looked at the clock on his cell phone. The man never wore a watch. “It’s noon,” he said flatly.

“So?”

He looked at me for a minute, considering. “You’re right. To hell with it. I don’t have to teach today. Let’s go have a drink.”

Since I didn’t have the ability to get drunk and stay that way and Richard did, I decided to drive. Besides, I think he needed to drink more than I did. We made our way over to a little bar on the other side of town and after two white Russians, he began to mellow.

“Thanks,” he said.

“You’re welcome.”

“Not just for the drink, for listening. Things have been driving me crazy lately,” he said, running his fingers through his prematurely gray hair and causing it to stand on end. I stifled a giggle as he continued, “I’m so tired. I hadn’t realized until I got still for a few minutes.”

“Come on.” I stood up. “I’ll take you home.”

I dropped Richard off with a note that said what time to be at my house on Friday. I knew if I told him then he’d never remember. He was absent minded enough without figuring in the alcohol.

*****

As I made my way down the long, winding driveway, I could see something bright red on my doorstep. Even before I got out of the car, I could clearly see a dozen red roses. I heard another car coming up the drive and looked over my shoulder to see Elijah Jasper’s patrol car. Hurriedly, I picked up the card. I wanted to at least know who they were from before he got there.

The smile was completely involuntary as I read:

Don’t get the wrong idea, this doesn’t count as conversation.

Happy birthday, Red.

The card wasn’t signed, but I knew Marco had sent them. What I wanted to know was how the hell he knew it was my birthday. Before I had time to really ponder the question, I heard Elijah’s door close.

As I turned around I saw that his bruises had turned to a lovely shade of yellow, and his lip was beginning to heal.

“Hi.” He smiled as he moved closer.

“What are you up to?” I asked.

“Well, I was going to wish you a happy birthday, but it looks as if someone beat me to it.” He motioned toward the flowers.

“How did you …?” I began.

“I overheard your friend Kat talking about it. I was at her shop earlier today,” he confessed.

“Oh.” I smiled. “That was nice of you, Elijah.”

“Call me Eli,” he reminded me, and the smile reached his eyes.

Even covered in bruises, Elijah managed to be charming.

“Come in,” I offered.

“Thanks, but I can’t stay. Actually, I was wondering if, after my bruises heal, maybe we could try again on the whole date thing.”

“After our first date was such a success,” I replied sarcastically.

“Yeah.” He laughed.

I felt that I should explain something to Elijah. It wasn’t fair to lead him on. “You know Alfred—”

“Is not here,” he interrupted. “But I am.”

I had to admit that caught me by surprise. There was no doubt whatsoever that he had managed to charm this information out of Kat.

“Don’t look so serious,” he said gently. “I’m not asking for forever and always, but let’s spend some time together.”

“After our first date?” I repeated the question, just in case he missed the sarcasm the first time.

“I’m willing to take my chances.” His smile made me want to return the favor. Even the busted lip couldn’t distract from the heavenly blue of his eyes. They were the sort of eyes you could drown in if you let yourself.

“All right.” I didn’t have the heart to refuse him. “Just as long as you understand that—”

“Not forever and always,” he interrupted again. There was a note to his voice that I couldn’t quite read. It wasn’t exactly sadness. It was closer to disappointment.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Well, not Chinese,” he joked.

“Do you like Italian?”

He seemed surprised.

“I’m not a bad cook when I try. Why don’t you come by next weekend? I’ll cook for you. You do realize, this is a rare offer?” I added with a wink.

“That sounds great,” he answered, glancing back at the patrol car reluctantly. “I’ve got to be going. Will you be at Ms. Wilson’s on Friday?”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “She got you, too, huh?”

“She stopped by to ask Kat about your invitation while I was there.” He added with a grin, “I was trapped.”

I wanted to say something to make him stay, but nothing came to mind, so I waved politely as Elijah drove away. There was something about him that just made me feel better. He wasn’t comforting in the sense that Alfred was. With Alfred, I knew I was safe from anyone who might try to hurt me. But, when I was near Elijah, I forgot there were such people. It wasn’t just the smile, or his eyes. I had been wrong in thinking that Elijah was completely innocent. He’d seen enough to know the world wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. There was something else in his smile. It wasn’t innocence, or naivety. It was hope, and it made me feel better.

As I sat Marco’s roses on the kitchen table, I thought about what Elijah had said, “not forever and always.” If he knew that, then why was he wasting his time? But then again, wasn’t it me who had said, it didn’t have to be anything serious? Yeah, I think that was me. I enjoyed being with Elijah, and it didn’t have to be any more complicated than that. Part of me was relieved to have someone to spend time with in Alfred’s absence who wasn’t looking to complicate my life any further. But another part wouldn’t stop saying, “don’t get too close.”

Maybe I was the one being naïve to think that I could spend the next three months with an attractive man and not become involved. However, I reminded myself as I read Marco’s card again, I’m not a complete animal ... just half.

*****

Friday came more quickly than I expected and when Richard arrived, I still couldn’t decide what to wear. I answered the door in my pajamas and a pair of flip flops that just happened to be conveniently located outside my bedroom door. He laughed when he saw me, and as I took in his appearance, I remembered why I hadn’t bothered to tell him to dress nicely. Richard never dressed down. The man didn’t even own a pair of jeans. The pity was, the one time I’d ever seen him wear them, he looked good.

“Is that a fashion statement, or are you just not ready yet?”

“Very funny.” I wasn’t really amused, and I couldn’t help the smirk. “Are you gonna help me decide on something, or just stand there?”

He took a deep breath as he replied, “Well, there is a nice breeze here—”

I snatched him through the door before he could finish his next smartass remark.

After looking through about half the things in my closet, we both finally decided on a mid-length, flowing brown dress. It was sleeveless, with gracefully layered ruffles that reached just below my knees. I accessorized with a sun hat to which I attached a sheer brown scarf as a band. The ensemble was completed by a strappy pair of heels that neatly covered my tattoo.

I walked out of the bathroom and found Richard looking through some of my latest sketches.

“What do you think?” I posed dramatically.

“That I’m in the wrong line of work,” he said, still looking at my drawings.

I walked over to see which pictures had caught his attention and found Marco kneeling like a slave on the page before me. As is often the case with Marco, the smile was involuntary.

“Do you like it?” I asked.

“I’m afraid to say,” he said seriously.

“Why?”

“Well,” he said, looking up at me, “if I like it, what does that say about me?”

“That you need a dominatrix.” I laughed. “Now, what about this dress?”

He smiled approvingly as he said in his best backwoods hick voice, “You clean up reel nice, missy.”

We arrived fashionably late, while everyone else was still introducing themselves. Most people were already acquainted. However, there were always a few new faces each year. I saw one face in particular that I wanted to avoid, but she was already making her way toward us.

“Shit,” I hissed, turning my back on Marcy as she advanced through the crowd.

“What?” Richard asked.

“I hate that woman,” I growled.

“I don’t like her either,” Elijah’s voice said from behind me.

I wasn’t sure how I’d managed to overlook him, but as I turned around, I saw that I was clearly blind to have done so. Elijah was wearing the kind of dress shirt that is meant to be worn untucked, in a deep shade of brown with a matching jacket, dark dress shoes, and a pair of jeans that fit well enough to have given Marco a run for his money.

“Not bad,” I said approvingly.

“Yeah, I clean up nice.” He returned my greeting with a smile that made his blue eyes sparkle and I noticed how much the brown complemented his hair. Standing in the sunlight that afternoon, I appreciated for the first time how his hair reflected like a honeyed gold in the sun. It seemed a grave injustice to have categorized it as dark blond or light brown. His hair was brown, but with natural golden highlights that most women would have killed for.

After a moment, I realized I was staring. “Yes, you do,” I said, not bothering to be polite enough to stop looking. This caused Elijah’s smile to broaden appreciatively and Richard leaned around to give me a funny look. It was at this moment that Marcy finally made her way to where we stood on Ms. Wilson’s front lawn.

“Lilith, so nice to see you.” She beamed artificially.

Every word that woman spoke in an attempt at polite conversation seemed an insult to my ears. I forced myself to smile as I replied coolly, “Hi.” I couldn’t bring myself to say it was nice to see her, too, because it wasn’t. I’d have much rather eaten dirt for lunch than be forced to speak to Marcy Johnson. Leave it to Ms. Wilson to extend a greeting to everybody. Marcy looked from Richard to Elijah and back to me as I realized with a hint of amusement that we all matched. It hadn’t been on purpose, but Richard’s tan suit and brown tie most definitely went with what Elijah and I were wearing.

“Oh, how cute, you all match.” She grinned. “And who are your friends? Have I missed something?”

Nosy bitch. Without Alfred to keep me in line, I decided to respond like I wanted to for once. I indicated Richard to my left as I said, “This is my doctor, Richard Stacey.”

Catching on to what I was trying to do, he extended his hand in greeting as he replied, “Yes, her gynecologist.”

Marcy’s bug eyes nearly popped from her head, but she attempted to maintain her composure. “And you are?” She turned to Elijah, who was clearly having a difficult time opening his mouth and containing his laughter at the same time.

“This is Elijah Jasper.” I smiled sweetly, finding it easier to smile at her if I could be nasty at the same time.

“And what do you do?” she asked, clearly having difficulty taking her eyes from Richard and the smug look he was giving her.

“Oh, it’s not important, I’m just using him for sex,” I interrupted.

Elijah’s eyes widened, as he and Richard visibly fought to control their amusement.

“Oh, I see,” Marcy said, beginning to wave profusely with the ugly fan she was carrying. It matched the awful pink sundress and hat that completed her atrocious ensemble. “Well, if you’ll excuse me.” With that, Marcy awkwardly dismissed herself.

She had barely turned her back before Richard and Elijah both doubled over laughing.

“My gynecologist,” I rounded on Richard with a grin.

“Sorry,” he said panting, “I couldn’t help myself.”

Elijah placed his hand on my shoulder as he said with a wink, “I guess this means we have to sit together now.”

I took them both by the arm and walked toward the porch, ready to face the crowd. Ms. Wilson lived in a large old plantation style house on the opposite end of town from me. Of course, I was out in the middle of nowhere past the other side of town, and she was still inside the city limits. We were greeted more warmly than I had expected by Ms. Wilson as we entered the house amongst a throng of other guests.

She leaned in conspiratorially as she whispered, “Honey, I don’t know what you said to that Marcy woman, but she looks pink enough to match that awful dress.”

“Why, I was only introducing her to my doctor,” I said in my best southern belle voice.

Elijah chuckled and said, “And her sex slave.”

Ms. Wilson may have been old, but uptight she was not. She knew exactly who the men with me were and our comments to Marcy seemed to make her day.

“Oh, I can’t stand her,” she said, cackling. “But, one must strive to be polite,” she added, regaining her composure.

“And where is that Italian of yours?” she asked shrewdly. “Still turning up his nose at my tea party, I assume.”

“No.” I smiled sadly. “Alfred is out of town on business, and he’s not my Italian.”

She raised one eyebrow at my last comment, but left it at that as she began to greet other guests.

As everyone exited the house and crossed the back porch, I admired how much effort the tea party must take to arrange every spring. Small white tables were sprinkled about the large backyard with matching wicker chairs and soft yellow tablecloths. There was a lovely tea set on each table, all with different expensive looking patterns and a small bouquet of fresh wildflowers. Of course, Ms. Wilson didn’t do it all herself. She had servants, but she believed in putting forth some effort herself, which I had always admired. As we looked around for a seat, Richard whispered, “It must be nice to be filthy rich.”

The next few hours passed more quickly than I expected as Kat flitted around taking pictures of unsuspecting people in the middle of eating cream filled pastries or taking a sip of tea. She was wearing a breezy looking white sundress with a matching hat. The three of us managed to get a table underneath a large oak tree, and thanks to the shade, we stayed relatively cool. Halfway through our conversation, I was temporarily blinded by the flash of Kat’s camera.

“You could warn me, you know,” I said, blinking far too fast.

“If I warned you, I might not have gotten such a good picture of you flirting,” she teased nastily.

A flush began to creep up my cheeks as I realized she was right. I’d been sitting there in front of Richard and everybody else obviously flirting with Elijah. The situation would not have been so bad had there not been something between Alfred and me. Though nothing was set in stone, we definitely had feelings for one another. Add that to the fact that I lived in the nosiest town I’d ever even heard of and, as you can see, I was screwed. Most of the town already thought Alfred was my live-in boyfriend. Admittedly, they weren’t far off, but that had not always been the case.

Showing up at local events with Richard was acceptable and no one cared because most of them thought he was gay. It did no good to explain that just because the man kept to himself and happened to color coordinate did not mean he was gay. Although, the color coordinating thing was a little bizarre, it was just Richard. Elijah on the other hand, had only been in town for a few years, was known to be single, and happened to be considered prime real estate. When he blinked those blue eyes, or flashed one of his megawatt smiles, the girls around town flung it so hard you could get whiplash just watching. Rumors were no doubt already in flight.

I was brought back to reality as Ms. Wilson climbed to the top step on the back porch and rang the dinner bell. She had spent the last few hours going from table to table speaking to each person, and most likely asking their life’s history.

“I would like to thank you all for coming and taking this opportunity to have some sun, some tea, and some conversation.” She smiled brightly. “Please continue to visit at your leisure and if you need me for anything, I’ll be at that table over there, adding some whiskey to my tea.”

She walked to her table amongst clapping and laughter from the crowd as I turned to Richard and Elijah. “Well gentlemen, we’ve stayed through the ‘thank you’ speech, I think we can safely leave now.”

On our way out, I spotted Kat in the kitchen.

“I’ll be right out,” I said to Richard and he and Elijah continued out the front.

She turned as I came in. “Happy late birthday,” she said. “Did you get my present?” Her smile was positively evil.

“What present?”

“The one you seemed to be enjoying so well this afternoon.” I must have still looked confused, because she then explained, “I sent Mr. Jasper your way.”

My jaw dropped. “You did wha—?”

“Oh, you didn’t like it?” she pouted.

“What about Alfred?” I was actually a little bit angry. “It was your stupid suggestion that got me to thinking differently about him, and now you’re throwing local cops at me?”

Kat looked at me as if I’d missed the point. “I’m not asking you to marry him,” she said gently. “Look, the guy’s adorable and he’s so obviously got a thing for you. Just spend some time with him. Have some fun.”

“People’s feelings aren’t things that you have fun with,” I said, more sadly than I’d meant to.

“I know that,” Kat said, looking depressed then also. “I only meant that—”

“I know, Kat. It’s just that ... I see the way Elijah looks at me. I just don’t want to hurt him.”

“I understand,” Kat said, putting her arm around me, “But, I’ve seen the way you look at him, too, when you think no one’s looking. You may not feel for him what you feel for Alfred, but you feel something.”

She was right.

“I just want you to be happy, you know? Be able to recognize what’s right.”

“Which brings me back to what I wanted to ask you in the first place,” I said. “I believe the best way to know what is right is by spending some time with what’s wrong.”

I proceeded to make plans with Kat to go to club Red the following night. Since it was a few hours away, Kat offered to make hotel reservations for the night on her, in honor of my birthday. When I walked outside, I found Richard and Elijah still talking by the car. As I approached, Elijah smiled and Richard seemed to pay closer attention to our interaction. Elijah excused himself with a hug and a promise to call me later. Which doesn’t sound so bad, except when he pressed against me, I took a deep breath.

He was wearing one of those great colognes that just smells like a man ought to smell. And with my sense of smell being so much more than it should be, I was aroused. I became suddenly very aware of how close he was and felt my nipples begin to harden against the thin fabric of my dress. Elijah didn’t seem to notice, but the dress was thin, and as I turned back to Richard, he obviously did.

“So, what’s up with you and the cop?” he asked as he opened my door.

“Nothing.” I sat down and watched him give me “the look” as he walked around to his side.

“Well, it looked like something from where I was standing,” he said, as he pulled out of the driveway.

Chapter Ten

After a few minutes of awkward silence, he turned to me with a kind smile and patted my hand. “It’s none of my business. All I know is it’s been years since I saw you smile like you did today. It looked good on you.”

The rest of the ride home was spent in silence. I wasn’t angry. I just didn’t know what to say. When we arrived at my house, I waited for Richard to open the door. Since he was nice enough to be a gentleman, I wasn’t going to ruin it for him. I considered myself as liberated as the next woman, but if a man still finds it in his heart to practice some form of chivalry, I’m not going to kill it with more women’s lib. I am flattered to be treated like a lady. Though I’m definitely no angel, I appreciate the gesture.

As he turned to leave, I stopped him, placing my hand on his shoulder.

“Richard?” I made his name a question.

“Yes?” He turned back to face me.

“Has it really been that long since I smiled?”

He hugged me to him with an affectionate squeeze around my shoulders. “You’ve smiled,” he answered. “But today, it reached your eyes.”

“Thanks, Richard,” I said, pulling back.

“For braving an old woman’s tea party?”

“For being honest.”

“Any time.” His smile reached his kind blue gray eyes and I felt better.

Over the years, and through many sleepless nights of conversation, sharing philosophies about why people are the way that they are, I had come to trust Richard. If he said my smile hadn’t been reaching my eyes, then it hadn’t.

After watching him drive out of sight, I went in the kitchen and made myself a drink. The effects might not last, but a fifteen minute buzz was better than nothing. As I sat there with only Marco’s roses to keep me company, I wondered, not for the first time, what was wrong with me. I had managed to find a nice man, and still I wanted to spend time with Elijah. I didn’t love Marco, but I couldn’t seem to stay away from him either. With another shot of rum, I remembered thinking that if Peter had only loved me, that would have been enough. The memory was very vivid, and I was sure at the time that his love would have been all I needed. Perhaps it was the naivety of youth that made me think so, but it seemed that way to me.

It was the same with Bradley. I was willing to “forsake all others” just to be with him. I knew he was no good, but since when has that ever stopped a woman in love? It’s stupid and cliché, but true. If you love someone, it doesn’t matter how much of a loser they are, you will always look for the good in them. Then one day you come to a point like me, when you can no longer lie to yourself. I try not to lie to people I like, and I like me. I may not like what I am, but that’s something I cannot change. Ever since my attack years ago, I’ve had a sort of love/hate relationship with myself. Who knows, maybe I just love to hate me? But the truth is, I don’t have the balls to cause myself harm, and even if I could, I wouldn’t. I’m too full of myself. Or, maybe that was just the philosophy that half a bottle of rum provided.

However you care to look at the matter, seeing myself through Alfred’s eyes had changed me. Until that point, I had truly seen myself as a monster, not just because of the change in DNA, but the scars, as well. To me, I was damaged goods. But, Alfred didn’t see it that way. When he looked at me, the scars were just another part of who I am ... and he loved me. That was the emotion I had felt in him during the dream, but I had only just realized it.

I’m not sure if it was the alcohol, or remembering what I’d felt for Peter, but I suddenly recognized the feeling. Granted, this could have been any type of love, for it has many forms. But I thought I knew which kind it was. Looking at the nearly empty bottle, I decided I had mixed enough philosophy with alcohol for one afternoon. However, I no longer had the ability to shut off my mind. I laughed to myself, wondering if it were possible to dam up your stream of consciousness.

So, there I sat, taking time to smell the roses Marco had sent two days ago and wondering exactly what it was that I was looking for. Still pondering the question, I went upstairs and packed my bag for the next night. By the time I was finished packing, I had analyzed myself until my head hurt, but I’d developed a theory. A story came to mind of a guy who picked up a snake. He came upon a snake lying beside the road on a cold winter’s day. The snake, nearly frozen, asked if the man would be willing to place him inside his jacket until he was warm again.

“Do you promise not to bite me?” the man asked.

The snake promised. However, a short way down the road, he bit the man anyway. The man dropped the snake and yelled, “You promised not to bite me!”

“Yes,” said the snake. “But, you knew what I was when you picked me up.”

I brought Marco’s roses upstairs and sat them on the writing desk as the thought occurred to me: I knew what they were when I picked them up, the men in my past. All I could figure was I was trying to become a snake charmer. After being hurt badly, more than once, I didn’t believe it was naivety that let me still trust people. It was courage, and the hope that there was some good left in man.

As I collected my sketches from the desk, I flipped to the picture of my hands against Marco’s bare chest. Oh yes, I knew what he was, but this was one snake that I had no intention of picking up.

*****

Kat arrived early the next morning and without Alfred to remind me she was coming, I overslept. So, about thirty minutes later than we had planned, I placed my single black leather bag in the back seat beside Kat’s four pink ones, and we were off.

“So, why don’t you tell me the real reason you want to go out?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied. “It’s for my birthday. I just want to party.”

“Sure, and you might casually end up at club Red,” Kat said.

“Well, I did say I wanted to go back there.”

Kat turned in the seat and attempted to give me an intimidating look, but had to put her eyes back on the road.

“Okay, fine. There’s something I didn’t tell you about the weekend when Elijah and I got kidnapped.”

I went on to tell her how the red headed woman I had killed was Marco’s girlfriend.

“Holy shit.” For a few minutes, that was her only response until, “Why the hell are you going to see him?!”

“Who says I’m going to see him?”

“Don’t play dumb with me Lilith. You’re not that good of an actress.”

I told her about Marco showing up beneath my balcony and the flowers he’d sent, and Kat nearly drove into a ditch.

“Whoa, hold up. You kill his girlfriend, brutally I might add, and he shows up to talk to you, and then sends you flowers. I’m sorry, but what the fuck?”

“That’s what I was hoping to find out.”

“Well, obviously, he doesn’t want to kill you or he wouldn’t have sent you flowers,” she said sounding bewildered.

“Oh no. The look he gave me the other night had nothing to do with murder. But, I admit, I was expecting some sort of retaliation.”

I licked my lips just remembering how good he looked in those damned jeans.

“Maybe since she was with Bade’s group, she and Marco broke up?” Kat suggested.

“Maybe,” I said, thinking out loud. “Or, maybe, he just didn’t care enough about her to retaliate in any way. Maybe she wasn’t worth the effort.”

“My, my, aren’t we bitchy.”

“Sorry, it just comes out some times.”

Kat laughed. “You may be right. I mean, he was dating someone who looked like you, which is creepy by the way.”

“Oh yeah, it’s creepy.”

“But, strangely flattering,” Kat added.

“Yeah it is.”

At that moment, I remembered what Marco had said at the club that night when I’d asked if he was attached to someone. “Yes, but I’m beginning to regret my choices.” I shared this with Kat.

“Ouch,” she said, pulling in at a fast food restaurant.

“Yeah, talk about being kicked to the curb.”

“Well, one thing’s for sure, Marco’s definitely hung up on you,” she said.

“I think you’re right. I was really surprised about the club—”

“What do you want?” Kat interrupted.

“Huh?”

“You know, coffee, breakfast. What are you in the mood for?”

After we finally decided what to eat for breakfast, Kat prompted me, “What were you saying about the club?”

I thought for a moment before continuing, “Oh, I was saying that I figured he owned the club, but I had no idea he’d named it after me. Obviously they were dating at the time. What makes a woman put up with something like that?”

Almost as soon as the question was out of my mouth, I knew the answer. How much shit had I taken from Bradley because I loved him?

“She must have loved him,” Kat said what I was thinking.

That explained the look on her face. I’d have hated me, too.

*****

As I got dressed that evening, I noticed Kat watching me.

“What?”

“Don’t you ever dress like a normal person?”

I decided not to point out the obvious, that I was not a normal person, and instead took a good look in the mirror. Smiling to myself, I thought it looked as if I’d taken a page out of Bade’s book that night. Black vinyl pants hugged my thighs like a lover’s embrace. I wore a form fitting top, so sheer it was nearly transparent, and so deeply red, it was nearly black. The sleeves were short and split over the shoulder, and my red bra was clearly visible underneath.

Just below the shirt, you could see the belt that rode low on my hips, glinting in the light. The buckle was solid silver, carved into the shape of a running wolf. My makeup was tasteful, but I’d gone heavier with the eyeliner than usual, giving my hazel eyes a dark, smoky look. I never wore more than powder as a foundation. I was blessed with an even complexion, but I’m fond of earthy brown lipstick and black eyeliner.

Finally, I answered Kat’s question as I slipped into my black vinyl boots. “I’ve got a vendetta against the fashion police. Remember?”

Kat was still giving me that questioning look when I clipped the silver thumb cuffs to the belt loop at my hip.

“Thumb cuffs?”

I let my smile reveal some of my wicked thoughts as I replied, “It goes with the outfit.”

Kat wore another sensible but chic black dress, and I noticed as we got in the car that she could easily fit in anywhere. On the other hand, I would stand out in most crowds, but that wasn’t exactly anything new. As usual, we didn’t stay anywhere long, and Kat got as drunk as she had the time before. I suppose having a friend along who is half werewolf and practically immune to alcohol would make most people let their guard down. Who needs a bouncer or a bodyguard when they’ve got me?

As we approached club Red, I felt my pulse begin to quicken. Before we entered, I pulled Kat aside and handed her a small silver phial with a spray nozzle attached to the top.

“If I leave and someone tries anything, don’t hesitate to use this.”

She squinted at the bottle. “Werewolf mace?”

“Close enough.” I shrugged.

“What is it?”

“Silver nitrate.”

Kat smiled and swerved slightly as she said, a bit too loudly, “So, you gonna talk to The Big Bad Wolf about that whole killing his girlfriend thing?”

“Ssh,” I said, pulling her past some people who were now staring and pointing in our direction.

“Oh, I get it,” she replied, still not exactly whispering. “You want me to turn a blind eye so you can bump and grind with the bad guy.”

As I led Kat closer to the door, I felt a familiar prickle along my skin. It was the unmistakable feel of power that radiated from the most dominant alphas.

“Hello, Red,” Marco’s rough sexy voice said from behind me.

Kat smiled from ear to ear as I turned toward where Marco stood, draped casually against the doorway. I took my time, letting my hungry eyes take in the sight of him. Marco was definitely eye candy, and I’d always liked sweets. He wore dark red leather pants, so dark they were nearly black, but closer to a deep cherry, with a matching shirt that looked to be satin. The shirt hung open to reveal his natural golden tan as well as the trail of dark hair that spread across his chest, down the rigid curves of his abs to disappear below his belt. I felt him watching me as I traced that trail of hair with my eyes.

“I knew you’d come,” he said.

Kat staggered forward and giggled. “So, do you like to huff and puff, or just blow things down?”

To my surprise, Marco laughed. He flashed her a smile of nice even white teeth as he replied, “I don’t see anything wrong with a little huffing and puffing now and then.” He put his arms around us both as he added, “Please, come in.”

When he stepped close, I breathed in his scent and felt my eyes roll to the back of my head. If someone could bottle Marco’s scent they could sell it as a form of Ecstasy.

Marco led us past the dance floor and up a flight of stairs. There were several booths and tables there that were separated from the rest by wrought iron railing, but had an excellent and elevated view of the dance floor. The air was so thick with the scent of sex and werewolves that even I wanted to howl. Perhaps visiting Marco so close to the full moon was a mistake. The music thumped in my chest like a second heartbeat as I felt Marco press himself against my back. He wrapped his arm around my waist, carefully avoiding the silver belt buckle.

“Would you like to dance first, or get straight to business?”

As I considered the question, I turned to face him. “Are you planning to kill me?” I asked.

“Why, are you planning to kill me?”

I reached out and found whatever it was I’d found that night with Bade. A fever warm and sinuous flowed through my veins as I responded silkily, “Not tonight.”

I watched as the pulse in his throat beat faster at the sound of my voice. He was fighting to control his reaction, but he felt it. Whatever it was, he felt it. Kat took a few shaky steps forward and rested her head against Marco’s arm.

“He smells really good.” She spoke to me as if he wasn’t standing there.

Marco put his arm around her shoulders to prevent her from toppling over the railing in front of us. I had been sadly mistaken on how much alcohol she’d managed to keep down. I had never seen Kat that drunk before.

“I think you may be wrong,” she continued directing her comments to me, as she leaned on Marco for support. When I noticed she wasn’t taking the opportunity to cop a feel, I decided it was time to take Kat home, she wasn’t herself anymore.

“About what?”

“Bad guys don’t smell this good,” she half whispered to me as if she were revealing some secret of the universe.

The grin on Marco’s face could not have been more devilish if he’d had horns. “It’s werewolf pheromones, Kat. Don’t be fooled.” I glanced back at Marco as I added, “He may smell good enough to eat, but trust me when I say, you don’t want hair in your food.”

“Maybe we could get him to wax,” she suggested, running her hand up the front of his bare chest.

This succeeded not only in making me laugh, but I felt some of the sexy power drain from my voice. However, when Marco looked as if that didn’t sound like a bad idea, I pulled her hand, roaming ever lower, from Marco’s body. Kat looked like it was Christmas, and I’d just stolen her present, but Marco laughed and suggested, “Perhaps your friend would like to retire to one of the VIP rooms upstairs, alone.” He added the last part in response to the look I gave him. “She could sleep it off a bit.”

“I don’t need to sleep anything off,” Kat insisted with as much dignity as she could muster. “Can’t a woman make a pass at someone without being considered sloshed?”

“Well, then perhaps I could find someone to accompany her,” he directed the suggestion to me.

“You want me to leave my friend alone with one of your wolves? I don’t think so.”

“Would it matter if I said that I trusted him?”

“No, it wouldn’t.”

“Is he good-looking?” Kat asked hopefully.

Marco smiled. “I think so,” he teased.

Kat leaned forward and whispered, “What do you think? I’ve still got the mace.”

I just shook my head. Marco was listening to our every word. It does no good to whisper in front of a werewolf.

She smiled up at him and replied with more discernment than I thought her capable of at the time, “Why don’t you have him join me at that table over there?”

Marco looked to me before responding. “All right.” He snapped his fingers at a waiter as he said, “Send me Luther.”

Without hesitation, the young man turned and went back past the tables to disappear behind a red door. A moment later a tall man with long white blond hair emerged, looking like he’d stepped off the pages of a dirty magazine. He wore an outfit similar to Marco’s except that it was completely black, making his hair look all the more white, and his skin was more a darker shade of pale than tan. As he approached, I saw that his eyes were a nice clear blue and despite his, at first, creepy impression, he had a pleasant smile.

There was something about him that was very familiar to me, though I couldn’t quite place it until he spoke. “Lilith,” he said. “Don’t you remember me?”

“Oh my God, Luther.” I stepped forward and embraced one of my childhood friends whom I’d not seen in nearly ten years. We had been in drama class together. I couldn’t believe how much he’d changed. His voice and his smile were the only remnants of the boy I had once known. Luther had never been this sexy in high school. I was certain of it.

“How’ve you been?” he asked, looking down at me. Luther was about six-foot-two, but to me, even in heels, that required looking up to answer him.

I motioned around at our surroundings as I said, “About as good as you’ve been, it seems.”

“Does this mean that you’ll leave him alone with your friend?” Marco asked. Truthfully, I’d forgotten he was still standing there. I was so shocked, not only to see Luther again, but to know that he was a werewolf. We had never been intimate, but we were relatively close in school, and for a minute, I didn’t feel quite so alone. But I remembered he was a werewolf and I was something in between so, technically, I was still alone.

“Yes,” I said, still looking at Luther. “I trust him. Now, it’s her I’m worried about.” I smiled at Kat. “Don’t attack the man in public, all right?”

Kat pretended to pout but couldn’t stop smiling as she replied, “Don’t worry, I’ll behave myself.” I watched as she and Luther took a seat at a booth in the corner and appeared to start telling dirty jokes. Maybe he hadn’t changed as much as I’d thought.

“Well?” Marco asked, turning my attention back to him. “What will it be, business, or pleasure?”

I looked him up and down once more, lingering longer than was polite across the front of his tight leather pants. Looking at Marco was like reading a really good book. You just wanted to take your time. As I stepped closer to him again, I breathed in his scent and could no longer keep my hands to myself.

Pulling his shirt open, I placed both my hands against his chest, just as they had been in my drawing. For many sleepless nights, I had longed to run my hands over Marco’s body. His skin was hot, feverish to the touch and I felt the hot sexual power flow over me again as I touched him. My voice became sex as I leaned in to whisper, “You’re hot.”

He gasped in response. Apparently touching his bare skin made it harder to resist the power in my voice.

“Full moon,” he said, his voice growing deeper with desire.

“What about it?” I leaned close enough to breathe in the scent along his collar bone.

“It’s in three days,” he said, swallowing hard.

“Mmm, do you always run a fever so close to transformation?” I pressed my lips to his throat.

“Always,” he breathed.

People at the tables around us were staring, Kat included. Marco and I were beginning to draw our own crowd.

“Maybe dancing isn’t such a good idea,” I said, pulling back from him slightly. It took all I could do not to rip off his clothes and throw him on a table top as it was. If I had danced with him, the audience might have gotten more than a display of my dancing skills.

“Would you like a drink?” he offered, trying to regain his composure. “We could take it in my office.”

“You have an office?”

“Of course.” He smiled, some of his natural wickedness returning as he took me by the arm. “Right this way.”

He led me beyond the red door that Luther had entered through earlier. There was a long corridor with many different rooms off to the side. We went straight down and took a right. All the way at the end of the hall there was another red door that led to Marco’s office. Not only was I surprised at the how well the size of the building was concealed from the outside, but I was impressed with his office, as well. I’m not exactly sure what I had expected, but it certainly wasn’t what I saw. A large mahogany desk stood near the back of the room. Behind the desk and along one wall were rows upon rows of law books from both planets and history books detailing different wars.

To my left, sat a large tan leather sofa, with dark suede pillows nearly covering it from view. Against the opposite wall was a matching chair and ottoman with a deep crimson blanket flung across it that reflected in the highly polished wood of the floor. The chair was pulled alongside a black marble fireplace that, due to the heat, was not blazing at the moment, but it definitely added to the atmosphere of the place.

“Nice,” I said, as my heels made clicking sounds across the shiny floor.

“I’m glad you like it.”

He motioned for me to sit and I chose the straight backed red chair in front of his desk. It was tall and Victorian in style, with ornately clawed golden feet. Yes, the sofa looked much more inviting, but I didn’t want to get too comfortable.

Marco propped against the desk in front of me and I watched in fascination as the muscles along his torso rippled beneath the skin.

“What would you like to drink?”

I got the impression that he was deliberately wasting time. “Is there something you’re avoiding?”

“Is there something that you’re rushing, Red?” There was sex in his voice. Even if he didn’t possess the same power that I had, it was unmistakable. Marco had one of those voices that are normally afforded to hard drinking, chain smoking, blues singers. But, he didn’t drink enough, or smoke enough to have damaged his vocal cords that much. It was just the way he sounded. I wished I had spoken to him more.

“Too much foreplay will lose my attention,” I warned silkily as I stretched my legs forward to prop my boots beside where he rested against the desk.

He raised an eyebrow at my boots, but didn’t comment. “Would you like a cigar?”

“Now you’re just stalling.” I smiled.

As I rose to step near him, he offered me a box of Cuban cigars, vanilla flavored to be exact. I loved a good cigar, but like a good man, they’re difficult to find.

“You do realize that these are completely illegal?”

“Of course.” He flashed me those lovely white teeth as he smiled.

“In that case, I’ll have some pineapple juice and rum,” I said, selecting a cigar from the box.

He gave me that questioning raised eyebrow look again and I explained, “It goes with the vanilla flavor.”

Marco pressed a button on his phone and ordered our drinks, making his the same as mine. He smiled and said, “I’ll take your word.”

“Surely you don’t mean to smoke these in here?” I motioned around the office. “The smell will never come out of the leather.”

“No,” he said, “I thought we’d go out on the fire escape.”

“You’ve already got me alone. Is the fire escape really necessary, or is that just to keep out the smoke?”

The look he gave me was very serious as he replied, “What I have to say to you is private.”

Since I was unsure of how I should respond, I remained quiet until our drinks arrived a few minutes later. Marco opened the window and motioned for me to go first. The breeze felt nice as I climbed out onto the fire escape. I was surprised to find a small chair in the corner. Obviously, this was where Marco went to be alone.

He stood, looking out over the city, but I decided to sit down. I watched as he lit his cigar, took a few puffs, and offered it to me. He hadn’t spoken for several minutes now, and I was becoming anxious, but I took the cigar and gave him the one I was carrying. This one he kept for himself, but still he didn’t speak.

“You’ve heard about the hearing?” he said at last, making it a question.

“Yes.”

“And after your encounter with Bade, I’m sure you know what he’s up to.”

“I have an idea.”

“I need the loyalty of the pack again,” he said, turning to me.

“I thought you said it was Bade’s idea to form packs, like animals, you said.”

He smiled slightly, but not like he was amused. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”

“But, it’s what you said.”

“Give me a break, Red. You were straddling my lap for God’s sake.”

“Fine, what did you mean?”

“What do you know of the pack?” he asked.

“I know that its exact workings are kept secret and normally only shared within the pack itself.”

“That’s right. But, what do you know about the leader of the pack?”

“He’s the alpha,” I said simply.

“Yes, the alpha. However in some instances, there is more than one alpha male. In such cases, they must fight to determine which will lead the pack. To a certain extent, we are animals. But what I meant was, Bade doesn’t want us to be recognized as being even partially human. He wants us to form packs, apart from the normal structure. His methods are brutal. Where my pack has Omega wolves, the lowest ranking within the pack, his would allow for the alpha and beta wolves to have slaves.”

“He was once your beta wolf?”

“Yes, my second in command. But now, he’s split off, formed his own pack and challenged my power.”

“This is all fascinating, but what has it got to do with me?” I asked. I wasn’t rude, just to the point.

“You killed my alpha female,” he answered, but there was no anger in his voice, he was merely stating a fact.

“She was with Bade,” I interrupted.

“Yes, but only because she was blinded by her hatred for you. She would have gone along with any plan as long as hurting you was involved.”

“I see.”

“No, you don’t.”

He stepped closer to me. The smoke from the cigar curled around him like a misplaced halo as he towered above me, but I refused to stand. I’m sure it was a sign of disrespect, but I didn’t care. Just hearing about that woman was making me angry.

“Many of my pack are calling for your death,” he said, “but I won’t allow it. I am still alpha and it is my place to avenge my mate if I choose to, or to order it to be done.”

“So, she was your mate?” More anger than I had intended crept into my voice.

“Not any more. We were a true mated pair once. Though we were no longer a couple, she still served as alpha female to the pack.”

Blowing smoke in his direction, I said, “Well, if you call that an alpha female, no wonder your pack’s in trouble.”

“Do not mock me,” he growled.

I rose slowly, staring him down as much as possible with our height difference. “It is not you that I mock, but your poor choice in women.”

Truthfully, I should have been afraid. I may be tough, but I wasn’t a match for an alpha male, not in a fair fight. Marco could have torn me apart if he’d wanted to, but my anger clouded my good judgment. Just the thought of another woman touching Marco made me see red. He wasn’t mine, but I didn’t like the thought of him belonging to anyone else.

“You’re jealous,” he said, still looking fierce, but the anger had gone from his voice.

“No, Marco, I’m just a bitch and I’ll be damned if I let myself be threatened by someone like her.”

“Which brings me to the point of this conversation, please sit down,” he said, taking a step back and a sip of his drink. “That is exactly the reason I cannot allow you to be killed.”

“What, because they couldn’t take me?”

“No. Because they need you.”

“What?”

“At a time like this, when so much is at stake, they need a strong alpha female to help lead them.”

“Marco, I’m not a true werewolf ... I’m something else.”

“That may be true, but you’re more dominant than they are. They will listen to you.”

“And I’m supposed to listen to you, is that it?”

“You would help to enforce my will, yes.”

“What makes you think that I would even consider such an offer?”

Marco placed his cigar beside his drink on the railing as he came close to me once more. His leather pants creaked slightly as he knelt before me, placing his hands between my knees. He spread my legs and slid me toward him. Eye contact was now unavoidable, and I put down my drink and cigar, as well.

“I hunt werewolves, Marco. It’s what I do. I could never be what you need, even if the hearing goes in your favor and you’re treated as humans again. I’m sure my role as a Hunter would change, but I’d still be a werewolf hunter. The discussion has come up before and if such were to be the case, we would still hunt rogue werewolves.”

“That’s what you do now. I could use such an enforcer to my advantage.”

“Yes, but that’s not what other Hunters have been doing. It’s a crime punishable by death to even be a werewolf. I’ve been sent to carry out that sentence, Marco. I am death to you.”

“But you’ve only been killing those who threaten the safety of others. I know about the woman you left alive because she defended herself.”

“Just because I wouldn’t kill a defenseless woman doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t kill you if I had to.” I tried to make the threat believable but found that I couldn’t say it with as much conviction as I’d hoped.

“I’m not asking you to marry me,” he said.

“Then what exactly are you asking?”

“I’m asking that you be my alpha female, my rufus kulin, my red queen.”

Shock was not a sufficient word for what I felt.

“Are all alpha females given this title?”

“No. Most have to fight for the right to be mated to the alpha male, and even then, their title would be kulin. But, you’re special.” He smiled.

“How do the other females in the pack feel about this?”

“They’re not happy,” he said simply, but not like he cared. “Some are demanding their right to fight for the position.”

“Sounds like you’re very popular.” The anger was creeping into my voice again.

“And you don’t like that.” This seemed to please him, but I’d had enough of the conversation.

“Let me go, Marco. I’m not going to be your bitch.”

His evil smile widened as he replied, “Then, I’ll be yours, just don’t tell anybody.” He winked.

“Marco,” I said, trying to push him away, but he didn’t move.

“Say you will at least consider my offer.”

I opened my mouth, but no sound came. I didn’t want to lie to him. Sure, I wanted Marco, but to become his alpha female would be out of the question. It was something that I simply couldn’t do.

“I can’t.”

“But you will,” he said gently.

He was right, but I wasn’t going to tell him so.

“You’d still be left with the matter of Bade. What will you do, kill him?”

He stood up again and walked back to the railing before answering. “Not if I don’t have to. I keep hoping he’ll realize that he’s wrong. I believe he’s already given up on the idea of being able to replicate your DNA, but he still thinks that he can lead the pack better than I can.”

He sighed deeply and took another sip of his drink. “The longer I let him go, the more he undermines my authority.”

I had honestly never thought much before about the complexities of the wolf pack, but apparently it was more political in structure than I had suspected. The fact that he would even divulge such information to me spoke volumes about how serious Marco’s offer was and how much he trusted me.

I stepped closer, wanting to comfort him somehow, but not entirely sure it was appropriate for me to do so. I didn’t love Marco, but I couldn’t deny my attraction to him. Placing my hand on his back, I said, “I’m not going to lie to you. I don’t know the answer.”

He turned to me and placed my hand over his heart. The feel of his bare skin against my palm felt more intimate than it should.

“What you feel for me is not just lust,” he said softly. “It’s the attraction that one alpha feels for another. You are drawn to me. I can feel it.”

“How?”

“Because I feel the same way when I’m near you. No one else has ever had this effect on me. This is how it’s supposed to be. How you manage to resist it is beyond me.”

“Me, too.”

Chapter Eleven

After a long pause Marco said at last, “When you get tired of fighting it, let me know.”

Once again, I didn’t know how to respond, but if what he said about alphas being attracted to one another was true, then that explained why I couldn’t get him out of my head. I felt better knowing that I wasn’t losing my mind. However, it wasn’t exactly a comfort to know I could be affected by him that way.

We finished our drinks in silence. Finally, I moved beside him and watched as we both blew smoke rings into the dark alley below.

“Don’t think too hard, Red.” His sexy rough voice so close to my ear made me shiver.

“Why’s that? You wanted me to think didn’t you?”

“If you think too much, you’ll talk yourself out of whatever it is that you want to do.”

“It’s not possible for you to know me this well. Until a few months ago, we’d only spoken once.”

“That’s true, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t pay attention,” he said, leaning in enough that his chest brushed against my shoulder. “I was still in training when you came along, the commanders wounded daughter, the one no one was supposed to know had been ... changed, but I knew. I paid attention. I watched as you changed daily, saw your skills improve, and I saw the way the men looked at you.”

He tucked a stray hair behind my ear as he continued. “I saw the effect that you had, but I wasn’t aware of its source until after I was changed. Once in a great while, someone is born with your kind of power.”

He had my attention now. “What do you mean?”

“The sex that radiates from you is no accident, but few can put it into their voice the way that you do.” He paused. “Actually, no one can do it the way that you do.”

Marco must have been able to tell from my expression that I didn’t understand, so he went on. “Extremely powerful werewolves sometimes have special powers, like that of wizards, an area of expertise. Particularly, those who are descended from wizards themselves.”

“But I’m not—”

“How old was your great grandmother when she died?”

“But, what has that got to do with—”

“I’ll tell you, because I was there when your father received the call telling him that she had been killed. She was five hundred years old. Now that’s a stretch, even for the purest of Terran blood, wouldn’t you say?”

“How the hell—?”

“Do I know all of this?” he finished for me. “I believe in knowing your enemy, and you and I have been enemies, have we not?”

I nodded.

“So, I made it my business to know how it was you seemed to have powers that were unexplainable from what I knew of you at the time. You see, your great grandmother’s father ... that would be your great, great, grandfather, was a wizard. The last to die of natural causes while in office at the ripe old age of one thousand, two hundred years. Quite the over achiever if you ask me.”

My knees suddenly felt weak. I leaned into Marco slightly, unable to stop myself.

“You mean that—”

“Mathias Alexander was your great, great, grandfather.”

“But, Joshua Mercury—”

“Was cheated on,” Marco said simply.

Mathias Alexander had been known as The Seducer. It was the power that he had. He could manipulate the senses in ways others could only dream about. Of course, a wizard has other basic talents, but his power was in his voice, and it was his strongest ability. His death and consequently vacated council seat had been the cause of the last wizard war forty years ago.

Marco helped me back down into the chair as he patted my shoulder. “Don’t feel too badly. No one could blame your great, great, grandmother. He was The Seducer, after all.”

It was simply too much to take in. Finally, I asked, “How?”

Marco knelt before me again, resting on the balls of his feet as he answered. “The old man kept a journal, and I, being the lover of history that I am ... happened upon it.”

“You happened upon it?”

“Yes.”

“Bullshit.”

He laughed and the sudden noise startled me. “You don’t trust easily, do you?”

“You stalked my family tree,” I accused.

“I got to know my enemy,” he corrected. “However, the part about your wizard ancestry only became clear to me about a year ago. That’s when I happened upon Mathias’ journal.”

I raised my eyebrows and Marco elaborated further. “I found it in an old bookstore in London. The shopkeeper had no idea what he had. He thought it was some sort of unpublished work of fiction.”

Sliding forward in my seat, I motioned for Marco to come closer. “I want to know something,” I said.

“And you can read emotions the way he could, as well?” He made it a question.

“Yes.” But, if the emotion was strong enough, I could get images from the feeling.

He placed his knees firmly in front of the chair and opened his shirt wide. It was hard to believe that he would willingly subject himself to this sort of personal invasion, but I didn’t question it. I wanted to know if Marco was telling the truth. I wanted to see what he’d seen, to know what it was that he knew. I felt my own thoughts being shut away, like slipping behind a wall in my mind. Yes, I wanted to know, but not at the cost of revealing my own secrets. My palms hovered inches above him and I could already feel the fever that radiated from his flesh. Such a display of trust was unexpected after my reaction to his offer. I decided to accept it as a gift.

His skin was like fire beneath my touch. I opened the part of my mind that senses the feelings of others. It felt as if something tugged at my heart, pulling me down into Marco’s emotions. “Not everything,” I told myself, “Only what I need to know.”

Then I saw it, the old leather bound journal lying on a dusty shelf in a bookstore. I watched through Marco’s eyes as he turned the pages, stopping at last on an unmistakable diagram of an elaborate family tree, hidden in the back of the book. His fingers traced down the page until they stopped at my name. He was telling the truth.

There was no need to look further, but before I could move my hands, another image appeared before my eyes. It was me, walking down the hall from my father’s office. It was the first time I’d ever worn my black leather cat-suit and my hair was longer than it was now. He stopped, I spoke, and I felt him harden with desire. His pulse quickened, and for a moment, he was frightened ... but he liked it. He needed to touch me. It was a desire beyond my description. My hair, he made a comment about my hair and ruffled it gently with his hand.

Then we were in a bar gazing intently at the barely exposed flesh of a woman’s back. It was my back, the first time I’d seen Marco at club Red. How long had he watched me? I remembered feeling his eyes on me. Through his memory, I felt such a pull toward me that it was almost a force of nature. To say that he was drawn to me was an understatement.

We danced and it was relief to touch me, a compulsion indulged, a desire fulfilled. To touch my skin was a need, the same as food and water. He had never felt this for her—Julie was her name. The anger that surged through me at having a name to put with the face that I now despised gave me the strength I needed to let him go.

At last, I was able to break the contact and Marco collapsed forward, resting his face against my thigh.

“You see,” he panted. “I was telling the truth.”

I stroked his hair as one would comfort a dog, and wondered vaguely if it was taboo to pet a werewolf. Of course, that’s not how I thought of Marco. The gesture was involuntary.

“May I see it?” I asked, referring to the journal.

“You can borrow it if you like.” His face was still pressed against my thigh.

“Why would you help me?”

“Make no mistake, Red, I’m helping myself, too. I wouldn’t want you to get the impression that The Big Bad Wolf is noble.”

It felt good to laugh as I continued to toy with his hair. He seemed at ease with his head in my lap, as if it were perfectly natural. After he had allowed me to see inside his memories so intimately, I felt that I owed him some amount of honesty.

“Marco?”

“Yes?” He nuzzled against my thigh like a contented cat.

“I’m not exactly single.”

His laugh was a deep and sensual rumble. “You say that like it matters.” He looked up at me then and his eyes had bled to amber. “You will not find an ordinary man who can satisfy you.”

Alfred was hardly ordinary, but I didn’t think that was any of Marco’s business.

“That may be so, but he deserves a chance.”

“And I don’t?”

My fingers roamed down to clasp the hair at the nape of his neck as I purred, “You’re on my list, Marco. You’re just not at the top.”

He smiled and I tightened my grip on his hair. “Things change,” he said. “It may take some time, but you’ll see that I’m right.”

“You’re just jealous that you’re not on top,” I teased.

Releasing his hair was difficult, but I managed.

“Come on, I’ll show you the journal.” He got to his feet and extended his hand to me.

After stepping back into his office, I watched as Marco removed a very old, very thick leather book from his shelf. The book was faded red and bound by leather straps. Marco held the book out to me, and I was almost afraid to touch it.

“I still can’t believe that you would—,” I began, but he cut me off.

“What, a monster is not allowed some measure of civility?” His tone was only slightly bitter.

“No, it’s just that, well, I was always told you were crazy.”

“What a coincidence,” he said, his voice dripping with irony.

I took the book then, but when I went to untie the leather cords, he stopped me.

“Wait,” he said, placing his hand over mine. “You’ll want some privacy for what’s between those pages.”

That only made me want to open it more, but I nodded my agreement.

“I assume you took a cab here?”

“I drove.” My voice sounded distant, even to me.

“Are you all right to drive?” The compassion in his voice surprised me. Marco was the last person I expected sympathy from.

There I was, holding within my hands a piece of history that might explain to me a great deal about myself. No, I wasn’t all right to drive. I was in shock.

“I’ll take you back to your hotel,” he said.

My knees felt wobbly, so I decided not to argue. It should have felt strange, handing Kat’s keys over to Marco, but it didn’t. It somehow seemed perfectly natural to let him take care of me. That in itself was cause enough for concern, but I was too caught up in my own thoughts to pay much attention.

After the shock had worn off a bit, I would later wonder how it was that I put not only my life, but my friend’s life in his hands. Marco was right. We had been enemies for so many years that they all seemed to run together, and though we’d spoken only once until recently, I felt that I knew him. By reputation at least, I did. In our own way, we were a comfort to each other in that our battle had always been constant. Most people need something constant in their lives, and however strange it may be, Marco was that constant for me, that one thing that I could always count on. If nothing more, he was dependable to always be the devil’s advocate. It had never mattered before, whether or not I liked him. He was the enemy, and that was that. The problem was, as I got to know Marco, I did like him.

We made our way back to Kat’s table where she and Luther were still cracking jokes. When she saw me, the laughter drained from her face.

“What did you do to her?” She turned accusingly to Marco.

I answered for him. “Kat, it’s all right. He didn’t do anything.”

“I shared some news with her that a was a little—”

“Shocking,” I finished.

“What’s that?” She pointed to the large journal that I was clutching to my chest like it was a life raft and I was drowning.

“My great, great, grandfather’s journal,” I mumbled.

Apparently, Kat was beginning to sober up a bit. She took in the shocked look on my face once more before asking, “He wasn’t a werewolf, was he?”

“He was a wizard,” I answered.

Marco and Luther helped to escort us from the building. To the casual observer, Kat and I must have looked like a couple of stone drunks. Marco held me tight against his side since my knees no longer seemed steady, and Luther practically had to carry Kat across the parking lot.

Once I was safely in the passenger seat, Marco leaned across my lap to fasten the seat belt. I got another whiff of his wonderful scent and managed to form a slightly coherent thought, “Why are you fastening me in?”

“If you die, Red, who would I have to play with?”

“You’ve been playing with him?” Kat asked as Luther helped her into the back seat.

Marco laughed as I answered, “No, Kat.”

“But he just said that—”

“Unfortunately, I’ve been instructed to play with myself,” Marco teased.

“Well, that’s a damn shame,” Kat said, leering at him as he fastened her seat belt, as well.

Marco climbed in behind the wheel and gave instructions to Luther to follow us in his car. The drive back to the hotel was quiet, except for Kat humming to herself in the back seat. The darkness of the tinted windows made the small space between Marco and me seem more intimate. He reached over and removed my hand from the straps on the book that I’d been absently toying with.

“Isn’t anyone going to speak?” Kat finally asked.

But, I didn’t know what to say. I was fascinated by wizards and their strange powers. But I’d always thought of them as being so far beyond my reach. Since only seven were born every century, I’d never even met a wizard before. All I knew of them was what I’d heard or read in history books, and now I had the journal of one in my hands. Not just any wizard, but my own flesh and blood. He was one of the great wizards of legend. Stories had been told about him for centuries and believe me, they weren’t all nice. Many a jilted husband blamed The Seducer for their wife’s betrayal.

Part of me was very afraid of what I might find in that journal. I didn’t want to read about the calculated manipulations of innocent women, especially not when one of them was related to me.

Marco made sure we were all right before he left. “Red.” He turned back to me.

“Yes?”

“Wait till you get home to read it.”

“All right.” I sighed.

I didn’t want to wait that long, but seeing as how Marco knew what was on those pages and I didn’t, I was inclined to take his word. Kat was about to collapse, so after Marco left, I helped her get to bed, but I didn’t sleep. Only a few hours separated us from dawn, and I spent them staring at the journal where it rested near the foot of the bed. My world might suddenly make more sense, or become even more confusing, depending on the words in that book. The more I thought of it, the more I didn’t want to know.

I drove the next morning, not just because Kat had a headache, but to resist the temptation of opening the journal. As much as I didn’t want to know, I was still too curious to let it be. I recounted the story to Kat, telling her as much as I knew. There were things I could share with her that I could never tell Richard, even though he was like a brother to me. And what happened last night with Marco was one of them. Of course I trusted Richard, but his views of the world were very black and white. According to him, “You don’t toast marshmallows over the fire that will most likely consume you.” He was right really, but I knew that Kat would understand where I was coming from. We might have been very different in some ways, but she was a woman too, and we both understood that the prospect of having a relationship of any kind with Marco was not completely unappealing.

“How could you ever live with a werewolf though? I mean, you’d have your time of the month, and he’d have his.” Kat laughed. “You might end up killing each other.”

That was true, but the conversation shortly turned to a much more pressing matter.

“What will you do with the journal?” she asked.

“Read it.”

And that’s exactly what I did. After Kat left, I unpacked my bags and spent the day cleaning the entire house. I could always think better if everything was in order, and I wanted no distractions once I got started. When at last I could find nothing more to occupy my time, I sat the book on a blanket in front of the fireplace downstairs. Since it was summer, a large collection of candles sat across the hearth in place of a fire, and I lit them all. Finally, I sat down with a bottle of wine, an empty glass, and my great, great, grandfather’s journal. The place was dark except for the candlelight, lending a ceremonial feel to the room. A fine tremor ran through my body as I began to untie the leather straps that bound the book.

I took a deep breath and opened the journal. Nothing could have prepared me for the image that was hidden just inside its cover. Staring back at me was a picture of the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. He was tall, with broad shoulders and hair the color of a captive flame. His hair was just long enough to touch the fabric of the stunning emerald robes that he wore, and for several minutes I simply stared in awe of his beauty.

Without reading further, I forgave my great, great, grandmother Aurora, for whatever she might have done. No mortal woman could have resisted this man. Hazel eyes so much like my own seemed to smile up at me as I stretched forth trembling fingers to touch a masculine version of my own face.

I couldn’t say how long I sat there with my heart in my throat before I looked at the opposite page. I dropped the book and scrambled backward across the floor, not daring to take my eyes from it. The first page was a letter addressed to me. Slowly, I crawled forward, sat the book back in my lap, and began to read:

My dearest Lilith,

I have longed to know you, and though that may not be possible, through these pages, I give you an opportunity to know me. By now, my reputation will have no doubt preceded me. I will not deny that some of it is true. However, no one will ever understand me as you will, for through you, my power is reborn.

I have seen you in my dreams, and through many visions, I have known you. You are, of course, wondering who else may have read these words, and I tell you none will ever read what I have to say to you. These pages show what I wish for them to show, and I reveal my secrets to no one.

I know how it is that you have learned of me, and I apologize for the shock. Please understand that I saw no other way. This journal had to find its way into your hands.

As far as anyone knows, though I loved many, I had no descendants. There are those who would seek to use you for their own evil purposes, and this I cannot allow. I have watched over our family all these long years, searching for the one who would inherit my power.

From the moment I first saw Aurora, I had visions of you. Though this is the first you have seen of me, please believe me when I say that I have loved you all of my life.

I know your loneliness and your pain, but do not mourn over much for an old man who has lived too long. Another will watch over you in my absence, though he does not yet know it.

Everything will not become clear at once, and there are some of my gifts that you may never receive. However, if you will let me teach you what I know, I can show you how to be so much more than what you have become.

So, shed a tear for me my child, but do not mourn for the arms that cannot hold you, for you will not always be alone.

With all my love,

Mathias Alexander

I hadn’t realized I was crying until I’d finished the letter. I held the book to my chest and cried for a man that had been dead for over forty years. There was more understanding in his words than I could have hoped for and as I read on, I loved him too. Through his words, I saw myself. I also found that the journal was enchanted. It somehow held his life’s story. Every time I turned a page, a new one would appear, though the book never got any thicker.

I did not find the cold and calculating Seducer of legend, but a compassionate individual who felt so deeply the pain of others. As I read his description of “how to ease the troubled mind,” I understood what had happened with Kat, and more recently with Elijah. His touch had been like a balm to the aching soul. How I wished I could have heard his voice.

There is truth in the term “sexual healing” and this, my child, is what we offer. It may not always be in the technical sense of the word, but there is much comfort in the compassionate touch. It is a beautiful and terrible power that you possess and can easily be used to take advantage.

I do not have all the answers, merely explanations that may offer you some comfort.

And they did. The next week passed by unnoticed. I took breaks only to eat, sleep, and use the bathroom, and even then I sometimes took the journal with me. It felt as if I’d finally found someone to understand me. So much was made clear by his words. He gave me meditations to practice in order to more fully control what he referred to as “the voice of seduction.”

On Friday morning I was surprised to reach what looked like the final page as I read:

Do not be wounded when others do not understand you, or grieve too long when your heart is broken, for no ordinary man will ever understand you.

For a minute I paused. It startled me to read the almost exact words that Marco had spoken to me last weekend, and made me wonder what the journal had said to him. It went on to say that only one other wizard had ever come close to being able to manipulate his voice in the same way, and if our paths should ever cross, I would “know him.”

I had no idea what that meant, but I was brought back to reality by his next words:

You will turn to me many times, and find wisdom that was not here before.

But for now, hurry and lift the back cover and get a shower, you are going to be late for your date.

I had forgotten all about my promise to cook dinner for Elijah that night, but I’d learned enough not to question how Mathias could have reminded me after being dead for forty years. It’s best not to question a wizard who could see the future.

I lifted the back cover and found hidden in a small chamber within it, a necklace with a large pink stone encased with silver, and a lock of brilliantly red hair. I knew without being told that it was Mathias’ hair. I turned back to the last page, hoping for more of an explanation but found only these words:

I will explain later.

Realizing that I would get no further explanation until it was time for me to know, I replaced the strange necklace in the hidden compartment, but the hair I examined more closely. As I ran my fingers over the silken red lock I closed my eyes and felt the presence of a man I had never known, though he was as familiar to me as my own face.

“The hair is enchanted,” I heard him whisper. “It was the only way a part of me could ever survive long enough to touch you.”

In my mind, my eyes opened, though my physical eyes remained shut. I saw before me a vision, a balm to soothe my wounds, and strength to ease my weakness. He stretched out his arms toward me and I fell against him.

A peace like I had never known enveloped me as I heard him whisper, “Much of our power is in our touch. Through this, my final touch, I give to you all that I am.”

I looked up into the face of Mathias Alexander, but he could not see me.

“I know that you now look upon what I once was.” His voice broke and tears began to streak his beautiful face. “But I cannot see you. I did not know if you would be my daughter or granddaughter. I only knew that your name would be Lilith, and I would know you when I saw you. Only recently have I seen Jacob, and I knew you would be his child.”

He cradled me against him as he said, “Please accept what I have to give, for it is the only way that I can ever embrace you ... my daughter.”

Immediately, I was flooded with a feeling of such love, peace, and completeness that I was overwhelmed. Never had I felt such understanding. Nothing mattered, there was no world outside his embrace, and even if there was a world beyond those arms, I didn’t want to know. I wanted to live and breathe, and die in his embrace.

But just as suddenly as he had appeared, Mathias was gone and I collapsed to the floor with only the lock of his hair to cling to. I held his hair over my heart as I cried. Instinctively, I knew what it had cost him to appear to me. He had taken his last bit of life, his last breath ... his final touch and put it into that lock of hair. His last moments had been spent reaching out to me with a message that it had taken forty years for me to receive.

The only thing I could do was cry. Never in my life had I felt so loved. Despite Mathias’ advice I mourned him. I grieved deeply for the one person who ever fully understood me, and I would never see him again.

But, after several minutes, when I finally picked myself up from the floor, I realized how very fortunate I was to have had that one moment with him. The more I remembered his lovely face, it gave me hope and I smiled to myself as I got in the shower, knowing that that was what he had intended. I let the warm water wash away the last of my tears, and realized I felt better than I had in months. There was something cleansing in his touch. I certainly hadn’t forgotten about Bradley, or Peter, but it made their memories easier to deal with. Mathias’ touch had helped to settle the emotional storm that had been raging within me ever since I had seen Marco that first night at club Red.

I still didn’t know what the answer was, or what would end up happening to me. I did not have visions of the future on command as he had, but I now knew that whatever happened, somehow everything would be all right. That certainty wouldn’t always last. I’m too much of a worrier for that, but it helped tremendously and was what I needed at the time. The man had used his last breath to give me that message. The least I could do was listen. I took a deep breath and allowed myself to be comforted.

As I looked for something to wear, I made the decision to wait a while before reading Mathias’ journal again. He said that I would turn to him many times and “find wisdom that was not here before.” Since I had reached the end of the book for now, I took that to mean I had read all that I was meant to know at the time. Besides, there’s only so much information one can digest at a time and, in all honesty, my mind was still spinning. I wasn’t sure if I should be shocked, thrilled, or concerned to learn of my mysterious heritage. Just to be sure I hadn’t missed the appropriate emotion, I was all of the above.

Finally, I decided on jeans and a light green t-shirt. The shirt was short, coming just below the waist of my jeans, with a v-neck. I hated long sloppy t-shirts with rounded necks, and I never wore them. I also hated baggy jeans, but after the weight I’d lost recently, my jeans were no longer the perfect fit that they had been. After a while, I reminded myself that this wasn’t a date. We were just going to spend some time together. So, I stopped obsessing over my clothes, fixed my short, disheveled hair, and applied a minimal amount of makeup.

When I finally made my way downstairs, I passed the answering machine on the kitchen counter and noticed I had twelve messages. I had been so engrossed in the journal I hadn’t heard the phone ring all week. Ten of the messages were from Elijah, who was worried after the first four calls, because I wasn’t answering the phone. His last message said he would be there Friday as we had planned, and if I didn’t want him to come that I should call.

One message was from Kat, just checking on me. I was going about my business looking for something to cook for dinner when the last message began to play. “Hello, Red,” Marco’s rough and sexy voice stopped me in my tracks. “I waited as long as I could to call.” There was a pause. “I’m not sure what made me think that you would answer the phone, or what the hell I was going to say if you did.” The machine then announced that the call had been received thirty minutes earlier, when I was in the shower.

There wasn’t time to ponder exactly why Marco had been calling me. I had twenty minutes to get something going before Elijah would be at the door. But, I couldn’t shake what Marco’s voice had made me feel. Maybe I had gone too long without sex, or maybe it was just him. Either way, Marco’s voice did things to me that went beyond arousal. Not because of any magic or particular power in his voice, but because of the man behind it. No matter how much I tried to fight it, Marco just did it for me.

Thanks to Alfred, there was never a shortage of food in the house, so I quickly began to collect the ingredients for a dish I knew by heart, Chicken Marsala. Naturally, the only porcini mushrooms I had on hand were dehydrated, so I quickly tossed them into a cup of warm water to let them soak. I had just started to brown the chicken when I heard a knock at the door. We had a doorbell, but no one ever used it. The door knocker was just too much fun. It was an antique lion’s head with a ring hanging from its mouth, which happened to be made of solid silver. This also succeeded in letting me know whether or not it was relatively safe to answer the door. Whatever was out there, if it knocked, it wasn’t a werewolf. The knocker may have been a bit gaudy, but it went well with the large oak door I had managed to salvage when the old house was renovated most recently by Alfred and myself. The Hunters who were in charge of the first renovation years ago felt that a Victorian style would be more pleasing to the eyes. The original structure had a much different, more medieval look.

I had been attracted to that particular spot, not only because of its lack of neighbors, or because it was in my home town, but because it once belonged to another Hunter.

After the death of the previous owner, The Hunters had retained the rights to the property. However, the Hunter who’d had the place built, leaned a bit to the macabre, and no one was thrilled with the idea of living in a house with a fully equipped dungeon. But the novelty was too much for me to resist.

There’s good money in werewolf hunting, but I got the house and surrounding property at a steal because of its “undesirable amenities.” The space that is now Alfred’s laboratory, used to be a large storage room. Rumor has it, the place was completely filled with bizarre weapons, some of which my father confiscated for his own private collection.

When my training was complete and my father was looking for a place to have me permanently stationed, he knew that I would love it here. Medieval history has always fascinated me, particularly torture devices, which coincidentally, were the only pieces of “furniture” that went with the house.

The house had been empty for over three hundred years before I moved in. I had a suspicion that the man who built it was of wizard descent himself since he died at the ripe old age of seven hundred years. The average Terran life span is around two hundred. Even then, he hadn’t died of natural causes. He was visiting Terra and was killed by a dwarf in a bar fight. Aside from that, all I knew was his name, Vincent Cole. Apparently, he was quite the character. It was a shame that I never met him, but I felt very comfortable in his house, which said good things about him. I have been in many places where I was far from comfortable. However eccentric Vincent might have been, I could say with certainty that he was not evil.

Chapter Twelve

I opened the door expecting to be berated for not returning any of his calls but found Elijah to be in his usual good mood. My heart leapt when he smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but return the expression.

“Are you all right?” he asked, stepping through the door.

“I’m fine. I’ve just been busy.”

“So, what are we having?”

“Oh shit.” I ran back toward the kitchen just in time to save the chicken from burning.

Elijah entered the kitchen with a smirk and replied, “I’ve never had ‘oh, shit’ before. What’s it like?”

“Mess with me and you’ll end up with this chicken in places the French toast couldn’t reach.” I punctuated my words with the jab of a fork and a sarcastic grin.

“Such hostility.” He laughed. “Can I help?”

“Sure.”

Elijah pitched in and within the hour, dinner was served, but not like a volley ball the way the toast had been. Cooking with him was fun and as usual when I was around Elijah, I forgot to worry when I saw his smile. Most likely, I enjoyed displaying the food more than I enjoyed cooking. Leave it to an artist to think the plates needed to be decorated. But I believe that food is a lot like people. It’s all in the presentation. You can make a perfectly good dish unappetizing with a bad presentation.

Speaking of perfectly good dishes, Elijah looked great. He managed to wear dress shirts with jeans and make it look good.

“Why don’t we take this in the sitting room?” I suggested.

“I’m agreeable to that.”

We moved to the small coffee table in front of the fire and I asked Elijah to light the candles while I retrieved a bottle of wine from the dungeon.

“You mean wine cellar, right?”

“No, we keep wine in the dungeon.” I fought to keep a straight face.

“This I’ve got to see.”

“Wouldn’t you rather wait until after dinner for the grand tour?”

“If I let the chicken get cold, will you make me wear it?” he teased.

“Quite possibly.”

“In that case, I’ll wait until after dinner.”

The dungeon was an excellent place to store wine as it was the coolest location in the entire house. It had a rather large closet which was used for nothing but wine storage. We’d had several tall racks built into the closet walls so the room was lined with wine bottles. After a moment’s thought, I selected a bottle of Vigorello San Felice 1998. It’s a wonderful Tuscan wine that smells of chocolate and berries with a touch of vanilla. I’ve found that it goes very well with chicken.

When I returned with the wine a few minutes later Elijah asked, “You really have a dungeon?”

“Let it go, Elijah.”

The wine was good, but the company was better, as I once again managed to lose myself in his eyes. Until then, I didn’t know much about Elijah personally, so I enjoyed hearing where he was from, about his younger sister, and his love of animals. He had moved here from a small community just outside of Tulsa, Oklahoma. His sister, Mary, was two years younger than him and was working toward her degree in interior design.

He said that had been the reason he wanted to talk to Kat. “I’m trying to talk her into moving here after she finishes school,” he said. “It would be good experience for Mary if Kat would be willing to give her a job.”

“Good experience for her, huh?”

“Well that and I could keep a closer eye on her,” he confessed.

Before I could stop myself I asked, “And does she also have her father’s eyes?”

He leaned back slightly, and I saw a trace of surprise on his face, but not fear.

“How did you know that?”

“It would take too long to explain, but just now, as I looked at you, I saw your father.”

“Does that happen to you often?”

“No, this is the first time.”

He looked at me intently for a few minutes before answering. “No, she has my mother’s eyes. They’re green.”

I reached out to touch Elijah’s face as I gazed more deeply into his eyes, almost as if I were in a trance. He was gorgeous, but it wasn’t him that I saw. It was the feeling behind his eyes, the thoughts running through his mind. I didn’t know them all, but I could sense them.

“They say that the eyes are the windows of the soul.” I used the hypnotic quality in my voice, but without the overtones of sex, like when I spoke to Marco.

Elijah leaned into my touch as he asked, “And what do you see?”

“Hope.”

“Is that all?”

As I brushed my thumb underneath his eye I answered, “Your smile hides many worries, but you do not hide behind it. You are genuinely happy.”

He sighed deeply and closed his eyes, leaning farther into my touch and I couldn’t help asking, “Don’t you have other things to do besides spend time with me?”

Elijah opened his eyes, but his lids were heavy, as if he were intoxicated. “There are other things I could be doing, yes. But nothing I’d rather do.”

“That’s sweet,” I said softly, “but you should be careful whose company you keep.”

“Why? Are you dangerous?”

“To you ... I’m afraid that I am.”

He slid closer. “Is this something that you see, or something that you feel?”

“Something that I’m afraid of,” I whispered as his lips came dangerously close to mine.

“Would you ever hurt me?” he asked.

“Of course not.”

“Then why are we having this conversation?”

With that question he closed the distance between us. For one stunned moment, I didn’t respond, but then I wrapped my arms around him. He felt firm and warm beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, and I breathed deeply of his wonderful cologne.

His lips tasted of sweet red wine and I drank him in. I held him more tightly, running my hands through the softness of his hair. But the feel of Elijah’s soft hair between my fingers brought back the memory of someone else whose hair shined like polished obsidian in the morning sun, and I pulled back.

“I’m sorry.” His breath was a warm promise against my lips.

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.” He sighed as our lips met once more.

“I can’t,” I whispered, pulling back again.

“It’s Alfred, isn’t it?” he questioned with a frustrated sigh.

“Yes.”

“Is it just the Italian thing?” he asked.

“No.” I smiled. “But that doesn’t hurt.”

I was relieved to see his smile return, lacking none of its usual charm.

“I took Spanish in high school,” he said, doing a fairly decent imitation of a Spanish accent.

When I laughed he said, “Don’t worry, I won’t push the issue.”

“Is it really an issue?”

“No, not really. I enjoy being around you.”

“Me, too,” I confessed. I meant I enjoyed being around Elijah, but the comment sounded like I was full of myself. Fortunately, he seemed to get my meaning.

“So.” He got to his feet. “Let’s not screw with that.”

It was nice to know that he didn’t plan to stop coming by. I really did like spending time with Elijah and the thought of not seeing him depressed me. Going without his smile would be like never being able to watch another sunrise.

“But, if you ever want to screw, I did give you my cell number, didn’t I?”

“Come on.” I laughed. “I’ll show you my dungeon.”

Elijah followed me through the foyer into the kitchen, where I collected the key to the dungeon before entering the door that led down to Alfred’s lab. The staircase was narrow and dark, barely wide enough for two people, and made completely of stone. It looked as if someone had carved the steps out of a natural rock formation long ago. The years and many footsteps had worn them until the edges were smooth.

“How do you see down here?” he asked.

“I have excellent night vision,” I replied taking his hand. “And Alfred knows the way by heart.”

“What did he do before then?”

“He used a flashlight. There are sconces along the wall with torches, but in the time it would take to light them all, I could just show you the way.”

I led him down for a ways before turning to an ornately carved door to the left. I took the lighter from my pocket and lit the torch beside the door in order to give Elijah a better view of the etchings.

“What’s that way?” He pointed down the stairs.

“That way goes to Alfred’s laboratory.”

Elijah turned his attention back to the door. An elegant archway was carved into the surface, amongst a tangle of vines and leaves so real that I almost expected them to part in order to pass. Elijah reached out his hand and traced the delicate pattern with his fingertips.

“What’s it made of?”

“Silver.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Yes, but I believe its purpose was to keep werewolves from escaping the dungeon.”

He continued to stare in fascination at the carvings until I opened the door with the silver key I’d picked up in the kitchen. Stone steps similar to the ones that had led us thus far, continued down into the dungeon. This was not the dank and frightening dungeons in history books, but a magnificent display of architectural talent. The ceiling that arched upward, reminiscent of a castle, was carved from the same gray stone as the steps. The arches were carved just as expertly as the pattern on the silver door, making them look smooth to the touch. However, as they met the wall, the stone had been only roughly chipped away except for the pillars sculpted to meet the arches of the ceiling.

“Wow.” Elijah stared in awe at the ceiling while I lit the torches along the wall.

“That was my first impression, too.” I smiled.

I explained to him that the dungeon had been what attracted me most to the house.

“I can understand why,” he said, running his hands over the magnificent pillars.

Just then, Elijah began to notice the many unusual devices around the room.

“Holy crap,” he said, eyes wide. “Did it come with all this?” He motioned around the room.

“Yep. Would you like the grand tour?”

“Can you tell me how it all works?” he teased.

“Of course.”

“In that case, let ‘er rip.” He smiled.

“Okay.” I decided to start with the table along the wall, which was an antique itself. “This,” I said indicating the first device which resembled a double headed fork attached to a leather collar, “was known as The Heretic’s Fork. The sharp points on each end are placed deep into the flesh under the chin and into the sternum. It completely prevented all movement of the head, allowing the victim to only whisper a confession.”

“And this,” I said moving on to an object which resembled a pair of brass knuckles with long curving claws, “is The Cat’s Paw, also known as the Spanish Tickler. It was used to rip the victim’s flesh from their bones.”

To my amazement, Elijah seemed to be enjoying the tour.

“What about this one?” He picked up an elongated pear shaped object with a golden handle.

“That’s The Pear. Are you sure you want to know what this one was used for?” I teased.

“Sure, how much worse could it get?”

I laughed as I replied, “The Pear was inserted orally, anally, or vaginally, and then,” I pressed the golden handle and watched Elijah jump as it opened, “it was expanded.”

He replaced the object to the table, careful to touch only the handle.

“Now, this one I recognize. It’s a chain whip, right?”

“Right, except with this one, the chains are pure silver.”

“And that’s a Rack.” He pointed to the object that resembled a long table with a crank along the opposite wall.

“Impressive.” I smiled. “But can you tell me what that is?” I pointed to an apparatus in the far corner that could only be described as bizarre. It looked like a stool, except there was a large silver triangle in place of the seat. Above this was a belt suspended in mid-air by three chains, one attached to the ceiling, and one to each wall in the corner.

“Tell me it wasn’t used to treat hemorrhoids,” he pleaded.

“Close, but no cigar. It was known as The Judas Cradle. The victim was hoisted up with the belt and chains and lowered onto the point of the pyramid in such a way that their weight would rest on the point positioned in the anus, the vagina, under the scrotum, or underneath the last two or three vertebrae.”

“Goddamn,” he exclaimed.

“My thoughts exactly. But have you seen the one over there?” I pointed to the contraption in the other corner, down from the Rack.

“It’s familiar, but I can’t think of its name,” he answered as he walked over to get a closer look. It was a tall sarcophagus looking device that sat upright with many large spikes inside the back, and along its two doors.

“That’s The Iron Maiden. It was used more for execution than torture, since practically no one ever survived its use. The victim was placed inside and the doors were shut, impaling them on all these lovely spikes,” I added the last in response to the horrified expression on his face.

“Lovely?”

“I’m just teasing.” I snickered. “You look pale. Do you want to see the rest?”

“How many more are there?” He looked around the big room nervously.

“Just one.”

I walked over to a small highly polished wooden platform. Along the back of this was an upright plank with a narrow seat attached. Above the seat, slightly more than shoulder height on most people was a leather strap. This strap was attached to a crank on the back of the board.

As I sat down on the device I explained its use. “This is my favorite piece of equipment,” I shared. “It’s called the Garrote. With the turn of this crank, the strap would tighten, asphyxiating the victim.”

“And why is this your favorite?”

A wicked smile spread across my lips as I answered, “You don’t want to know.”

“Ah, but it’s past our first date. Does the rule about restraints still apply?”

“I’m afraid so.” I walked to the large oak door at the back of the room. “Would you like to see the rest?”

“There’s more?”

“Oh yeah, this is the best part.” I placed the same silver key into a door and, with a good bit of effort, slid it open.

With its thick dark wood and reinforced silver bolts, it looked like someone had ordered the door from ‘Dungeons ‘R’ Us’.

“Won’t you come in?” I offered with a melodramatic flourish of my wrist.

“I’m scared.” He laughed, but he walked through the door.

To say that the dungeon was large would have been an understatement. It covered at least two thousand square feet, making it slightly larger than Alfred’s lab. The first room beyond the door had shelves along the wall, but was otherwise bare, except for the continuation of the beautifully arched ceiling with its columns, and torches.

Elijah followed while I lit the torches in this room, also.

“Was this a library?” he asked.

“I’m really not sure, but I think so. That would explain the shelves anyway.”

“What is this exactly? It looks like a whole apartment built under here.”

“It is,” I said, leading him into the next more spacious area that must have been a bedroom.

“But why would anyone ...?” He seemed at a loss for words.

“I have no idea, but wait till you see the bathroom.”

One last door, which was a smaller version of the heavy oak, separated us from the bathroom, and I opened it with the same silver key.

“Holy shit.” Elijah laughed as we stepped inside.

“This is the only room with anything even remotely resembling modern conveniences,” I said, indicating the black marble toilet in the corner. “Why they would go to the trouble to put in plumbing and not run electric lights is beyond me.”

Elijah looked at me like I was crazy. “I’m sure they didn’t have electric lights when this place was built.”

I shrugged. “The Hunters did and it was owned by a Hunter before me. Naturally, Alfred and I had electricity wired for his lab, but we decided to leave the dungeon as it was.”

“You had electricity run in the lab and no one asked questions about this place?”

“We had it done by a special team. Not everyone who works for The Hunters tracks down werewolves.”

“Wow,” he said for the second time.

“I love this,” I said, seeing what had caught his attention.

I walked over to the large round tub. It was set deep into the floor with what was the most beautiful collection of smooth colored rocks that I had ever seen, many of which I recognized from Richard’s rock chart. There were all varieties of quartz, amethyst, citrine, rose, tourmaline, and tiger’s eye. The range of color was amazing. It was also the only color in the room.

The entire bathroom was carved from a darker, almost black, smoky looking rock, but it was beautiful. Past the tub, which sat in the middle of the room, was what could be described best as an open shower. There was a drain in the floor and a shower head in the wall. That was pretty much it.

“I guess you don’t need a shower curtain when everything around you is rock,” Elijah speculated as he examined the shower head.

“I guess not, but how would you explain these?”

Elijah had yet to notice the silver shackles I had indicated with my last words.

“Oh my, God.” He laughed.

I wasn’t sure how to respond other than to laugh with him. Directly beside the shower, firmly affixed to the wall were two long silver shackles that, judging by their height, had been meant to restrain the wrists.

“S&M anyone?” I offered with a laugh.

“Hey, it’s better than that Pear thing,” he pointed out.

“That’s true, but they might chain you up in here and then use The Pear,” I suggested nastily.

Elijah shuddered. “Let’s get out of here.”

Once we were safely back upstairs, he said, “It’s getting late, I guess I should be going.”

Again, I wasn’t sure what to say. I had enjoyed the evening, but Elijah had to go. The fact that I was lonely without Alfred in the house gave me no right to want him to stay.

So, I smiled and said, “I’m glad you came, I had fun.”

As we walked to the front door, he asked, “What are you doing next weekend?”

“I’m seeing you.”

“Really? Is that a prediction of the future?”

“No, I just figured you had something in mind or you wouldn’t have asked.”

The smile he gave me made his eyes sparkle and I almost giggled. You know the giggle I’m talking about. That silly, girlish giggle we all have in high school. It’s the one that comes out involuntarily when the guy you think is gorgeous smiles at you. I hated it when a man could make me unleash that terrible giggle, but I managed to fight it this time.

“When’s the last time you played a board game?” he asked.

Well, I wasn’t expecting that.

“Why, are you board with me?” I responded.

“Wow, that was a really bad joke.” He laughed.

“Yeah, it was. But, to answer your question, it’s been a long time since I played any type of game.”

“Why don’t we get together next Friday night? You can invite Kat, too, if you’re afraid to be alone with me.”

“Afraid? Of what?” I teased.

“You know, not being able to resist me and all,” he joked.

I laughed as I replied, “Actually, I think Kat would enjoy it, but don’t take my inviting her the wrong way.”

“How’s that?”

“I can prevent myself from molesting you if I choose to.”

“Unfortunately.”

After hugging Elijah goodnight, I watched as he drove away. A storm was brewing and I could smell rain in the air. Lightening flashed in the distance as the wind began to pick up, blowing stray leaves past me into the house. Somehow the prospect of going to bed alone didn’t appeal to me at the moment. So, I decided to clean the kitchen instead. After all the dishes were put away, and the remaining wine placed in the fridge, I resigned myself to going to bed.

Normally, I love to sleep and getting me to go to bed has never been a problem. I had not grown accustomed to sleeping with Alfred, but I had gotten used to the idea of having him in the house. I liked knowing that he was around, even if I didn’t see him. I felt safe just knowing he was there.

I hadn’t expected to miss him so much. The past week hadn’t been too bad, because I’d had Mathias to keep me company. But with the journal not speaking to me at the time, I had no one else to talk to. It wasn’t that I had so much to say or that Alfred and I even talked that much before. I just missed having a companion. We could have breakfast together and never speak without the silence being awkward. Not because we were angry, but we could spend time together, even when we didn’t have anything to say.

I had just reached the foot of the stairs when someone rang my doorbell. I froze in mid step with my hand on the banister. No one that I knew rang the doorbell, which meant that whatever was at the door might not be completely human. Why else would they avoid the door knocker? Stepping closer, I strained my ears to hear above the rumble of the thunder, listening for any clue of what was on the other side of the door.

“I know you’re there. Open the door.” It was Marco’s voice, but it lacked his usual smooth appeal. Something was bothering him.

I opened the door. The rain hadn’t started yet, but the promise of moisture hung like a wet kiss on the wind. It seemed appropriate for him to be standing there on my front porch in his faded jeans and tight black t-shirt, his dark hair tousled by the fierce wind.

“Hello, Red.” His voice no longer lacked appeal of any kind, and neither did the rest of him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Don’t believe in foreplay, do you?”

I crossed my arms in frustration as he said, “Fine, but can I at least come in?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Marco.”

“You still don’t trust me.” He sighed.

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t trust myself either.”

“Not really, but it does wonders for my ego.” His smile was wicked. “Are you just going to leave me out here in this weather?” He gestured at the leaves blowing past him.

“Why don’t you have a seat and tell me what you’re doing on my front porch.” I indicated the two white wicker chairs at the corner of the porch that were separated by a small matching table.

The ferns hanging between the columns were taking a real beating so I decided to take them down while motioning Marco in the direction of the chairs.

“Careful, Red. You’re going to hurt my feelings.”

“It’s not your feelings that give me cause for concern,” I said, moving the ferns close to the door so they wouldn’t blow away.

His laugh was a sensual, masculine sound that caused me to shiver in response.

“And what do I have that concerns you?” he asked.

Making my way back to where he sat, I replied, “Let’s not go there.”

“So, what did you think of the journal? Fascinating read, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but ... I have to ask, what did it say to you?”

“Well, first it told me in no uncertain terms that the journal was to come to you.”

“I take that to mean you don’t expect me to return it?”

“No.” He smiled. “Borrow was the wrong choice of words. He meant for it to be yours.”

“What else did he say?” I prompted.

Marco grew more serious as he responded. “He said that what he would eventually share with you would never be seen by another living soul, no matter how many times they read his journal. So, I read his life’s story, his day to day activities, without hint or detail of how he accomplished ... anything. But, I got to know him and you through what he said. Mathias was a good person. He was kind, but he didn’t want everyone to know it.” He paused, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“The more I get to know you, the more I realize how alike you and Mathias are. And thanks to his journal, I know him very well. I would say that he has unknowingly given me an insight into you, but I don’t believe that man did anything unknowingly.”

“I agree.” I turned in my chair so I could face him. “Are you saying that’s how you seem to know me so well, from reading Mathias’ journal?”

“Yes. I don’t think you appreciate how similar you are.”

“And I think the only thing you appreciate is how powerful he was.”

“What are you suggesting, Red?”

“I’m suggesting that the only reason you offered me the position of kulin is because you want to use the power that has been given to me to dominate the wolves.”

He laughed, but it was a bitter and wicked sound.

“Is that what you think of me?” His voice became a growl as he continued, “I already dominate the wolves. I do not need the power of The Seducer to control my people.”

“Then why?”

Marco rose from his chair and began to pace. The storm blowing around us seemed to match his mood as he stalked up and down the porch like a tiger in a cage.

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I just like you?”

“Not really. I don’t believe you like anyone enough to share your power.”

“And I believe that you are overconfident in yours.” His voice rumbled like the coming thunder as his eyes faded to amber.

“Don’t threaten me, Marco.” My voice was a deadly whisper that carried on the wind.

He snarled, baring his teeth slightly as a wolfish growl escaped his human throat. Somehow, I was not frightened by his threat. If anything I was irritated by it because I knew that Marco had no intention of hurting me. Everything about him promised violence, his stance, the way his muscles tensed in response to my voice, and his wild eyes. I should have been afraid of the sheer size of him compared to me, but I wasn’t. Something in the way he had touched me during our last encounter let me know he wouldn’t harm me. I couldn’t explain it. I just knew that it was not the norm for the alpha male to nuzzle against someone’s thigh.

Slowly, I rose from my chair, moving toward him intent on making my moves as graceful as a cat as I felt that door in my mind open. That sensual switch had been flipped, and I intended to use it.

“You may huff and puff, Marco, but this storm is more likely to blow me down.” I placed my hand on his chest and he growled at me again.

His skin was not feverish beneath his thin shirt like before. The full moon had passed earlier in the week, but he was still warm and his muscles were firm beneath my touch.

“Careful, Red, you go too far.”

The wind blew over us, sending Marco’s scent across me like a wave.

“I don’t think so.” I sighed.

His eyes slowly faded back into a chocolate brown as he responded disappointedly, “I never should have submitted to you, now I can’t even manage a decent threat.”

“Submitted to me?”

“Don’t pretend not to know the significance of my actions.” His tone was no longer threatening, but his tense posture hadn’t changed.

“I really don’t,” I answered, letting the power fade from my voice. No need to pull out the big guns if no one was opening fire.

“How can you hunt something for so many years and not understand it?”

“I’m not a member of the pack, remember? I understand as best I can not being allowed on the inside.”

Marco sighed as he reached for me. After the way he had just threatened me, I shouldn’t have let him touch me, but I did. He placed his hands gently above my elbows, massaging the muscles of my biceps. I watched as the tension drained out of him, like pouring water from a glass.

“When I laid my head in your lap, that was not a gesture an alpha normally makes.” He didn’t make eye contact when he admitted this, which was a gesture that I knew alphas didn’t normally make. You could always tell if a werewolf was dominant, based on whether or not they would meet your eyes.

“I figured as much,” I said.

He looked in my eyes as he continued, “I submitted myself to you and by the way you touched me, you accepted my submission.”

I’m sure he could tell by the look on my face that I needed some clarification of the term “accepted.”

“That doesn’t mean that you have accepted my offer to be kulin. It means that you accepted the gesture as a sign of respect.”

At the time, I had been moved by Marco nuzzling against my thigh. That was why I’d stroked his hair. I felt that some response was necessary on my part, and I’d wanted to comfort him. His hands against my bare skin seemed more intimate than it should and where my palm rested against his chest, I felt his heart beat faster.

He could have torn me apart any time he wanted to and somehow that uncertainty excited me. Marco wasn’t the only one attracted to power. The thought of someone submitting to me when they could just as easily have killed me was a rush. It was erotic to me in a way that I could not describe. His hands massaged when they could have destroyed and with that simple touch sent a fire through my veins.

“Don’t reject me now, Red. Not when I’ve come to warn you.”

“I wasn’t planning on taking back my actions,” I said softly as I brushed my hand absently across his chest. Without realizing what I was doing, I traced the contours of his muscles beneath the thin cotton.

“A little to the left,” he whispered as he leaned in to brush against my face.

“What is?” I asked, unable to control the urge to rub my cheek against his.

I was enjoying the way his late evening stubble felt against the smoothness of my skin when he replied, “My nipple.”

I pulled back to see his face and he was smiling.

“I heard about Bade,” he explained. “Bastard had it coming.”

“You liked that, did you? Now, what did you say about a warning?”

Marco looked serious again as he explained. “Remember when I told you that there were members of my pack that were upset about my actions?”

“You mean your offer to me?”

“Yes.” He paused as if unsure of how to proceed. “Some of the female members are threatening to attack you in retaliation for not being allowed to compete openly for the position.”

This surprised me. “But, I haven’t accepted anything.”

“Maybe not, but you killed the alpha female, which makes the position of kulin ... and me, yours for the taking.” Something about the way he said those last few words made the muscles low in my stomach clench in response.

“Are you telling me that you have no say in the matter?”

“Of course not, but if a female were to fight her way to the top, I’d have to have an awfully good reason to refuse her.”

“How about because you don’t want her?” Anger blazed in my voice.

“You are jealous of me, aren’t you, Red?” He smiled, obviously enjoying my response.

“I’m serious, Marco. You can’t honestly tell me that the wolf king has no say in who he mates with. That’s ridiculous! You’re the king. That should count for something.”

“It does. If I’m truly opposed to the idea of mating for whatever reason, she can serve as alpha female until she is challenged and defeated. But she will not truly be kulin unless she is my mate.”

“I see. Did you make up that rule to prevent ugly women from becoming queen?”

He laughed, but there was an underlying threat in his voice. “You have no idea how much you get away with, do you?”

“Apparently not.”

“It’s the reason many of them hate you. Even the former alpha, though she was at one time my mate, was not allowed to treat me the way that you do.”

“How would any of them know how I treat you?” I sounded paranoid, even to myself.

“People are always watching, Red.” His smile returned. “No one has ever been allowed to touch me.” He tucked a stray hair behind my ear. “Or to put my desires on hold the way that you do.”

“It’s not healthy to get everything you want,” I retaliated.

He laughed softly. “I agree, but there are some things worthy of persistence.”

“That’s sweet, but I don’t cave under pressure.”

“I’m not here to pressure you, Red. I want to protect you.” There was a tenderness in his voice I hadn’t expected.

Marco wrapped his arms around me, cradling my head against his chest. I was at a loss for words. The man I had been taught for so long was my enemy wanted to protect me. Confusion was too mild a term for what I felt. Part of me wanted nothing more than to accept his offer, even though I wasn’t sure what I was being protected from. I kept thinking that there must be a reason behind his offer other than any personal feelings he might have for me, but I couldn’t think of any.

Honestly, with Marco that close I couldn’t think of anything. So, I let him hold me for a while as the storm raged around us. The first few drops of rain began to hit the trees with a soft hissing sound. It was almost like the wind was whispering, “Ssssshhhhh.”

My voice was barely audible when I finally spoke with my face still pressed against him, “I can’t accept your protection, Marco.”

“Why?” He sounded hurt.

I pulled back enough to look at him.

“Because I’m not yours to protect.”

Chapter Thirteen

“Damn it,” he said hotly. “I knew you’d say that.”

He pulled back, running his fingers through his dark hair in frustration. This movement only succeeded in flexing his biceps enough to distract me. I had difficulty thinking clearly when I was that close to Marco, so I took a step back.

“Is it because of who I am, or what I am, or just because you’re too stubborn to admit you might need help?”

His last comment chapped my ass enough to inspire a nasty reaction.

“Did anyone tell you how I killed Julie?” My voice had a deadly edge to it, like a snake about to strike.

“No,” he answered, and wasn’t able to meet my eyes.

As I continued I knew that I should stop, that I was being deliberately cruel, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. “Well, I’ll tell you. I flung her like a ragdoll, until her bones cracked and her hair fell out in chunks.” I cracked my knuckles to emphasize my last words. “And then, when she was so broken that she couldn’t move, I broke her neck.”

For a moment Marco looked like he was going to be sick and I asked a question that I had no right to ask. “Did you love her?”

I could scarcely believe I had said the words out loud. It was none of my business, and it would have served me right if he’d said so. Instead, Marco met my eyes without hesitation and replied, “No, but I knew her for a long time. It’s just difficult to hear.”

I felt like an asshole, but saw no point in stopping there. “If you don’t want to hear more stories like that, tell your bitches to back off or they’ll be just as dead as Julie.”

“If you fight them, whether you mean to or not, you are competing for me,” he pointed out.

“That’s not my problem.”

“Yes, it is. There are some females moving up quickly in the pack, challenging the higher ranking wolves. They will not fight fair.”

“If they’re fool enough to attack me, neither will I,” I growled.

“Damn it, Red, if you’d just let me help you,” he began.

“If I accept your offer, then you could protect me, is that right?”

“Yes.”

I sighed. “So, that’s why you came by.”

“That’s not the only reason.” A touch of growl was creeping back into his voice.

“I’m sorry, Marco, but that’s not going to happen.”

He snarled and snapped at me in a quick gesture that, though not human, its meaning was clear.

“Fuck you, too,” I said as he retreated down the front steps into the rain.

“Any time you’re ready,” he growled over his shoulder.

“Wait, where’s your car?” I yelled to be heard above the storm.

“At the end of the drive,” he answered without turning around.

Through flashes of lightning I watched as Marco walked down the drive, the lines of his body rigid with anger. The rain had soaked him through before he’d even reached the arch of white roses across the yard. I put my hands in my pockets to prevent reaching out to him and bit my lip to keep from calling him back. Would I have been using Marco if I’d called him back? Was it just his animal magnetism that made me take an involuntary step forward? Or was it something else? I ended up sitting on the top step, just out of the rain. If I took another step, even to try to go back in the house, I knew my feet would end up taking me to him. As he moved farther down the drive, I thought of the long night ahead of me and slid to the next step.

The rain was a cold shock, like icy needles against my skin. His hips swayed as he walked and thoughts came to my mind so sexual and raw in nature, that I doubled over and crawled down the next two steps. I wanted Marco so much that it physically hurt to resist him. My clothes were soaked through by the cold rain, but I could not be cooled. A fever burned in me that had nothing to do with my power and everything to do with my desire to rip those wet jeans from his body and possess the warm flesh of the man beneath.

Steam began to rise from my body where the rain touched me, and I would not have been surprised if it sizzled. I crawled down the last few steps, gasping for breath around the longing that I felt. At last cool wet grass touched my hands and I lay face down in front of the steps. I could not allow myself to stand up. He was nearly past the curve in the driveway that would put him out of my sight. If I stood up, I would run to him.

My body seemed to have a mind of its own. I felt myself begin to crawl on my stomach across the grass. The rain hit the ground with such a violence that it splashed into my eyes, but still I moved toward him. When I reached the archway across the yard, I had a clear view of Marco as he reached the curve in the drive. He paused and for a minute I thought he would turn around. He must have been fighting the same feeling that I was. If he turned and saw me, I knew he would come back. I watched him for any sign that he was fighting as hard as I was to control himself, and for the longest time, he didn’t move. If he saw me there in the grass there would be no going back. Marco wouldn’t be leaving that night or maybe ever. He took a deep breath, and I watched his shoulders rise and fall before he moved those last few paces around the corner.

I rolled to my back and let the rain hit me in the face, blocked only slightly by the arch of roses. As I fought to regain control Marco’s words haunted me, “You will not find an ordinary man who can satisfy you.”

I’m not sure how long I lay there, trying to decide if I was disappointed or relieved that he hadn’t looked back, before I began to wonder what I was going to do. The desire I had felt only moments before had been powerful. Nothing I had ever experienced compared. This was not common lust. If it were, I was not without resources. I could take care of things on my own, but I needed something that batteries could not provide. Alfred needed to hurry before I did something stupid.

*****

After making my way back onto the porch, I stripped and wrung out my clothes before padding barefoot back into the house. The laundry room was located at the end of the hall, past Alfred’s room and the guest room. I slapped my wet clothes into the machine and found a towel to dry off with. As I traced my steps back through the house, mopping up my wet footprints, I felt like an idiot. At least Marco hadn’t seen me. No damage had been done except to my own pride. No one had ever made me even remotely want to crawl before, but I couldn’t stop myself from moving toward Marco. Even if someone had tied me up, I think I would have rolled to him.

Once I made my way upstairs and out of the shower for the second time, I was more than ready to sleep. When I replaced the lock of Mathias’ hair in the back of the journal, I realized that the pink stone hanging from the necklace was a rose quartz surrounded by a border of silver. If I had paid closer attention, I would have recognized the stone the first time. But, that was not important at the moment. At this point, I went to close the book, but the page that lay open had a new message:

Be careful who you love. We have the ability, through our most intimate of touches, to take on the characteristics of others. It could be some aspect of their personality, or just liking their favorite food. But you must choose wisely, for there are worse things than craving onions instead of candy.

Often times these effects do not last. It depends upon the power of the sorcerer or sorceress, and how close they were to the individual.

As I closed the book, I had the strong impression Mathias was trying to tell me that I could not causally take werewolves to my bed. After placing the journal on my bedside table, I turned out the light, slid between the sheets, and found sleep only a breath away.

*****

When I woke up the next morning, I looked at the clock to find it was only seven thirty. It chapped my ass how I could never sleep late when I had the opportunity. So, I crawled out of bed, slipped on a pair of green boxer shorts that clashed horribly with my purple t-shirt and went downstairs to make breakfast.

Mathias’ words from the night before played again through my head and I wondered exactly what he had meant by them. I was surprised that my dreams were not haunted by more perverse images, but if I’d had dreams, they were forgotten.

I had barely started the coffee when I heard a knock at the door.

“Good morning, Kat,” I yawned as I opened the door.

“Are you okay?” She took in my appearance with a glance and cringed at the neon green boxer shorts.

“It’s Saturday morning and I’m awake before nine o’clock. What do you think?”

She laughed. “I think you let a court jester pick out your clothes.”

“Up yours.” I started to walk away, and then turned back. “You want some breakfast?”

“Such manners,” she scolded. “I liked you better when Alfred was around.”

I glared at her and she quickly added, “Okay, I won’t go there.”

After rummaging around briefly, I decided I was in the mood for waffles and began gathering my ingredients.

“So, how did it go with the journal? What did you find out?”

It took me a minute to answer the question. I didn’t want to deliberately leave Kat out of the loop, but it seemed wrong to share with someone the information that Mathias had taken such great pains to make sure was for my eyes only.

She seemed to pick up on my hesitation. “It’s all right if you can’t tell me. I understand.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, some of it was just ... personal, about him and his life. But, I can tell you some things.”

“Okay.”

“Well, for one, the journal is enchanted. It says different things to different people.”

“Really? I wonder what it said to Marco?”

“That’s what I asked him.”

“Wait, you asked him? When did you talk to him?”

“He was here last night,” I said quickly, trying to get back to the subject, but Kat would not be deterred.

“Whoa. What are you not telling me?”

“I’m getting there, just hold on.” I turned back to the fridge to look for an egg.

“All right then, what were you saying?”

“The journal told Marco in no uncertain terms that he was supposed to give it to me. See, it was meant for me all along. So, Marco was only able to read it like a diary, telling Mathias’ day to day activities. It didn’t tell about how to control his power or anything like that.”

“I take it that’s what he told you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I can understand you not wanting to share that. I wouldn’t understand it anyway. I’ve never even met a wizard. So, your great, great, grandfather’s name was Mathias?”

“Yeah,” I answered, pouring batter into the waffle press. “Mathias Alexander, to be exact.”

“Are you going to tell the rest of your family?”

“I don’t think so. At least not until I straighten things out in my own mind. From the way he talked, I think it’s best if no one else knows.”

“Why, are you in some kind of danger?”

“If the wrong person were to find out, possibly.”

Kat told me about some new ideas for revamping her shop while I put a big golden brown waffle onto her plate.

“You know, I just come by here for the food.” She smiled.

“Yeah, I figured as much.”

“Well, that and the off chance I might get to see Alfred in a bath robe again.” She laughed.

“You’re sick,” I teased, passing her the syrup.

“Most likely.”

I told her how the date with Elijah had gone the night before. She listened with bated breath when I got to the part where Marco rang my doorbell.

“He just showed up on your front porch?”

“Mmhm, looking better than he had a right to, as usual.”

“I know the history between you two, and I swear if it were me, I’d do things to him that would make whatever went on in your dungeon look mild in comparison.”

“Don’t think it hasn’t occurred to me,” I said sarcastically.

I finished telling her about my conversation with Marco the night before, only I left out the fact that I’d crawled across the yard after him.

“I love Alfred,” she began, “I really do, but have you lost your damn mind?”

Her reaction made me laugh. “Wait till you hear what Mathias had to say about the matter.”

Once I’d told Kat about Mathias’ last warning, she got up to get some more coffee with an exclaimed, “Damn.”

“I know. What really sucks is he’s probably right.”

“How can you know for sure what he meant though? I mean, he could see the future, right? He might have been warning you about somebody that you haven’t even met yet.”

“That’s true. You realize of course, that I’ve tumbled this around in my head in every way possible? I can only assume that it will become clear when it was meant to. Or maybe it’s just a general warning. Either way, it certainly explains some weirdness that went on when I was dating Bradley.”

Kat cringed at the sound of his name. “Ugh, not him again. What did it explain, that he’s a jerk-off?”

“No, I didn’t need an explanation for that. But, when I was dating him, I started to like things that he liked, things I previously didn’t have an interest in. Nothing severe, I just started eating his favorite foods and reading books that he enjoyed. But it all wore off once I didn’t have any more contact with him.”

“Creepy,” she mumbled around her second waffle.

“You know what’s sad? I didn’t get anything from Peter.”

“Except a broken heart,” Kat pointed out.

“Yeah, except that.”

Before Kat left, she made plans to come over Friday night and spend some time with Elijah and me. She was excited to get back to her shop and put up the pictures she’d had framed since Ms. Wilson’s tea party.

The remainder of my week was spent in meditation and when I wasn’t meditating, I was training. My dreams, which were seemingly absent for a few nights, had returned with a vengeance. My mind had been once again filled with images of a man whose presence I knew by heart, though I’d never seen his face. I’d had a few reoccurring dreams in my life, and he was one of them. He was tall, dark, and I had no doubt that he was handsome. By dark, I don’t mean his skin tone, but rather something about him. Darkness hung about his image like a cloak. Pictures of him were fleeting, as they always had been.

Aside from the tall, dark stranger, my dreams were visited by someone else. The more I closed my eyes, the clearer the face in my sketchbook became of the man with the kind eyes and blond hair. It was the opposite with him. I knew his face by heart, every line, every nuance of expression, but I had never felt his presence. I saw him speaking, but I did not hear his voice. In my dreams, I saw the rest of him, but when I awoke, only his face was clear.

Truthfully, it was his eyes that stuck with me the most. They were no ordinary brown, but the soft color of a pale honeyed tea without cream. His hair that I’d known the color of instinctively looked soft and dusty in my mind. It wasn’t quite a medium shade of blond, but a silvery almost gray version of the color.

These dreams might seem strange to someone else, but to me they were a comfort. I’d had dreams about the dark stranger since I was sixteen, so having him show up was almost like a visit from an old friend. I’d told Kat about him before and she said he was just a fantasy based on my ideal. As far as the reoccurring part, we’d both speculated that my mind produced images of him when I needed comfort. It made sense. What’s more comforting than a vision of some tall, dark, and handsome man?

The only problem with that theory was if it were my fantasy, there’d be more sex. What’s the point of having a tall, dark stranger around if you keep him at arm’s length? Besides, as often as I’d dreamed of him, we weren’t exactly strangers anymore. I had no doubt that should we ever meet, it wouldn’t matter that I’d never seen his face. I would know him.

As for the man in my sketchbook, I hadn’t told anyone about him. Looking into his eyes felt more intimate than most of the sex I’d had. I still felt like he would mean something more to me one day. But at the time, he meant a good night’s sleep.

*****

Friday came and I’d never been so excited about playing a board game. It bothered me to admit it, but without Alfred around, I was lonely. It had never occurred to me before how isolated I was, not just by physical location, but emotionally. I spoke to Kat a few times during the week, and Elijah had called once to confirm our plans. But pretty much, if people didn’t call me, I didn’t call them. I didn’t feel like writing. I was out of paint, and the werewolf community was keeping very quiet at the moment.

My father called early Friday morning and discussed with me briefly how my job might change in the event that the hearing went in favor of the wolves. There was a possibility that a special task force might be formed on Earth to help police the werewolf community. This would be a branch off The Hunters, and I would most likely head up the unit in my area.

I was glad to see his face and glad to have a reason to talk to someone. Once my dad had briefed me on the latest news, Alfred appeared. I truly didn’t know how much I had wanted to see his face until he smiled.

For a moment, I considered telling him to come home and forget about The Hunters and my dad’s spy games. I needed him. But then I came to my senses, and instead said, “Hello.”

We chatted politely for a few minutes, after all, only so much could be said in front of my father. Finally, he said, “I’ve got something for you.”

“Really? What is it?”

“Give me about an hour and check the transporter.”

“All right.”

I saw my dad in the background become distracted with checking his other messages. Alfred’s hologram leaned in and whispered, “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” I lied.

“No, you’re not. You’re giving me that face again. What’s wrong?”

He kept looking over his shoulder.

“It’s nothing.”

My father cleared his throat and Alfred jumped.

“Come on, Lilith,” he whispered urgently, “don’t screw with me, I don’t have time.”

“I’m lonely.”

With that confession I let some of what I felt show in my eyes and Alfred whispered, “Mi manchi molto.” (I miss you very much.)

“What’s that?”

Alfred jumped again at the sound of my father’s voice, though less forcefully. He clearly did not know what to say, so I took over.

“Alfred’s been teaching me Italian,” I answered.

“Oh, that’s nice. You learning how to cuss people in a new language doesn’t surprise me.”

I couldn’t help laughing. That really was the first thing I’d learned.

“I hate to cut this short, but we’ve got work to do.” My dad smiled as he continued, “Relax, Lilith. In all the time we’ve known each other, I’ve never learned Italian.”

And with a sarcastic smile, my dad’s communication ended.

It was unclear exactly what he’d meant by that last comment, but my father was no fool. If he suspected something was going on between Alfred and me and he didn’t like it, we’d have known about it by then. I felt better after hearing from them and went to make breakfast while I awaited Alfred’s “surprise.”

After making some coffee, I decided to take a cup in the sitting room where I could watch the gathering storm through the window. I love a good storm and hurricane season was rapidly approaching. I stretched out across the couch facing the fireplace. Here I had a good view through the bay windows on either side of the large hearth. As I watched the steam rising from my coffee where it sat on the table, I felt myself drifting toward sleep again.

Sighing, I thought to myself that I might as well sleep. It was the weekend. I reached for an oblong shaped pillow and hugged it tight underneath my chin. My mind wandered in and out of consciousness as I noticed how well my golden silk pajamas matched the sofa with its startling crimson upholstery. The pillow I hugged so tightly was an off white, almost cream. That reminded me I’d forgotten to put cream in my coffee. My thoughts continued to drift aimlessly until I heard the first drops of rain begin to fall. The wind roared, the thunder rumbled, and I got a really good nap.

Lightning cracked like a whip in the sky. This was my wakeup call several hours and a cold cup of coffee later. I stretched out catlike down the length of the sofa, pointing my toes at the height of my stretch.

I got to my feet, stumbled over to the window and took a good look around. Judging by the way the yard looked, I’d slept through a flashflood. For a second I wondered if Elijah and Kat would cancel their plans with me because of the weather. However, before I had time to pursue this thought any further, I remembered that Alfred was sending me something.

I went back upstairs to get my bedroom shoes before going down to the lab. The cold stone steps felt like ice against bare feet. I’d been stupid enough to walk on them barefoot before and I had no intention of doing so again.

On my way to get the key from its hook in the kitchen, I put my coffee cup in the sink. Maybe when I came back up, I’d try again with breakfast. The same key that opened the dungeon also unlocked Alfred’s laboratory. Two copies of the key had come with the house and Alfred kept the other one. It probably wasn’t the brightest idea to keep my key in the kitchen, but it wasn’t as if a werewolf could pick up a solid silver key. Not without waking everyone in the house.

Alfred’s lab had the same arches and pillars as the dungeon, except it was lit by large lamps which hung from the ceiling. Sometime before I purchased the house, someone had started running wires to put electricity in the lab. Alfred and I finished the job. Entering this part of the house always felt like stepping into a bizarre science fiction novel. There were gadgets in nearly every corner that made no sense to me whatsoever, but they were interesting to look at. Three long stainless steel tables sat in the middle of the room. Along the tops of these tables were various pieces of machinery, among them microscopes, slides, and a variety of unsavory looking specimens in jars.

Alfred’s desk sat at the back of the room, looking like it belonged in a mad scientist’s lair. It was stainless steel like the table tops, with another strange array of contraptions which nearly covered its surface. His chair was silver with large clawed feet that gripped the stone beneath, and was upholstered in black leather. Behind the desk, there was a door which led to his private library.

There was an open shower in the far upper left corner of the room in case anyone was splashed with a dangerous chemical. In the corner opposite the shower was the transporter. Sitting in the middle of the circle of small white tiles was a black box. The box was light and I almost shook it do see what was inside, but thought better of it. Knowing Alfred, there was no telling what he had sent. It might very well be alive.

So, I carried the box over to his desk and cleared a spot among the scattered apparatus to set it down. I noticed with a smile that he still had the letter opener I’d gotten him a few years ago. It was a large silver dragon wrapped around a mountain. The actual letter opener was a sword whose hilt stuck up from the mountainside.

When I turned my attention back to the black box, I noticed a card on top and decided to read it first.

Lilith,

I saw these and thought of you. The blades are solid silver, and they’re SHARP. I really hope you read this letter before trying them on. The sheaths are leather, and should fit well to your forearms. There is a molded rubber grip that should fit across the palm of your hand. In the middle of this grip is a small indention. When pressed, this will cause the blade along the top of the sheath to extend. BE SURE TO HAVE YOUR WRISTS FLEXED DOWN WHEN YOU PRESS THIS BUTTON. I really don’t want to test your regenerative qualities to see if you can re-grow a hand. I hope you enjoy your new toy. Be careful, Lil.

Yours truly,

Alfred
p.s. Your other blades are in the top left drawer on my desk. I hope you haven’t needed them before now. I meant to tell you earlier, but there wasn’t time. Sorry about that.

To hear his warning, you’d think I was a either a total moron, or he worried about me. Since I knew my IQ to be well over one hundred and fifty, I assumed he was worried. When I slid the cover off of the box, I smiled my approval at Alfred’s gift. The leather sheaths were black, sleek, and soft. They would fit easily underneath clothing if I needed to conceal them. I slipped my right hand through the straps and was impressed to find that the sheath was the exact length of my forearm from wrist to elbow. The rubber grip he had mentioned fit perfectly in the palm of my hand, and I could feel the indention with the tip of my middle finger. Careful to flex my wrist downward, I pressed the button and jumped as the thin blade extended from the sheath with an intimidating slicing noise.

“Wow,” I breathed, as I turned the blade to the light.

I could see myself reflected in its perfect shiny surface. A second press to the palm caused the blade to retract. I slipped the sheath back off, placed it beside its twin in the box and scribbled a hasty note to Alfred thanking him for his thoughtfulness. Of course, I was careful not to say more than that in case my father picked up the note first.

After sending the letter to my father’s office, I quickly climbed the stairs and dashed to my bedroom. I was eager to see how the blades would work with one of my cat-suits, so I went to the wardrobe in search of them. I have a large walk-in closet that connects to the upstairs bathroom. This was where all of my normal clothes were stored. However, I special ordered my leather suits from a seamstress on Terra, and I stored them in a large antique wardrobe that sits in my bedroom. At the bottom of the wardrobe are two drawers where I normally stored all of my blades.

Alfred was forever trying to get me to carry more guns, but I preferred the up close personalness of a blade. The way I saw it, if someone was attacking me, it was damn sure personal. I wanted to see the faces of my enemies when they realized that they’d made a mistake. I also ordered the bodysuits in vinyl and spandex, though it was leather that I wore to hunt. Leather offered more protection, but I liked the way I looked in the vinyl.

After fishing around in the wardrobe for a few minutes, I retrieved a black spandex suit. I normally wore spandex for training purposes only, since it was a cooler fabric, but I wouldn’t dare wear it out in public. Anyone wearing spandex and hunting werewolves is just asking for superhero jokes to be made. Some of the suits had a slightly different style, and I liked the zipper on that one. The zipper ran up my left side over my breast, and up the side of my throat, finishing in a mock collar.

I rolled back the sleeves and placed the sheaths over my forearms. After adjusting the blades for a more comfortable fit, I decided against wearing boots, opting instead to practice barefoot.

As I walked into the training room, I passed the full-length mirror near the door, paused and looked again. My first thought was that maybe I should reconsider wearing spandex in public. Not to sound like a jerk or anything, but I looked okay in the spandex. As long as my scars were covered, I didn’t lack self-confidence. I extended the blades simultaneously and found I also looked deadly. The blades let you know that this was no petting zoo, and you’d better keep your distance.

Having the blades attached to my arms left me free to do a wider range of movements. I found that I could slice, stab, and chop almost simultaneously. I had gotten used to the feel of the large machete I normally carried. These would take some getting used to, but I liked them. Being able to retract the blades at a moment’s notice also allowed me to move more quickly, without having to worry about replacing them to a holster.

What I lacked in finesse at the time, I made up for in ferocity. It would take some practice to develop my skill with the new blades, but I was no stranger to an edged weapon.

Several hours passed. The rain was still coming down outside, and I’d sweated until I looked as if I’d been caught in it. I deliberately didn’t keep a clock in the training room. If I had a clock I’d only talk myself out of working harder, thinking that I had somewhere else to be. However, without Alfred to come and get me at a particular time, I could easily waste hours in that room.

What I used as a training room had once been a large formal dining room. But, it was perfect for my purposes. It had a cathedral ceiling, and like the room beside it, three floor to ceiling windows that faced the rainy afternoon outside. The windows, like the one in my bedroom, arched gracefully near the top, except in this room, they were draped in a sheer white fabric.

The windows were separated only by a narrow strip of wall in this room, but in the next, there was a door between the second and third window. This door led onto a small balcony which nearly touched the ground, but gave a beautiful view of the woods.

The room next door was another reason I’d wanted the house. It was a ball room, with a large grand piano that sat off in one corner. Sadly, it was never used. It remained bare of furniture and I kept the beautifully polished wood floor dusted, but no one ever danced in it, even me. I’d thought about dancing in that room, but Alfred didn’t dance and it seemed a tragedy to dance alone in such a room. So, I kept it clean and let it be.

My exhaustion helped me to realize how much time had passed. I retracted the blades one final time, and made my way back through the house to the kitchen. According to the clock, it was three thirty, and I still hadn’t eaten. After opening the box, I’d forgotten all about breakfast, but my stomach reminded me that it hadn’t.

Nausea nearly overpowered me and I cursed myself for not remembering the last time this happened to me. I sat at the table for a few minutes, still breathing hard from my workout and tried to focus on something besides the flips my stomach was doing.

That’s one thing werewolves and I have in common, we both have to eat. Their extremely fast metabolism means they have to consume food at least three times a day. It’s a very rare thing to see an overweight werewolf. Only compulsive eaters could manage that feat.

Werewolves are also practically immune to aging due to the constant regeneration of their tissues, and are completely immune to physical disease. Lycanthropy actually lengthens the life spans of those infected. Marco, for example, who was already of Terran descent and then infected with lycanthropy could expect to live a very long time.

That was something else that had been bothering me lately. My life was already most likely extended as his had been, even though I had not contracted the disease. On top of that, to find out I had a wizard in my family meant I could possibly live to be a thousand years old ... or more.

I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of living that long. In theory it sounded good, but I didn’t want to end up like Mathias, watching everything I love fade before my eyes. People admired wizards, but their lives were often times a sad existence.

My line of thinking had only succeeded in making me feel worse. I rushed to the half bath underneath the stairs to throw up. After I spent several minutes “worshiping the porcelain god” I decided to make my way back to the kitchen.

Normally, throwing up makes you feel better, but I think it had only made me worse. I rummaged around in the fridge until I found something carbonated then took a slice of bread down from the cupboard and forced myself to eat it. I needed something heavy enough to soak up the acidity of my empty stomach and bread normally did the trick. The soft drink was mostly just to help get the nasty taste out of my mouth.

About twenty minutes and three slices of bread later, I felt better. One glance at the clock told me Elijah and Kat should be there within the hour, and I was still sweaty and unwashed.

I went upstairs as quickly as possible, but careful not to move too fast just in case I got sick again. After peeling off the sweaty spandex and placing the new blades in the bottom drawer of my wardrobe, I padded gratefully to the shower.

Chapter Fourteen

After a quick shower I walked, still damp and naked through the bathroom to the closet and quickly selected a pair of well-fitted jeans and a soft lilac t-shirt. The jeans had been too tight only a month ago, and I noted with some satisfaction that they were now a perfect fit.

If I had wanted to I could have worn them before, but they pinched just a little at the top of my hips. I preferred to wear low rise jeans, and have been known to occasionally buy men’s jeans to avoid the extra fabric some designers seem to think women need around the thighs. That only succeeded in making my butt look baggy. If I ever did gain a few pounds, I tended to carry them in my stomach and upper hips, not in my butt or thighs.

My backside wasn’t flat by any means. I was just blessed with good genetics. My father had never worked out a day in his life and had the muscle tone of a much younger man who spent hours in the gym. On the other hand, since women naturally have more body fat, I did need to work out, at least in my opinion. However, I could go longer between periods of regular exercise without losing muscle tone.

Still, I stood in front of the mirror, twisting and turning this way and that to make sure I didn’t have any unsightly bulges anywhere I shouldn’t. Kat and Richard had both told me I was way too self-conscious. They were probably right, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. I didn’t want people to see me out in public and think I didn’t own a mirror. I suppose it’s because there is so much about me that people can’t see. Things I know they’d never approve of, that I go to such lengths to look presentable. I want to be accepted, if not for what I am, then for what people think I am.

Once I walked back into the bedroom the clock said I had exactly fifteen minutes to find a bra that looked good underneath the tight shirt and dry my hair. Deciding that damp hair was not a tragedy, and showing off my nipples to Kat and Elijah would be, I went for the bra first.

My breasts are too large to go braless. But, even if I were a B cup instead of a D, I think I’d still want to wear a bra. It was bad enough I didn’t wear underwear most of the time, but there was no need to look slutty.

So, I rummaged quickly through the chest of drawers that held my lingerie and pajamas and soon came across a pale lilac bra made of silk and lace. I had a penchant for lingerie, but it had to fit well. No sense buying something that wasn’t functional and if it happened to match, all the better.

I had just pulled my shirt up around my neck in order to slip on the bra when I heard a knock at the door downstairs. A quick glance out the window told me it was Kat, and she was early.

Pulling my shirt down as I went, I dashed down the stairs and let her in.

“You’re early,” I panted.

“And you’re not ready. Big surprise.” She smiled.

“Shut up, Kat.”

“Well, you’ve got about ten minutes before Mr. Blue Eyes shows up with the game.” She yelled at my retreating backside, “I’d hurry if I were you!”

In the middle of a frantic attempt to dry my hair, Kat made her way into my bedroom. She walked over and plopped down among my plethora of pillows and blurted, “Guess what?”

“What?” I turned slightly so I could see her face.

“I’ve met someone.” She was grinning from ear to ear.

“Really?” That got my attention. “Do tell.”

“He’s gorgeous,” she purred.

“What’s he like, and when did this happen?”

“He came in the shop a few days ago. As far as his personality, I have no idea, our first date is tomorrow. But, I can tell you about his ass,” she said suggestively.

“Got a good look at that did you? What’s the rest of him look like?” I asked, turning my head every which way to get the roots of my hair dry.

“His name is Charles Xander. He’s got short auburn hair, gorgeous green eyes, and an ass that could stop traffic.”

I whistled. “That’s a tall order for one man. Auburn hair, huh?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Admit it, you have lesbian fantasies about me,” I teased.

Kat rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, woman of my dreams. I’ve got a weakness for redheads.” She laughed.

“So, what was he looking for?”

“He came in just after I put up the pictures of the tea party, said he was looking for some nice picture frames. Why?”

“Oh, I was just wondering. Since you say that only gay men know how to decorate properly, I wanted to know if he asked for decorating advice, or just picked it all out himself.”

“He asked for advice,” she said smugly. “That’s how we struck up a conversation. Besides, I can tell if a man is gay or not.”

“You’re so full of crap.” I laughed as I put on my makeup.

“Maybe, but I’ve got a hot date tomorrow night.” She stuck out her tongue.

“Oh, that’s nice. Real mature.”

“It’s not my fault you move too slow,” she taunted.

“I don’t move slow.” I ran some styling putty through my hair. “I just think you should be sure he understands the baking directions before you give the cookie away.”

“Bitch.” She tossed a pillow at me.

“Slut.” I threw it back.

Kat paused in mid throw. We had both heard a knock at the door.

As I started downstairs she said, “Why don’t you just pick one?”

“It’s not that easy, Kat.”

“Sure it is. They’re all hot. You put their names in a hat and just pick one.”

I glared at her over my shoulder.

“Or,” she continued, “you could just have them line up and drop their drawers.”

I laughed so hard I nearly fell down the last few steps. When I answered the door, my eyes were glazed with tears and at first Elijah mistook my expression.

“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately.

“Nothing.” I wiped my eyes.

“We were just joking around,” Kat answered.

“Oh, I just thought you were that glad to see me.” He laughed.

We sat up the game around the coffee table in the sitting room and decided to order pizza. Of course, we couldn’t find anyone who delivered to the middle of nowhere, so Kat offered to go and pick it up.

“I’ll be right back. You two behave.” She winked at me on her way out the door.

Elijah laughed. “What was that all about?”

“She thinks I need to get laid,” I said simply.

“Well, I’d be glad to help you out with that.”

As I looked into his deep blue eyes, I almost agreed. Elijah had the kind of eyes that you could lose yourself in and if I looked long enough, I’d be agreeable to most anything. I wasn’t sure how to answer him. Fortunately, he spoke first.

“Before I forget to tell you, I’m going to be out of town for a few weeks, starting next weekend.”

“Okay.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. He wasn’t my boyfriend so technically he didn’t owe me an explanation if he wanted to leave town. But, it was sweet of him to mention it.

“My mom’s birthday is coming up, and I thought I’d visit a few other relatives while I’m there.”

“That sounds nice.”

I smiled, but I was wondering what I would do on the weekends with Elijah out of town. Honestly, it wasn’t fair of me to use him that way, but I liked having him around. Plus, he understood the way things were with Alfred and seemed to be all right with the idea of just hanging out. I shuddered to think what Marco might try if he knew I was alone. The problem was, it wasn’t a bad kind of shudder.

While Kat was gone, we fished some plates down from the cabinets. Alfred refused to use paper plates, ever. So, that meant I’d be washing dishes again. I hated washing dishes, but I didn’t want to give up any of the cabinet space to put in a dishwasher.

Kat got back quicker than I’d expected, but I wasn’t complaining. It was difficult to be alone with Elijah and not flirt more than I should. Men should not be allowed to have such a charming smile. His smile made me want to get personal, to tell him all about myself. Confessing all of my sins up front just wasn’t my style. But, I wanted to talk to him, to share things with him, every time he smiled.

The evening passed quickly, and before long it was eleven o’clock. Kat left first, saying that she needed her beauty rest for her date with Charles. When Elijah left a few minutes later, I walked him to the door.

What I wanted to do was hug him and say how much I was going to miss him. Even though that was true, I thought it would be cruel under the circumstances. Instead I said, “I hope you have a good trip,” which sounded cold, even to my own ears.

“I’ll miss you,” he said.

The smile slipped from his face, but his eyes held a kindness that melted my heart. I put my arms around him as I sighed. “I’ll miss you, too.”

When he didn’t try to kiss me goodnight, I was filled with a mixture of relief and disappointment. I didn’t want Elijah the way I wanted Marco. What I felt was a different sort of attraction, but it was there. He looked back from where he stood at the bottom step and smiled at me. In that moment, I knew I wanted to please him. That smile was addictive and might well have been the undoing of many an innocent young girl.

I watched as his tail lights retreated down my driveway before going back inside.

*****

The next few weeks passed quickly and I tried desperately not to be lonely. But, with Elijah and Alfred out of town, and Kat completely infatuated with Charles Xander, I was left with few options. Occupying myself had never been a problem and I wasn’t sure why it was then. I could always find something to do. Maybe I was avoiding my own thoughts. But I had been left with little to do except think. One can only train so much, and my roses didn’t need any more pruning. Besides that, I couldn’t think of anything that I wanted to paint at the moment and I still didn’t want to write for the same reason I hadn’t picked up my sketchbook in a while. I was afraid of what I might put on the paper.

*****

Another week, and lo and behold, hurricane season was upon us in full swing. Elijah was back in town, but he had to work for the next two weekends in order to make up for the time he’d taken off. Kat called and we talked often, but she hadn’t stopped by since her “hot date” with Charles. I hadn’t gotten all of the details yet, but I intended to pry them out of her.

By this time, I was tired of staying at home. I’d already rented every movie that even remotely interested me, including a few chick flicks which was completely out of character. Me watching a romantic comedy was like getting most people to go to the dentist. Once a year was quite enough.

Against my better judgment, and probably Mathias’ if I’d bothered to see what he thought, I decided to go to club Red. It wasn’t the brightest idea in the world to be on the road with a hurricane on the way, but I rationalized that I was at least driving away from the storm.

Hurricane Alistair had just made its way into the Gulf of Mexico and could take a turn for the coast of Texas, or the panhandle of Florida. Maybe it was the weather, or maybe it was just the thought of seeing Marco’s reaction, but I decided to wear something particularly provocative. As Kat would say, I felt like letting my freak flag fly. I decided on a long, low fitting black skirt with nearly hip high slits. There were contoured silver PVC sections along the top which reflected the light. The matching top was just as wild. It was made of a stretchy material with detachable sleeves. These sleeves were held in place by reflective suspenders with metal garters. One wide silver PVC stripe across the top of each shoulder matched the skirt nicely.

There was a strip of flesh visible from the top of my shoulder to just above my elbow. The only material on that part of my arms was the suspenders. It looked as if I had attached a pair of long, old fashioned black gloves to my sleeves. To complete this ensemble, I added a pair of platform boots with five large buckles up the side. I laughed as I thought what Kat’s reaction might have been. This went beyond vendetta. The last addition to my outfit was a pair of boy short style black lace underwear. If I did have to kick someone’s ass that night, I saw no sense in flashing whoever might be around.

I left through the sunroom out back, past the kitchen. Most people call those glass covered areas a Florida room. But, seeing as how the house was in Florida, technically they were all Florida rooms. Point being, the term just sounded stupid to me, so I called it a sunroom.

I’d finished taping up all the windows and closing the shutters earlier in the day. There was really nothing left for me to do except sit around, and that did not appeal to me. As I made my way to the detached garage behind the house I noticed the sky. It looked dark and sinister with the promise of violence. Although it was evening, you could still see the rolling clouds through flashes of lightning.

This was definitely one of the dumbest things I’d done in a long time. I couldn’t really explain what had made me want to go to the club that night, even to myself. I was a disgrace to The Hunters, deliberately cavorting with werewolves. I could never let it be known that I’d had so many opportunities to kill Marco and I’d never even scratched him. Of course killing him at that point would have meant facing the wrath of the Wizard Council, which was something I didn’t want to do. Still, I had no business in my line of work going to hang out at his club. As I got into the car I thought of how Alfred would react if he knew and felt guilty, but not enough to stay at home.

It was already evening and I didn’t bring an overnight bag. I was planning to drive back in the wee hours of the morning. The drive there wasn’t so bad. Eventually, I turned off the radio and took a CD down from my visor. Weather reports only reminded me how stupid I was for being on the road. Of course, I wasn’t the only one. Hurricane Alistair was a category four storm and many low lying areas and beach fronts were being evacuated. And there I was like a crack addict off to get my fix.

Since our last conversation, I had given some thought to what Marco said. I had been a little more cautious just in case someone tried to attack me, but there was no sign yet of jealous female werewolves.

As far as the rest of our conversation, I still couldn’t go there. To say no outright would cut off our strange relationship. But to say yes would mean more consequences than I wanted to face. My father would most likely disown me. If it came down to that, Marco would have to understand. I wouldn’t give up my father for any man.

When I pulled into the parking lot a few hours later I noticed there were fewer cars than usual, and no waiting line out front. Don’t get me wrong, there were still people out, just significantly less than usual.

As I approached the door I noticed Marco coming toward me. He was wearing the same black leather pants he’d worn the first time I’d seen him at the club. The matching shirt stretched revealingly over every line and curve of his impressive physique.

“I didn’t expect to see you out tonight, Red.”

“Admit it, you’re glad to see me,” I teased.

“Always.” He flashed me that wolfish grin and my heart wasn’t the only thing that fluttered.

Marco looked me up and down and I could have sworn I heard him growl. The sound was soft, barely audible, but it was there. The urge to tackle him in the parking lot nearly overpowered me. The magnitude of my stupidity really began to sink in. What did I think would happen when I saw him? The last time I’d been around Marco I’d crawled on my stomach through the rain just to watch him walk away.

His approving smile at my appearance was all I’d hoped for.

“I hate to disappoint you, Red, but we closed early tonight.” Lightning cracked over our heads as he finished. “Because of the weather.”

“Then who are all these people?” I gestured at the cars in the parking lot.

“Part of the pack is having a hurricane party.”

I looked at him skeptically. “If you wanted me to leave, all you had to do was say so.”

“You’re welcome to join us.” He reached for me, but I stepped back.

“No thanks. I don’t belong here. I shouldn’t have come.”

As I turned to leave he stepped closer to me, stopping just short of physical contact.

“But still you’re here.”

“Not for long.” I kept walking.

“Wait,” he called.

When Marco caught up with me, I was already at my car.

“Look, I’m sorry if I was rude ... I don’t deal well with rejection.”

For some reason I was angry with him. I’m not sure what I expected, showing up like that with a hurricane on the way, but it wasn’t this. I hadn’t come to argue.

“I didn’t come here to discuss your personal problems, Marco.”

“Then why did you come?”

I wasn’t sure what to say, so I told the truth. “I don’t know.”

“Damn it, Red. Can’t you just admit you wanted to see me?”

Without a word, I reached for the car door and he stopped me, placing his hand on my wrist.

“I can’t let you leave in this weather.”

I just looked at him blankly.

“Haven’t you heard? Alistair’s just hit the coast of Florida. It will be here by morning.”

No, I hadn’t heard. Maybe I shouldn’t have turned off the radio.

“So, what am I supposed to do, get a hotel room?”

“Why don’t you stay with me?” It didn’t sound like a question when he said it.

“You expect me to spend the night in a club full of drunken werewolves?”

“And most of tomorrow.” He smiled. “At least until the storm passes over.”

“Shit,” I said with feeling.

“Come on, Red. I’m the only one who bites, and I’ll be on my best behavior.”

I couldn’t help laughing at the wicked grin on his face at just the mention of biting me.

“You’re a bastard.”

Marco turned me to face him by the wrist that he still held.

“Come on,” he repeated. “The weather’s getting worse.”

He was right, but I dug my heels into the gravel, forcing him to drag me a few steps.

“Don’t be like this.” He stopped and turned back to me.

“But you said that some of your pack hated me.” I gestured at my tight clothes. “There’s obviously no concealed weapons here. I’m not prepared to take on,” I glanced around again, counting cars, “fifty or so angry werewolves.”

“Not all of the pack is here,” he said reasonably. “Besides, the ones who don’t like you don’t often come to the club.”

He tried to walk to the door again and I snatched my wrist loose.

“But, I don’t belong at a small, intimate gathering with your pack.”

Marco took a step closer to me and placed his hands on my shoulders. He was warm and his touch burned into me, but the full moon was still over a week away.

“You belong wherever I am,” he spoke softly and his rough sexy voice raised the fine hairs on my arms.

After a few moments he seemed to take my silence as an agreement to stay.

“Besides, Luther’s here.” He smiled.

I had to admit it would be nice to have a chance to catch up with Luther. I wondered what he’d been doing for the last ten years. Besides being a werewolf, I wanted to know what else had changed about the boy I used to know.

Marco opened the door for me and I stepped inside. The music thumped as usual to a variety of songs with sexual overtones. In place of the normal flashes of strobe lights, the building was lit by large hurricane lanterns. I licked my lips as I watched the horde of werewolves gyrating on the dance floor. Though I’d never known any lycans on a personal level before, I’d begun to notice that they were a touchy feely group. They didn’t grope people. They just seemed to like to brush against them.

Before I could join them, Luther danced over holding two large drinks. He was wearing solid white. The tight vinyl pants were flattering to his long legs. The matching shirt looked like a white version of the one that Marco wore. It hugged his every curve. Yes, Luther was hot, but when he smiled at me I still saw my childhood friend behind those icy blue eyes. His long white blond hair was braided neatly down his back, strongly resembling a whip.

“Would the lady care for a drink?” he asked.

I took the glass he offered with a smile.

“That’s a hurricane,” he explained needlessly. “But, be careful, it’s really just a lot of rum and a little food coloring.” He winked.

I pushed the pineapple and orange slices from the rim down into the glass and stirred them around before eating the pineapple. After I took a sip he asked, “Would you like to dance?”

Before I could accept, he turned to Marco. “With your permission,” he added.

Marco nodded with a smile, but I was confused. It must have shown because Marco then explained, “Since I’ve asked you to be my mate, a lesser wolf must ask permission to dance with you before I do.”

I didn’t like being treated like a piece of meat. But, to have pointed that out would have undermined Marco’s authority. Since I was in a room filled with his loyal supporters, that wouldn’t be a good thing. Luther didn’t seem to take offense at being called a lesser wolf, and since it looked as if I would have to stay the night I just wanted to keep the peace. I offered Luther my hand with a smile and he led me onto the floor.

Club Red’s first floor is a huge open room with tables scattered around the walls. The dance floor is slightly lower than the rest. Two steps down and you were there. The wolves moved in close around us, but honestly didn’t seem to care about me being there. The dance floor was just that full.

As we moved, nearly elbow to elbow with the rest of the wolf pack, there were moments when I started to think of Luther as more than just a friend. Every time I found myself watching the way his hips flexed when he moved, he would speak to me and ruin the illusion. He was gorgeous, but he was still just Luther.

Luther and I had worked up a good sweat by the time we made our way back to where we’d left our drinks.

“So, are you staying the night?” he asked.

“It looks that way.” I gulped down nearly half of my drink and was prepared for him to comment further on the prospect of me staying with Marco. However, he made no assumptions.

“Good, maybe we can catch up some.”

Luther sat down at a table near the door and asked, “Where’s your friend?”

“She didn’t come.” I didn’t feel like explaining that I had no idea where Kat was and felt slightly miffed about being abandoned for that Charles fellow.

During the next hour or so, I found out that Luther was divorced. Actually, his ex-wife was the one who’d attacked and turned him. He’d accidentally killed her in the struggle.

“That was when I met Marco. He took me under his wing, showed me the ropes.”

“So, you think he’s a nice guy?” I asked.

Luther looked very serious as he replied, “Lilith, that man kept me from killing myself.” Luther’s expression said clearly that he would not tolerate me bad mouthing Marco.

“When I first met Marco, he was a Hunter,” I explained. “The next thing I know, he’s the enemy. And now ... I don’t know what he is.”

His expression softened. “I understand.”

Just then, the DJ had finally had too much to drink and began to play oldies. People began backing off the dance floor, some with a mumbled, “What the hell?” But, when one of our favorite songs started to play, Luther and I both laughed and ran to the floor. We proceeded to pull off a combination of some really terrible disco moves and head banging. Okay, so maybe neither one of us had grown up completely. Who cared? It was fun.

As I saw Marco coming back downstairs the power went out. A collective howl rose from the crowd and someone yelled, “Party!” It was the drunk DJ who then stumbled and fell from behind the platform he was on. I didn’t even want to know how much alcohol it took to get a werewolf that drunk and stupid.

“That’s gonna leave a mark,” Marco said from behind me and I jumped.

The lights flickered back on and he smiled. “Why don’t we go upstairs?”

Luther took that as his cue and quickly excused himself to help the drunken werewolf with a murmured, “Vodka is a many splendored thing.”

“Aren’t you supposed to go to the lowest level of a building during a storm like this?”

“This building is very well reinforced and has been through several hurricanes,” he said. “Besides, I want to get a bath before the power goes out completely.”

“Where are you going to take a bath, standing on the fire escape in the rain?” I asked sarcastically.

“That sounds like fun,” he drawled. “But why don’t we go to my apartment?” again, he didn’t exactly ask a question.

“You have an apartment upstairs?”

“Right this way.”

Marco led me up the stairs, placing his hand gently in the curve of my back. It was a subtle, but possessive gesture. The touch was intimate without being sexual, and that was what I liked about it.

I followed him through the same red door we’d gone through before and into the second red door that led to his office. He walked over to the bookshelves behind his desk and turned to the one along the left wall.

“You know, no one else knows how to get into my apartment.”

“Then why are you showing me?”

He gave me that grin again that made me glad I wasn’t a sheep.

“Just in case you ever want to come back.”

I watched as he lifted a copy of Call of the Wild from the shelf and pressed an indention in the wood behind it. The bookcase slid to one side to reveal a staircase.

He motioned for me to go first, and I did so warily. When we reached the first step, I turned back. “But if no one knows how to get here—” I broke off.

“Exactly.” He pressed another indention near the staircase. The wall began to close as he let loose an evil laugh that would have made any super villain proud. Marco laughed again at the look on my face. “Relax, I’m not going to hurt you.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Besides, if I had any intention of abusing you, I wouldn’t have taken you up here in front of everybody.”

“But you’re their alpha. Won’t they go along with whatever you say?”

He sighed wearily. “I seriously doubt that Luther would stand by and let me harm you.”

I held my ground and didn’t move another step.

Marco sighed again as he said, “Would you prefer to stay downstairs?”

I thought it over for a minute before answering, “No.”

“Then follow me.”

The top of the staircase opened directly into Marco’s living room. It was a large loft style apartment covering nearly the entire space with one expansive room. There was a half wall divider that separated the kitchen and a massive dungeon style door at the far end.

The walls had been torn away to display the faded reddish brown brick beneath. The floor was made of old wooden planks that looked well taken care of. I had only seen windows like his in pictures before. They were made of wrought iron and consisted of at least fifty small square panes each. The glass was double paned, but had been taped over because of the storm, just in case. The color scheme matched that of his office. The windows were adorned with lush red, expensive looking drapes, each with a large golden cord to pull them shut. Tall iron candle holders were scattered about including a few candelabras, all holding soft cream colored candles. A fireplace stood near the entrance along the same wall as the hearth in his office. This one was not marble, but was made of the same brick as the walls. In front of the fireplace was an empty patch of floor that needed a rug.

The room was divided by the placement of the furniture into three areas. The space near the fireplace had a long, dark leather sofa draped with a cream blanket that looked to be made of fur. Matching cream colored pillows were thrown at odd angles across the leather. In place of a matching chair, there was a massive scattering of faded red and gold pillows. This tied in with the piece along the mantle. There, a faded red peapod shaped basket with black iron accents held a collection of cream, brown, and gold décor balls. Beside this lay several boughs of crooked willow dyed a deep crimson, and layered with pussy willow.

In the far left corner stood a lamp that looked like an odd flower curving over a tan suede chair and ottoman. Like the one downstairs, this chair had a crimson blanket thrown over one arm and draping over part of the floor. With its back turned to the fireplace and the small reading area, sat a blood red love seat with faded gold, almost bronze colored pillows. This area in particular drew my attention, for on the wall in a large space between the windows hung an enormous painting of me.

I stood so that only my back and the left side of my face were visible. To my chest I clutched a long crimson piece of material which seemed to flow over the canvas. It draped around me so that my entire back could be seen, stopping just short of indecent exposure. My head was tilted slightly downward as if I were in the process of turning back to someone who stood behind me. The painting was so life-like that I expected to see myself finish that turn at any moment. A tall ornately carved candle holder stood on either side and I was tempted to light them, just to see how the painting looked with the soft illumination.

“Do you like it?”

Marco’s voice brought me from my reverie and I noticed that I was standing only a few feet from the painting. Glancing back, I thought it was a miracle I hadn’t tripped over the coffee table. I turned back to the painting and reached out with trembling fingers to touch the massive gold frame that held it.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathed.

Part of my hair was swept down and part upward, giving my image a slightly disheveled look. But the beauty in the painting was timeless. She had the same ethereal glow that I’d glimpsed through Alfred’s eyes, and a presence that made you want to fall to your knees.

“This can’t be me,” I whispered.

“Of course it is,” Marco answered gently from behind me.

“But, I don’t look like this,” I said in awe.

“Don’t you own a mirror?”

“Yes ... but this is not what I see.”

“You should look more closely,” Marco whispered his rough voice close to my ear.

“I never knew you were an artist.”

“I’m not.”

“But ... how?”

“Mathias. He told me where to find the canvas and what paints to buy. He said that if I would use this canvas, it would show me the deepest most intimate desires of my heart.”

I turned to face Marco and found him only a breath away. He looked blurry and I realized that I’d been crying. I was moved beyond words.

“What did you expect?” He smiled gently. “A plan for world domination?”

I smiled weakly and tried to control my urge to embrace him. I didn’t love Marco, but I was really beginning to like him.

Chapter Fifteen

Lightning split the sky and I was suddenly aware of the viciously howling wind.

“We should hurry on that shower,” he pointed out.

“We?”

Marco laughed. “I didn’t mean together. Although, I’m not opposed to the idea, if you prefer.”

I glared at him.

“Or, maybe not,” he added.

I followed Marco to the dungeon looking door at the far end of the loft. He swung the door open to his bedroom. My attention was immediately drawn to the gigantic four poster bed in the middle of the room. It had to be larger than a king.

The floor around the bed was slightly raised, so that it took two steps up to reach the mattress. The comforter was a magnificent scarlet embroidered with thousands of delicate gold vines. The bed was filled with pillows of all shapes and sizes in a mixture of red and gold. The massive canopy that hung over the bed was the same beautiful scarlet trimmed in gold. The bed curtains had been pulled back and tied to each of the four corners of the bed by large golden ropes.

There was another bookshelf to the right of the bed and another door that I assumed led to his closet. When I looked to the left, I paused. Standing in the left hand corner of Marco’s bedroom was a beautiful gilded cage. There was a swing inside that looked as if it were waiting for some massive bird to perch atop it.

“You have a cage in your bedroom?”

“It’s just for looks,” he said with a shrug.

“I don’t want to know,” I said quickly.

Hearing about Marco’s sexual perversions was not the best choice of subject for me.

“Where’s the bathroom?”

“This way.” He motioned to the open door on the wall, past the cage.

Marco’s bathroom was beautiful.

“I’m impressed.” I smiled. “Most men don’t appreciate a tub like this.”

With my last words, I walked over to the large tub that sat in the middle of the room. Like the bed, it was elevated slightly. The tub looked to be made of black marble, which matched the countertop of the double vanity to the left. In place of one long mirror above the sinks, there were two mirrors, oval shaped and ornately framed in a dark, almost black wood. The cabinets underneath the sinks, as well as the linen closet along the wall were stained a deep mahogany.

Above the tub was a circular rod which held a beautiful red curtain. Upon closer inspection, I saw that it was silk and embroidered with many leaves and vines. Against the back wall was a walk-in shower that matched the same honey colored ceramic tiles of the floor.

“It’s not my business, but how do you afford all of this?”

“Well, I was a Hunter for about a year before my attack, which as you know is good money.” Marco leaned against the door frame as he continued, “I saved, invested and bought this building that has turned into a very successful club. Besides, all of this wasn’t done at once. The bathroom was only just completed this past winter.”

“When did you open the club?”

“About four years ago.”

“How come I’d never heard of it?”

“You just didn’t come to the right part of town,” he teased.

I sat on the rim of the tub and began removing my boots.

“Are you gonna watch?”

The grin he gave me made me wish I hadn’t asked.

“Never mind.” I sighed. “Forget I asked.”

“Just inside the shower, there’s a little space where you can get undressed before stepping under the water,” he informed me.

I looked in the shower and found what looked like a walk-in closet covered with tile. Beside the entrance there was a seat built into the wall. I started to slide my skirt down when a thought occurred to me.

“Are you going to stay in here?”

“If you’ll hand me your clothes, I’ll see that they’re washed.”

That got my attention. I leaned around to look at him and found the same wolfish grin as before.

“You expect me to hand over my clothes?”

“Yes.” He smiled and stretched out his hand.

I glared at him.

“And then I’m going to light the candles.” He sighed. “And I’ll keep my distance, but I’m not leaving the room.”

“What am I supposed to wear?”

“I’ll find you something.” He grinned.

My glare grew more fierce.

“Something decent,” he added.

“Fine, but how will I know where you are?”

“I’ll sit in a chair beside the door.”

“Talk to me,” I said, handing him my skirt.

I retreated back around the corner, stripped as quickly as possible and flung my clothes out the door in Marco’s general direction. As I moved quickly behind the half wall that separated the little seat from the shower, I heard him laugh softly.

“Don’t use all the hot water, Red.”

After a minute or so of adjusting the water I heard the distinct sound of a zipper and a belt being unbuckled.

“Marco,” I said, almost frantically.

“Yes?”

He did sound as if he was near the door and my heart slowed down just a little.

“You’re not talking.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know ... What did you do after you were a Hunter?”

“I was a shepherd.”

“All right smartass, you pick the subject. But keep talking. I want to know where you are.”

He sighed. “All right ... the tub.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, you mentioned most guys not liking a tub that big. It’s not that I’m a prima donna or anything. Shapeshifting can sometimes be a messy business.”

“Gross.”

“Hey, you said to pick a subject.”

I opened a bottle of shampoo and breathed in Marco’s scent. Normally it would have aroused me, but tonight it was a comfort.

“I’ve got a subject. You said before that once in a great while a wolf is born with powers like mine. When was the last time something like that happened?”

“I honestly don’t know. It’s so rare that it’s only a legend really. For all I know, you may be the first. There’s no proof otherwise.”

After taking a few minutes to try to digest this information I heard Marco yell from the bedroom, “Silk or satin?”

“Silk,” I answered without thinking.

I heard the chair move slightly and assumed he’d sat back down before I thought to add, “Marco, leave the bra out, will you?”

“Sure, but why?”

“I rarely sleep without one. I don’t want to wake up one morning with my breasts around my waist.”

He laughed and it made me smile.

“Red?”

“Yes?”

“There’s something I want to ask you. Now that you’ve seen the painting ... Are you afraid of me?”

“No,” I answered as I turned off the water.

Most people might have been frightened to know that their long time enemy had painted such an intimate portrait of them, but I wasn’t. Marco didn’t give off that obsessed lunatic vibe. Besides, after what I’d put of him in my sketchbook, I had no right to judge.

“I’m not a psycho or anything.” As he said this his bare muscular arm reached around the corner with a towel in hand.

“I know,” I said, snatching the towel and wrapping it around me quickly. “You’re not naked out there are you?”

I heard a rustle of fabric before he answered, “Not anymore.”

When I stepped out I was relieved to see him standing there in a black bathrobe that was securely tied in front. It was both a disappointment and a relief to be spared the naked sight of him. So far, I’d been on my best behavior, but there was only so much I could take.

“I’ve laid out something for you on the bed.”

The lights flickered again.

“I’d better hurry,” he added.

Marco brushed past me and a moment later I was hit in the face by his bathrobe. He was laughing when he turned on the water.

“Hey, Red?”

“Hmm?”

“Before you go, run some water in the tub, just in case we’re without power for a while.”

I left the water running and went to get dressed. Marco had left a pair of red silk pajamas on his bed with my black lace bra laid across them. As I slipped into the pajamas I could tell by their size that they were his. I rolled the top of the pants down a few times and rolled the legs up so I wouldn’t trip. I had just slid the top around my shoulders when I heard him turn off the shower. Hurriedly I buttoned the shirt, leaving the last few buttons open so that the unscarred part of my stomach just below the navel was revealed.

I heard his wet feet slapping across the tile and knew that he was walking naked across the bathroom. I excused myself to the large living room so he could get dressed. But when I left, he didn’t close the door.

As I sat among the huge pillows on the leather sofa near the fire I asked, “Why did you take me to a hotel?”

“Huh?” I heard him stumble over something.

“When I picked you up that night, why not bring me here?”

“Because I wasn’t sure I could trust you.”

“And you’re so certain now?”

“Not really.”

Marco emerged from the bedroom looking like a wet dream. He was wearing pajama pants that matched mine, but in place of a regular top, he wore a matching robe which hung to mid-calf. The robe was open, revealing just how well the honeyed bronze of his skin was complemented by the red. As he walked, I could see the beginnings of a tattoo that must have reached around his lower back, because it came to a downward point just above the muscular curve of his hips.

When Marco stopped beside the couch he ran a hand through his dark wet hair and I shivered.

“Matching pjs?” I asked.

“It’s not like anybody’s going to see.” He smiled. “Are you hungry?”

There was a clock on the table beside the couch, and I leaned over to look at it.

“It’s twelve thirty,” I said dryly.

“Haven’t you ever heard of a midnight snack?”

Since he mentioned it, my stomach did feel kind of empty. So, I followed him to the kitchen, which was a little bigger than mine, with deep mahogany cabinets and stainless steel appliances. Above the cabinets were a variety of odd shaped vases. A table sat near the back of the room that could seat eight people. It had an odd arrangement as a centerpiece, another faded red basket in the shape of a vase filled with a bizarre assortment of willow branches, palm leaves, and various wing dings.

He walked over to the refrigerator and pulled both doors open wide.

“You know,” he remarked thoughtfully, “I’m pretty sure it was me that picked you up.”

“What would give you that impression?” I moved closer to look under his arm and into the fridge.

“Because it was my suggestion to leave,” he said smugly.

“I hate you,” I said, but my words lacked conviction.

“Yeah, I hate you, too,” he said, leaning in to reach something in the back of the refrigerator. “Have some fruit.” Marco handed me a large dish full of pineapple.

“How did you know I liked pineapple?”

“It’s the first thing you did when you got your drink.”

“What?”

“You ate the pineapple after stirring it around in the rum,” he said absently.

I looked at him in amazement as he continued to dig through the leftovers in his refrigerator. “Is there anything you don’t notice?”

“Not much.” He smiled.

After a few minutes, he had removed some more fruit, grilled chicken, and a plate of what looked like raw strips of steak. He took all of this, placed it on a tray, and carried it toward the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“To bed.”

“You expect me to get in the bed with you?”

“Look, there’s a television in the bedroom and I want to see the weather report.”

That sounded completely reasonable, but I didn’t trust Marco as far as I could throw him, and I was no weightlifter. He had lit some of the candles earlier and as I walked past them I breathed in their soft vanilla fragrance.

“Will you close the curtains please?” he asked.

After pulling their cords and watching all three sets of curtains swish to a close, I walked back in the bedroom. Marco was reclined back against the pillows with his ankles crossed and the tray beside him. His attention was focused intently on the plasma screen TV that was attached to the wall at the foot of the bed.

I went around to the side of the bed near the bathroom and crawled up beside him. He looked very serious.

“What are they saying?”

“It’ll be here in a few hours, and it’s not losing much strength.”

He got up and closed the curtain on the one window in his bedroom beside the closet door and said, “I’m going downstairs. I’ll be right back.”

Just then something smashed against the window. I quickly slid off the bed and took a step toward him. “You wanna come?” he said, laughing.

“Don’t be an asshole, Marco.”

“It’s a bit late for that.”

I agreed, but I kept it to myself. Normally, by the time the weather ever got this bad I went to the dungeon. But, seeing as how I didn’t have that option at the time I decided to go with Marco. After spending the last several hurricanes below ground, I had forgotten just how frightening they could sometimes be. Plus, I found his presence strangely comforting ever since the night when he nuzzled against my thigh.

As we entered the main room and began to walk down the stairs I noticed I was holding on to the back of his robe and immediately let go, but not before several people, including Luther, had seen. Luther raised his eyebrows at me, but didn’t comment. Smart man. Marco made sure the front door was bolted and the windows were either taped or boarded up. I noticed several of the female werewolves in the crowd practically drooling over Marco as he made his way around the room checking everything.

One woman in particular gave me a nasty look then went back to leering at Marco, and it pissed me off. I felt something inside of me rise up in response to her challenge, because it was a challenge if I’d ever seen one.

When Marco walked back to where I stood halfway up the stairs, I leaned into him, reaching my hands inside his robe. He looked a question at me and I stood on tiptoe in order to whisper, “If that bitch looks at me like that again, I’ll kill her.”

He leaned back and looked into my eyes a moment before giving me a seductive smile. “You wouldn’t be trying to mislead my pack, now would you? Because you haven’t accepted my offer.”

I took hold of his robe near the collar and pulled him toward me. “I’m just marking my territory,” I whispered as I kissed the delicate skin just behind his earlobe.

“Your territory, hmm?” he purred, his voice beginning to deepen with desire.

“As far as they’re concerned it is.”

He pulled back.

“You mean until you can make up your mind, they better walk the line.” It was a statement of fact.

“You’re damn right.”

He smiled at me, but his eyes held a touch of sadness. “Don’t use me, Red.”

I caressed the side of his face and from the view everyone else had, it must have looked fairly intimate.

“I would never deliberately hurt you,” I whispered.

“Good, you do enough damage accidentally.”

While I wondered exactly how to take his last remark, Marco turned to Luther and asked, “Is everything under control down here?”

“Yes,” Luther answered. “Get some rest.”

I turned sharply toward Luther at his last words, but he managed to keep a straight face. About that time the drunken DJ staggered to the foot of the stairs and howled, “Damn, it’s good to be the king! That’s what I’m talkin’ about. You know you’re top wolf when you take Death to bed in matching pajamas.”

Marco tried to play it cool, but I saw the beginnings of a smile as he told Luther, “Get him some coffee.”

The inebriated werewolf then barked like a dog and did an awkward flip.

“Or a tranquilizer,” Marco suggested.

Once we were back in his apartment, I’d had time to think about what he’d said downstairs.

“Marco, I’m sorry if—”

“It’s all right, Red,” he said softly. “I’m not going to try to steal you away from your scientist.”

“I didn’t mean to tease you.”

“You didn’t tease me, Red. You were serious. You just don’t have the heart to follow through with the threat.”

“Bastard.”

“But I’m right. You’ll soon find that your scientist buddy is not enough for you.”

“And you’re just going to wait around?”

“You’ll find I’m very patient.” He smiled.

“You know, Mathias said the same thing,” I said irritably.

“That I’m patient?”

“No, that no ordinary man would ever understand me.”

“Did he?” This seemed to please him.

“What do you two think I am, some sort of sex maniac?”

Marco looked frustrated. “Get your mind out of my pants, Red. It’s not all about sex.”

I would have argued, but I was tired and he was right.

“Then what’s it about?”

“Come to bed with me and I’ll show you. But first, I’m going to eat something.”

That sounded like a come on if I’d ever heard one, but he didn’t leave me much choice except to follow him. Once we were both situated back on the bed and Marco had a mouth full of raw steak he realized we didn’t have anything to drink.

He stomped back toward the kitchen with a growl and after a minute or two yelled, “Water, wine, or beer?”

“Red wine?”

“Yeah,” there was still a touch of growl in his voice.

“What kind?”

“Does it matter?” He was definitely growling at me.

“Make it a beer then. Do you have any lime?”

He didn’t answer, but when he returned in a minute, he brought two key limes and a knife and laid them in front of me. I sliced the lime small enough to stuff a few pieces into the bottle and swished them around. Marco still looked like his butt was thoroughly chapped, so I didn’t offer him any.

We ate in silence, both of us watching the weather report. Finally I worked up the nerve to ask, “Can I get on that side?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because this side is closest to the door.”

“So?”

“So, if anybody comes through that door, they’ll have to go through me to get to you.”

Well, that shut me up. I still hadn’t gotten used to the idea of Marco wanting to protect me. For the next several minutes I ate pineapple and shut my mouth. According to the weather report, hurricane Alistair would reach us by around four in the morning.

My head was beginning to nod involuntarily when Marco got up and went into the bathroom. He left the door open and I could hear him brushing his teeth. When he came back, he took the tray to the kitchen without a word, came back and slid close to me across the satin sheets.

“Come here,” he said.

“I thought you weren’t going to molest me,” I objected, but not like my heart was in it.

He sighed. “Just shut up and come here.”

“My, grandma what a chapped ass you have.”

Marco smiled, but looked like he didn’t want to.

“I don’t know if I can just snuggle up to you like this,” I said.

“I won’t bite.”

“But—”

“Let me show you something.”

I would have thought he was making a pass at me, but his expression said otherwise. As I slid closer to Marco the heat from his skin seemed to rise to meet me. He was warm and inviting, like a blanket in winter.

“The desire that you feel to touch me is not completely sexual,” he explained. As he said this, the warm and sexual feeling which usually emanated from Marco changed slightly. It was the comforting feeling I had been experiencing off and on that night.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Have you ever wondered why members of the pack like to stay so close to one another?”

“I’ve only recently noticed it. I didn’t exactly hang out with werewolves before.”

“It’s because there is safety in the pack. There is a feeling of comfort and security that they get from being near each other, much like natural wolves.”

“I had wondered, but why are you telling me this?”

“Because I believe that there is enough of the wolf in you to feel the same way.”

The thought of me reacting to him like another werewolf frightened me. All of the memories of Peter calling me a monster, of people being afraid of me, they all began to surface. Marco must have read my expression.

“Do you think of me as a monster?” he asked gently.

“I used to.” My voice was nearly a whisper.

“And now?”

“Now, I’m not so sure.”

Marco reached out to me and I leaned into his embrace. I ran my hand over the rigid muscles of his stomach, gently caressing the fine hairs that ran down his torso. As if by instinct I snuggled closer to him, rubbing my face against his throat.

When I reached the hairline just behind his ear, I breathed deeply. I ran my nose farther into his hair with every breath. Marco always smelled good, but there was something else underneath his scent. There was the smell of fresh air, of wide open fields and forest. But beneath all of that was the unmistakable scent of a wolf. As I breathed in that scent, I felt comfort in it and knew that Marco was right about me.

“But, I’ve never felt this from being near another werewolf.”

“I am alpha,” Marco answered simply. “I affect you more strongly. Besides, it’s only natural for one alpha to find comfort in the embrace of another.”

“So that means that I’m ...” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Werewolf enough to recognize the scent of the pack just now,” he finished for me.

I trembled slightly and Marco pulled me back against him.

“If anyone knew ... I had no idea that the transformation was so close to being complete. Some of the Hunters I know might kill me.”

“Shh,” he whispered softly. “I won’t tell anybody.”

“Marco, I’m serious, if anyone knew—”

“Don’t panic. You’re still not a werewolf. Your body mutated the virus in a way I would have never thought possible. You’re definitely something else, but you’re at least half werewolf.”

“Shit.”

Marco stroked my hair and I felt my eyes beginning to shut of their own accord.

“Look at it this way,” he soothed, “you’ve been this way for years now. You just didn’t know it.”

“I’m scared,” I confessed.

“Of what?”

“Of everything.”

Marco held me tighter as he repeated, “Whatever comes through that door has to get through me first.”

“I don’t think you can protect me from what I’m afraid of.”

“Maybe not, but tonight I can keep you safe from the storm.”

“What about tomorrow?” I mumbled against his throat.

He pulled me to rest nearly on top of him as he answered, “No use worrying about it now.”

I rested my face against Marco’s chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The weather report droned on in the background as the storm raged like an angry beast outside. My small body rose and fell with his breathing where I lay atop him. Any other time, I would have torn Marco apart, but I needed comfort and that was what he had offered. I wasn’t stupid. The way he looked at me was plain to see. But he was sincere in his desire to protect me and I needed a protector.

Of course I would never admit out loud that I wanted to be taken care of, but it was true. I liked being able to do things on my own, and when it came down to brass tacks, I didn’t need anyone ... I just wanted someone. I was tough and strong willed, so not just any man would do. I needed someone man enough to put me in my place. By that, I don’t mean someone harsh, but a man who knew how to take charge when it was necessary and had enough sense to know when it wasn’t.

The longer I lay against Marco’s body, the better I felt. His skin was hot to the touch, but not quite the fever that he ran before the full moon. I was beginning to realize that Marco always ran a slight temperature and I wondered if all werewolves did the same.

I kept brushing my face absently against the hair on his chest. He gave me the feeling of pressing a warm towel, straight out of the dryer against my cheek. I sighed deeply as I ran my left hand underneath his shoulder, pulling myself farther up against his neck. He put his hand over me and began to rub my back.

Thunder sounded like an explosion outside. I lifted my head from Marco’s chest, my heart beating frantically as I looked around. The room was completely dark and my night vision would take a few seconds to kick in.

Marco must have sensed my panic, because he wrapped both arms around me and kissed the top of my head.

“What time is it?” I asked with a trace of panic still in my voice.

He pushed up to a sitting position against the pillows and I slid to his side while he checked the clock on the table. “It’s ten minutes past four.”

That explained the noise, Alistair was right on time. The wind howled like a demon, rattling the windows.

“I’ll light some candles,” he said. His voice was rougher after having just awakened, and I liked it.

As my night vision started to kick in, the room gradually came into focus. My eyes needed less time to adjust than the average person’s, but they still needed time. Marco retrieved one of those long lighters from the small chest of drawers he was using as a bedside table.

While he lit the candles around the room I began to appreciate how wonderful Marco looked in the candlelight. He sat a large candle on a glass plate in the middle of the floor and lit the four wicks across the top. As usual, I couldn’t seem to take my eyes from him. I watched as the candlelight cast shadows over the curves and valleys of his muscular torso. He looked up at me just then and the way the light reflected in his eyes made them almost appear to glow. Yet again, I could hear Kat telling me that I was most likely out of my mind. Any other time I would have jumped him, but all I could think was if he would come back to bed I might possibly get some really good sleep.

Marco stretched back out on the bed and reached for me. I suddenly had the urge to touch as much of his skin to mine as possible. The desire I had was strange to me, yet somehow seemed natural. I unbuttoned the pajama top I was wearing and let it fall open as I leaned over Marco. He smiled at me and seemed to understand that what I felt was not sexual. I supposed it was like he explained to me earlier, just a natural desire to be close. As I lay back across him, Marco wrapped me in his arms and sighed. His stomach was so warm that it seemed to burn against mine. I pressed my face back into the curve of his throat and drifted off to sleep.

Over the next few hours I got the most restful sleep of my life. I had never known such a deep sleep was possible. Sometime in the night I had rolled to my side. When I woke up I was topless with Marco pressed against my bare back. The storm could still be heard outside and although the windows rattled less fiercely, the power was still out. My bra was still on, but when I stretched I noticed that Marco’s hand was cupped underneath my right breast. I decided not to complain. He had truly been on his best behavior. After all, you can’t expect a wolf to wear sheep’s clothing forever.

My first conscious thought many hours later was that I was cold. The power was back on and the air conditioner was working overtime. I rolled over and found myself alone, but the covers were still warm where Marco had been. He hadn’t been gone long. Just then, I heard the toilet flush and knew where he was. I slipped the pajama top back on and snuggled face down into the pillows. When I heard Marco step back into the room, I decided to pretend I was asleep.

My body moved slightly as he crawled up the bed. Marco leaned over me, so close that I felt the heat from his body, but without actually touching me. I tensed, waiting for him to make a move, but he just sort of hovered there.

The second I let my guard down, he pounced and bit my ear. I squealed, but not in pain. He rolled me over a few times laughing.

“I knew you weren’t asleep,” he said.

“What time is it?”

“You keep asking that. Is there somewhere you need to be?”

“Not really, but I can’t stay here.”

He held me tighter. “Why?”

“Because I can’t Marco. Don’t be dense.”

“Oh sure, I’m good enough to make a teddy bear out of last night, but once the storm passes you insult me.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?”

I didn’t know what to say. The tone of his voice was teasing, but his eyes were serious. I didn’t want to hurt Marco, but once the storm passed, I really did need to go. What if Alfred had been trying to contact me? Or what if Kat and Elijah had been calling me?

“What am I supposed to tell people if they’ve been trying to reach me?”

“Most likely anyone who would try to reach you is out of power. So, I really wouldn’t worry about that.”

“But what about Alfred?” I shouldn’t have said that. As soon as the words had left my mouth, I regretted it.

“He’s a big boy. He can take care of himself, right?” Marco asked. But then, an expression of dawning reality began to spread over his features. “Unless ... he’s not there.”

Marco growled and the hungry grin he gave me was only missing fangs. “Alfred’s gone isn’t he? It should have occurred to me before. With the hearing coming up next month he’s probably off with Jacob, plotting something devious.”

I did my best to slither out of his embrace, but he held me tight.

“I’m right aren’t I?”

I sagged miserably against his chest. “Yes.”

“Red, why didn’t you tell me you were alone?”

“Have you ever looked in the mirror when you ask questions like that?”

He laughed. “Is it that bad?”

“Frightening.”

“I’m sorry, but that does explain a lot.”

“Like what?”

“Like how you weren’t at all concerned about our conversation being interrupted on the porch the other day. I thought you wouldn’t let me in because of Alfred.” He sighed. “Were you afraid that I would hurt you?”

“No, I was afraid of what I might do to you, given the chance.”

The honesty in my response seemed to surprise him so much that he let me go.

Chapter Sixteen

Marco informed me that according to the weather report storm conditions were still favorable to produce tornados so there was no point in getting dressed. I think he just liked the way I looked in his pajamas.

When Marco suggested cooking breakfast I decided to be nice and go collect the ingredients. It was a relief to see he wasn’t going to push the issue of Alfred’s disappearance further. Plus, I was grateful he seemed to respect the fact that I did not believe in casual sex. Don’t misunderstand me, if other people want to do it that’s fine. I’m not their judge. It’s just not something I’ve ever been able to do. I don’t think you have to wait for the love of your life or anything. I certainly hadn’t. But I believe that sex should mean something other than physical attraction.

Unfortunately, I knew some of what sleeping with Marco would mean, or could potentially mean, and I wasn’t ready for that. Of course, most of the pack thought we were sleeping together already, but that didn’t matter to me. The people that mattered knew the truth. Rumors would always fly as long as idiots could give them wings.

I had also been mulling over what Mathias said about being careful who I loved. At first I had thought his warning might have been against Marco, but now I wasn’t so sure. Mathias could see the future. He must have known the desires of Marco’s heart. He knew what that canvas would show. So, why then would he reveal such a thing to the man he was warning me against? It just didn’t make sense. I was obviously overlooking something.

However, as I made my way to the kitchen downstairs, I no longer had the strength to think about it. Sleeping next to Marco had given me a sort of lethargy which carried over into the next day. I wasn’t used to resting that way and couldn’t seem to shake it. It had taken me until then to understand what a good night’s sleep really felt like, and I liked it. I laughed to myself at the thought of inviting Marco over to spend the night if I ever had trouble sleeping. Of course, Alfred would never go along with that idea. It was purely a fantasy.

The first floor of the club was filled with snoring werewolves, most of them in sleeping bags scattered out across the floor at odd angles. A few were resting with their heads propped on a table and the DJ that had been so drunk the night before was asleep with his head hanging through the railing on the floor above.

As I made my way toward the door behind the bar that would lead me to the kitchen, I heard someone growl. I looked back around again at the sleeping werewolves and focused on the woman who had given me the dirty look the night before. She was a scrawny woman about my height, with long blond hair.

“Bitch,” she snarled, taking a step closer.

“Excuse me?” My heart beat faster in response. Adrenaline was definitely kicking in.

“You think you can just come in here and take him away from us?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t be stupid. His scent is all over you.” Her voice was rising, and a few of the other wolves were beginning to stir.

“Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but I just came down here to get to the kitchen. Perhaps you should seek therapy,” I said.

As I turned around she growled, “Come back here.”

That was it. I had tried to be nice, but my patience was gone.

“I don’t know who you think you are, bitch, but no one orders me around,” I growled.

She snapped at me in response to my last comment.

“You’ve got one chance to back down, and I’ll leave you alive.”

“HA! You think you’re all that?”

“If you attack me, make sure that’s what you meant to do, because if you take that step, there is no going back. Make no mistake, you will die.”

“And what is a human werewolf hunter going to do to me? You don’t have any weapons,” she spat.

More of the pack was awake by that time and they were beginning to gather around us.

“You’ve obviously been misinformed.”

I took a deep breath and felt my heartbeat slow down. The world became crystal clear and I focused on the moment at hand. The woman in front of me had just made a very poor decision, but the choice had been hers to make.

Before I’d had a moment to decide my best defense, she lunged at me with a deafening howl. I grabbed a handful of the front of her shirt and shoved my foot into her chest. As I dropped to my back, I flung her over me, kicking at the height of my throw and slamming her so hard into the front doors that they creaked under the pressure.

The woman slid to the floor as I stalked toward her, extending the claws of my right hand. The rage I’d felt the previous night when she’d looked at Marco spilled over me and I slashed her across the face, causing sections of her smooth cheek to peel backward.

“I’ll kill you,” she screamed.

But when she tried to stand up I bent my left arm back and slammed my elbow into the top of her skull, and something cracked. She never made it off the floor. About this time, Marco came to see what was taking me so long. He froze at the foot of the stairs.

The woman fell limp to one side and I turned my attention to Marco as I retracted my claws.

“I had no choice,” I explained.

Luther stepped forward. “She’s right. Amy attacked Lilith on her way to the kitchen.”

It was nice to have backup, but I hadn’t asked for it. It made me wonder if Marco wouldn’t have taken my word alone.

“I gave her a choice.” I motioned back to where she lay. “This is the choice she made.”

“I see,” Marco finally responded.

About that time, the before motionless Amy rose to her feet and ran at me, her mutilated cheek hanging back horribly from the bones of her face.

“You goddamned bitch,” she screamed, her voice deepening with the beginnings of the change.

I grabbed a nearby chair and hit her with all of my strength across the face. The chair splintered and her neck flopped nauseatingly to one side. She hit the floor with a loud smack.

You could have heard a pin drop as I turned back to Marco and said, “I’m sorry for killing one of your wolves, but she left me no choice.”

“I agree,” he said grimly, looking down at Amy’s body.

There was more I wanted to say to him, but it was not for the prying eyes that surrounded us to observe. I was truly sorry for what I’d been forced to do, but I wasn’t about to let her kill me.

Luther reached over me and I felt a sharp pain in my back. He held up a large bloody piece of glass and asked me, “Didn’t you feel that?”

“No.” I looked at the glass in amazement. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said absently.

My back felt warm and I knew that it was blood pouring from the wound. I looked around and saw I had fallen on a broken bottle. It must have been knocked from the table when she had lunged at me. Damn. It hurt, but I wasn’t about to show weakness to that crowd.

“You still hungry?” I asked Marco.

He looked stunned, but nodded as he said, “I’ll come with you.”

Luther gestured toward the body on the floor at our feet. “I’ll take care of this.”

Marco and I walked through the door behind the bar and into the kitchen. What had become club Red had at one time been a small restaurant and still had a very nice kitchen, complete with a large freezer at the back. Without a word I walked all the way to the freezer before I let myself get upset.

“Son of a bitch.” I slammed my fist into the stainless steel door.

“Red, are you all right?” Marco snatched up my shirt and began to examine my back.

“You mean other than the gaping wound in my back? Yeah, I’m fine,” I snapped.

“There’s more glass here,” he said.

“Great.”

He went to a closet in the back of the room and took out a huge first aid kit.

“Wait. Can you do this upstairs?”

“Yes.” He paused looking confused.

“Then let’s go upstairs. The longer we spend down here, the more they’ll think I’m having to depend on you to patch me up.”

He eyed me critically for a moment before putting the first aid kit back.

“Are you sure you’ve never been around a wolf pack before? You certainly seem to know what others would take as weakness.”

“I’m just very self-conscious. Now, let’s get what we came for and walk back upstairs.”

We hurried and got the breakfast supplies that we’d come for in the first place. Whether or not we were going to eat remained to be seen, but I’d be damned if I let them think that some crazy she-wolf had interrupted my plans. So, I was losing blood. I’d live.

On our way back, I refused to let Marco support me at all, but didn’t object when he said to at least let him carry the food. Once we were inside his office, my knees began to buckle. He dropped everything on the desk and nearly ran to me.

“Damn it, Red. What’s wrong with you?”

“I landed on a broken bottle remember?”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about. You’re losing a lot of blood.” He scooped me up like I weighed nothing and carried me into his apartment.

“You know, it’s not a sign of weakness to let the alpha male take care of you. It’s an honor not many are ever afforded.”

“I feel so special,” I joked.

Marco gave me a nasty look, but I could see the concern behind his dark eyes.

A minute or so later, he put me down beside the tub and started striping the pajamas off of me.

“What the hell?”

“I’ve got to find all of the glass,” he said.

I stood there topless while Marco fished several more pieces of glass out of my back and tossed them onto the countertop. Next, he tried to lead me to the shower.

“Wait a minute, what are you doing?”

“I need to clean the wound. The easiest and least painful way to do that is to rinse your back in the shower. Then I can stitch you up.”

“I need stitches?”

“A few.” He took off his robe and flung it onto a chair in the corner.

“Marco, I am not getting in the shower naked with you.”

“Fine, you want me to get in with my clothes on?”

“I can wash the wound myself. Just stand by the door.”

He stared me down for a moment before agreeing. Once I stepped inside the shower and tried to bend over to slide the pants off, I found that it pulled the gash in my back and caused not only more bleeding, but intense pain.

“Marco?”

“Yes?”

“Could you take my pants off, please?” I was utterly humiliated.

“I’m sorry, did you actually ask for my help?”

“Don’t be an asshole now. I think I just ripped something else loose trying to undress myself. You can gloat later.”

Marco stepped inside the shower, reached around my back and removed my bra. He took hold of the pajamas at my waist and kneeled at my feet, sliding the silk pjs down with him. To my surprise, he didn’t ogle me or make any obscene remarks, but he did watch while I turned on the water.

“Just stand where the water can hit you. I’ll get a towel.”

When he came back a few minutes later and stood on the other side of the half wall divider, I was beginning to feel dizzy. I didn’t even care anymore that I was naked. I just wanted to lie back down.

I walked to where Marco held the towel out for me and stepped into his arms.

“It’s just not right,” I griped.

“What’s that?”

“You having to take care of me.”

“Get over it.”

He sat me on the side of the tub with the towel clasped to my chest, but my back exposed. In a minute he was back with an even bigger first aid kit than the one downstairs.

“Do you keep those everywhere?”

“You’ve obviously never spent time with a werewolf before.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Can you see me walking into an emergency room? First thing they’d want to do is blood work. Guess what? I’ve got a virus they’ve never heard of before. Holy shit, it’s a werewolf,” he said.

“Not that they could identify it that quickly, but I see what you mean.”

He pulled out a needle and thread.

“You want this straight, or would you like something for pain?”

“That depends. How many stitches do I need?”

He looked at my back again before answering. “Several.”

“What have you got?”

He named off several things, all of which were strong enough to take down a horse, which was what most werewolves needed for it to be effective.

“Just pick one before I start to heal with these all crooked,” I said finally.

He handed me some pills and a glass of water. I took them unquestioningly. Within about ten minutes they were working. That’s another good thing about having a fast metabolism. Pain medicine might not last as long, but it worked fast.

When Marco began to run the needle through my skin, I felt a slight tugging sensation, but no pain. He had obviously done this before.

“What did you land on exactly? This was way too much glass for a beer bottle.”

“It looked like a giant mason jar.”

“Shit.” I heard him clip the thread.

“Yeah, well at least it’s not in your back.”

“Do you scar?”

“Not since my attack,” I said.

“Good. I’d hate for something so stupid to ruin such beautiful skin.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss on my shoulder. “All done. You still hungry?”

My stomach growled before I could answer. “Actually, I am.”

Marco led me into the bedroom where he helped me slip into one of his silk robes. This one was black and reached to my ankles. My back felt stiff when I moved and I dreaded trying to drive home. Of course, it was still storming outside, so that might be a while. Hurricane Alistair had moved farther upstate and would shortly be downscaled to a tropical storm, but the weather was still awful.

I sat at one of the barstools in the kitchen and watched Marco cook breakfast. After sitting a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of me he asked, “How quickly do you heal?”

“It depends on the injury. Light bruises and minor stuff is usually healed overnight. Cuts, like the ones on my back may take up to a week. Why?”

“I may know of a faster way for you to heal. That is unless you want to drive home with stitches in your back?”

“Well, I’d prefer to avoid it,” I said around a mouthful of toast. “What’s your idea?”

“Sleep with me,” he said, while he got some juice out of the fridge.

I started to choke on my eggs and he added, “I mean literally, sleep.” He handed me a glass of juice and I gulped it down. “Still got your mind in my pants, Red?” he joked.

“I really hate you.”

“So you keep saying, but you didn’t hate me very much last night.”

“I was cold.” It was a weak defense.

He laughed. “Sure, and we weren’t lying on top of a thick comforter. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Red.” He winked.

After breakfast, he suggested that we lie down while the pain killers were still working and I would be able to fall asleep more easily. When we got back into the bedroom, he started to strip.

“Whoa! Wait a minute! What are you doing?”

“Can’t you ever just trust me?”

“No, I want an explanation.”

He sighed resignedly. “Injured wolves recover faster with rest. Their recovery is also speeded by the nearness of pack members.”

“What’s that got to do with you getting naked?”

“It only works if I can touch your injury with my bare skin.” The way he spoke those last few words did something for me. But then again, just looking at Marco did something for me. I had no idea how I could lie in a bed with him, naked. I wasn’t entirely sure I could control myself. And through the fog of sedation, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. The one thing I was sure of was that if I had sex with Marco, I would regret it in the morning.

“Marco, I don’t know if I can lie here with you naked.”

“I promise to hold back.” He seemed serious.

“Hold back?”

“You’re not the only one with sexual powers you know. For some werewolves, it just comes with the territory.”

“And you’re one of those werewolves?”

He nodded with a sexy smile.

“I knew you were trying to seduce me.” I pointed a finger at him.

His laugh floated over my skin and gave me chills. “I’m not the one who’s in denial,” he said.

I took a deep breath and decided that for both our sakes, I should be as completely honest as possible. “I’ll be straight with you, Marco. Even if you do hold back, there’s only so much I can take.” It griped my butt to admit how he affected me, but it was true.

His smile was everything you’d expect the devil to be as he responded smoothly, “You’ve got ten stitches in your back, Red.”

“You’ve obviously underestimated the effect you have on me.”

Marco’s smile began to fade, and there was a tenderness in his eyes that made me want to trust him. “Can’t you just let me comfort you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Didn’t you find me comforting last night?”

“I certainly did, with all of your clothes on.”

He laughed. “At least give me a chance. I can control how much of my power that you feel.” He opened his arms and reached for me. “You’re not mine to protect ... you’re really not mine at all, but you’re here now, and I need to be near you.”

I stepped into his embrace and wrapped my arms around him. Marco was bare from the waist up and I pressed my face against the soft hair on his chest. It hurt to move my arms because it flexed the skin over my back, but I didn’t care. The soft warm skin of his back was too irresistible not to caress. As I ran my hands over his muscular arms, I rubbed my face against him like a cat. Marco had the most amazingly well built physique. He was muscular without being overdone. In every way that was observable to the naked eye, Marco was just right.

He reached into the front of the robe I was wearing and slid it down past my shoulders.

“Let me help you, Red.”

He slid the robe down around my waist and I didn’t stop him. As Marco ran his warm hands over the cuts on my back he looked at my face even though my breasts were exposed. I appreciated the eye contact. Marco’s touch was like a drug to me and I felt weaker the more he touched me.

I placed my hands just over the sinuous curve of his hips and pressed myself against him. The way the hair on his chest felt pressed against my bare breasts was all I had imagined it would be. In my mind I was taken back to that first night when I’d seen him in the club and later handcuffed him to a chair for questioning. That evening in my hotel room I had dreamed about Marco and how good it would feel to touch him this way. But my dreams which were usually so vivid could not compare to the reality of having him hold me like that.

After a few minutes, my back felt less stiff and I told him so.

“Now do you believe me?” he asked lazily. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one that our contact was having a drugging effect on.

“I always believed you,” I said looking up at him. “I just kept hoping there was an alternative to being naked and alone with you.”

He smiled down at me. “Why?”

“To keep me from doing this,” I whispered.

I allowed myself to do something that I had wanted to do for months. I stood on tiptoe and kissed him. His lips were warm, and full, and willing. The contact was soft and tender. I had kissed Marco before, but not like this. This kiss was without the same hunger or the passion of the night he’d been cuffed to the chair. I had wanted to crawl inside of him and roll around for a while.

What I felt now was a genuine desire to be a part of him. Marco’s touch was absent of the supernatural powers of the wolf. He simply touched me like a man who cared. He didn’t take the opportunity to grope me while I was vulnerable. Though I appreciated that, part of me wished he would. I could control my ability to read people’s emotions to a certain extent. However, when my guard was compromised by drugs, injury, and contact with naked skin, there was only so much that I could block. The emotion I picked up from Marco was not the raw lust I would have expected, but a desire to know more of me. I had never felt such need. He wanted to be whatever he needed to be, as long as he was mine.

Just that knowledge was enough to make me want him. Combine that with the fact that Marco was beyond desirable even without the emotions and anyone could see my dilemma. I ran my fingertips around the top of his pants as I desperately fought the urge the snatch them around his ankles.

He deepened the kiss and my knees would no longer support me. Marco held me gently, so as not to tear my stitches, but I was not as careful. In fact, by this time, I’d forgotten I even had stitches. When I reached up to wrap my arms around his neck, I was very forcefully reminded.

“Son of a bitch,” I said hotly.

Marco leaned back and said quickly, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” He seemed to come out of the fog we’d both been in as he said, “Wait a minute, you kissed me. Why am I a son of a bitch?”

I laughed, and it hurt. “Not you. I think I pulled my stitches.”

He winced. “That’s gotta hurt.”

“Yeah, it does. I appreciate your compassion,” I said sarcastically.

He stepped forward and pulled the sash on the black robe. Without further effort, it fell to the floor. Marco walked around me and I could feel his eyes on my back.

“It’s all right,” he said. “Nothing’s bleeding. Besides, those pills should still be working.”

“They are. It only hurts when I do something stupid.”

“You must be in constant pain,” he drawled.

Marco hugged me against him and his body felt good against my back, almost like a balm. I was still fighting the urge to snatch those red pajamas around his ankles.

“Marco?”

“Yes,” he whispered against my ear.

“I’ve got a problem.”

“Besides the obvious ones? What’s that?”

“My mind is in your pants again.”

He laughed, causing the hairs on his chest to tickle me with the movement.

“That’s only a problem for one of us.”

He tilted my head to the side and pressed his lips into the curve between my neck and shoulder. My knees went weak again. I was so aroused just from his touch that I was already near orgasm. Like I had mentioned before, Marco just flat did it for me.

“I can’t do this,” I panted.

“Sure you can. It’s like riding a bike.” His rough voice vibrated along the sensitive skin of my throat. It probably wasn’t the brightest idea, allowing a werewolf such intimate access to my throat, but I took my chances.

“But, I can’t,” I nearly cried with frustration.

“Why not?”

When Marco turned me to face him, I expected to see anger, but found concern instead.

“Because I can’t do this without it meaning something ... and I’m not ready for what it might mean.”

“I understand.” He sighed.

“Really?”

“Yes,” he breathed against my hair as he embraced me again.

“You’re not angry?”

“Let me explain something to you,” he said patiently.

There was a long pause while I observed the contours of his handsome face before I asked, “What is there to explain?”

“I’m trying to think of a way to word this.”

I snuggled against his chest again as he asked, “You have a lot of shoes in your closet, right?”

“Of course, I’m a woman.”

“Well, you know that pair way in the back? You really like them, but you don’t wear them that often. Some days, you may not even think about them. But you always know they’re there, when you need something ... comfortable to fall back on.”

He paused and took a deep breath before confessing, “I am content to be that comfortable pair of shoes at the back of your closet.”

Tears stung the backs of my eyes and I fought them. It broke my heart to know he would allow me to treat him that way. And at the moment I didn’t have much choice.

“I understand that you have some things to sort out for yourself. But make no mistake, I am not the one that is confused about my feelings,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered against his arm as I leaned into him and he wrapped me up more tightly.

“Don’t be sorry, Red. Just think about it.”

“But what are we going to do now?”

“Well, you can’t drive home until your back is healed. And even if you did, the whole area around your house is out of power.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m telling you to spend the night with me.”

“But, it’s just now afternoon. What are we going to do all that time?”

He smiled his wolfish smile and I was glad he didn’t suggest something more explicit, because I could not have refused that smile.

“You’ll learn not to ask me such questions, Red. I’m not always a nice guy.”

“I know you’re The Big Bad Wolf.”

“So, your friend has nicknamed me. But, she’s right.”

“You’re not that way with me,” I insisted.

“Only with you,” he nearly whispered. “You make me your toy, but to others I am a force to be reckoned with.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Yes, but you’ve never seen. It’s obvious in the way you look at me that you have no idea what I’m capable of.”

“That goes both ways.”

He growled at me, but it was done playfully.

“Look, if this is going to turn into a pissing contest could we hurry it up? I’ve got to pee.”

He laughed as I started to walk toward the bathroom.

“I’ll be waiting for you.” He smiled suggestively. “Naked.”

I closed the door behind me and leaned my forehead against the wood. I couldn’t remember ever being more aroused in my life. Something about the very nearness of Marco did things to me that took other men time. I didn’t actually have to pee, but there was no delicate way to say that I was so worked up I needed a towel.

When I walked back out into the bedroom, Marco was reclined against the pillows with his arms crossed behind his head. The muscles of his upper body looked like they had been sculpted by the hands of a master artist. He grinned from ear to ear and I remembered that I was stark naked. With my eyes I followed the trail of hair that formed a v-shaped pattern over his chest and trailed down his abs in a fine line. It didn’t help that I knew the hair to be as soft as it looked. The comforter was pulled back and the silken red sheet draped over his lower body, gracefully covering the rest of him. I took the two steps up toward the bed and just stood there.

“Come here,” he said softly.

With those words he brushed the covers aside and I caught a glimpse of the curve of his hip as well as the top of his bare thigh. Carefully, I crawled onto the bed to avoid pulling the skin around my stitches.

As I sat there and looked at Marco, I realized that I was waiting for him to tell me what to do. It was a strange feeling, but it came naturally.

“Lie on your side,” he whispered.

I turned to face the bathroom door and felt Marco slide into place behind me. He was firm and warm, and comforting. As he pressed his upper body against my back I sighed. The touch of his skin soothed my injury. I pressed my hips back into the curve of his body and noticed that he’d tucked part of the sheet between us, preventing me from touching all of him.

“Relax,” he whispered as he slipped his arm around my waist.

I did. My body melted back against his, molding to the curve of his thighs. Only the thin fabric of the sheet separated all of his warm flesh from touching mine. My legs brushed against his, reaching only slightly farther down his shins than Alfred’s.

Marco pulled me more tightly against his chest and snuggled his face into the curve of my neck as he once again cupped my right breast in his hand.

“You’re so warm,” I whispered.

“The better to snuggle with,” he purred near my ear and I giggled.

I breathed deeply and my stitches didn’t pull. In fact, I couldn’t even feel them. Sleep tried to claim me and I fought it.

“Let yourself relax, Red. I won’t hurt you.”

“It’s not that,” I said sleepily.

I believed Marco would watch over me in my sleep and protect me, even from himself. The truth was I didn’t want to miss one minute of the way his body felt against mine.

“Then what is it?” he said softly, as his voice grew deeper with the effort it took to control himself.

“I don’t want to miss you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Red.”

I sighed in frustration, trying to fight the drowsiness caused by drugs and the nearness of Marco’s warm body. In my half-conscious state I whispered, “I’ve dreamed of you. There’s been hardly a moment when you’re not in my mind.”

Marco nuzzled the side of my neck as he said, “And when you wake up, I’ll be in your bed.”

“No, Marco, I’m in yours.”

“My bed or my dreams?”

I touched the hand that cupped my breast and knew the answer.

“Both.”

The rain began to fall again as Marco curled more tightly around me.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked.

“That I can’t stay.”

“Don’t spend today thinking about tomorrow.”

“Then what should I do?”

“Be here. Be with me now, not tomorrow in your dreams. Don’t waste this moment worrying about a day that may never come.”

I moved my arm over Marco’s and pulled him closer to me. He reached his other arm underneath me and cradled my head against his biceps. As I breathed in his scent I realized that I’d lied to Alfred when I said that Marco wasn’t a part of the picture. Compared to the arms that gently held me, my comments seemed cruel. Marco was much more than the ugly brown paper on the back of the frame. In fact, the more I was near him, the more he became a portrait all his own.

His body moved against my back with every breath. Part of me wanted to roll toward him and pull back the sheet. But the rest of me ached for sleep. The sleepy half won.

Chapter Seventeen

I awoke to Marco’s scent on my pillow and stretched out on my stomach across the silky sheets with a sigh. The next thing I was aware of was a clipping sound and something tugging at my back. Then I remembered where I was.

“Marco?”

“It’s all right. I’m removing your stitches,” he answered from behind me.

For a moment I was so lost in the deep rumble of his sleepy voice that what he said didn’t quite register.

“But they can’t possibly be healed,” I said finally. “What time is it?”

“Monday.”

That got my attention. My last memory was of Saturday afternoon. I sat up quickly, clutching the sheet to my chest. Surely Marco was kidding. It was still dark outside.

“I wasn’t finished,” he said, moving around behind me again.

“Is it really Monday?”

“It’s early, but yes, it’s Monday.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Marco who was still intently working on removing my stitches. He didn’t look like he was kidding.

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Because you needed the rest in order to heal. How long does it normally take you to recover from wounds like these?”

“A week, maybe.”

“Well, it’s been a day and a half.” He sighed. “In another day or so, there won’t even be a scar. Told you I was good for something.” He winked.

Marco took the small scissors he’d been using as well as the thread he’d clipped from my back and went into the bathroom. To my disappointment, he was wearing pajama pants and a robe. I would rather have seen him naked, even if that wasn’t such a good idea.

When he went back into the bathroom I followed, wanting to take a look at my back. Marco replaced the scissors to the first aid kit and threw away the stitches while I turned to the mirror and stared over my shoulder in amazement. Where I should have had angry red marks on my back, there were only thin faintly pink lines.

As I looked at the rest of my reflection more closely, I realized that I looked exactly like the picture Marco had painted of me. My head was turned slightly toward the mirror in order to see my back, and I still clutched the red sheet to my chest. My hair was tousled from sleep. Some was swept upward, some down. The only things out of place were the faint marks on my back. But in this picture, Marco could be seen clearly in the background. When I turned to him I could tell by his expression that he saw it, too.

“I should go,” I said.

“You can leave if you want, but you’re still out of power,” Marco said as he took a seat on the edge of the tub.

“How do you know that?”

“I sent someone to check. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I knew that leaving would be your first thought.”

I suddenly felt sorry for Marco. I was being rude and ungrateful and it made me feel bad. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt him, which should have been my first priority. Complicated was not an adequate word. He had been kind to me when he didn’t have to be and all I had done was ask what time it was. It hit me then just how terrible that repeated question must have made him feel. It wasn’t that I was so eager to leave him, but the longer I stayed the more I wanted to be there. I knew that I couldn’t stay with Marco forever. The sooner I left the sooner my life could return to normal. But I felt I owed him an apology for the way I had acted.

“I’m sorry, Marco. I’m grateful for you letting me stay here and taking care of me, but I can’t stay.”

“What’s so pressing that you have to get back to? No damage was done to your house. There’s some cleaning to be done in your yards, according to Luther, but nothing major.”

“What exactly are you getting at?”

“You’re alone right now, and so am I. In a week I’ll be leaving for the hearing.”

“But, Marco I can’t—”

“Let me finish. The hearing will take place two weeks from today.”

He moved toward me and took my small hand in both of his. I could feel the strength in the hands that so tenderly caressed my knuckles, and I sensed how much effort it took for Marco to maintain his composure.

“Stay the week with me, Lilith. For all I know, I might not return.”

He must have seen my hesitation, but before I could respond he continued, “I’m not asking to change your life ... just stay a little longer.”

What Marco didn’t realize was that the more I was near him, my life was changed. That was the first time I’d ever heard Marco use my real name. That gesture alone told me how very serious he was.

“But what will we do for a week?”

His wicked smile returned and I regretted my choice of words.

“You can get to know me with all of my clothes on.”

“What if anyone tries to call me? What about Kat?”

“I sent her a note. Luther dropped it off yesterday. I let her know that you could be reached here if she needed you.”

“You presumptuous bastard.”

Marco held up his hands in a gesture meant to look innocent as he said, “I didn’t say for how long.”

I sighed. “So what now?”

“It’s three o’clock in the morning, so now I’m going to bed.”

He walked toward the door.

“Since you’ve had more sleep than I have, you’re welcome to watch television.”

“I think I’ll have a shower first.

He shrugged. “Suit yourself, but can I have the sheet back?”

I started to refuse but then I thought what the hell? He’d seen it all before. Besides, the look he gave me was definitely a challenge. Marco didn’t think I’d strip naked and hand him the sheet. I wanted to prove him wrong, but I didn’t feel like putting on a show for him. I turned my back and began to walk over to where Marco’s robe hung by the shower. With every step, I let the sheet slide farther down my body. There was only the briefest pause before I snatched his robe around me. By the time I turned back to face him, I was completely covered. Marco collected the sheet from the floor with a smile and left the room.

After a minute or two I decided that I’d prefer a bath.

“Marco, are you asleep?”

“Yes, I have a terrible habit of talking in my sleep.”

“Where do you keep the bubble bath?”

There was a pause before he answered with a growl, “What makes you think that a werewolf has bubble bath?”

I walked back into the bedroom and found Marco sprawled across the bed facing me. I crossed my arms underneath my breasts and just looked at him for a minute.

He sighed. “It’s under the sink.”

I took the two steps up to where he was spread-eagled on his stomach across the mattress and kissed his cheek.

“I won’t tell anybody.” I smiled.

“Bitch.” He growled as he snatched a pillow from the foot of the bed.

I started filling the large marble tub and located the bubble bath. Not only did Marco have bubble bath, he had several different scents. I chose vanilla and poured some underneath the running water.

When I walked back through the bedroom Marco had rolled to his back. The even rhythm of his breathing told me he was asleep. I took the lighter from the bedside table and lit the vanilla candles which sat in various places around the bathroom. I turned off the light, slipped off the robe, and stepped into the bubbles. I had just closed the thin red curtain when Marco appeared in the doorway.

“Sorry, I meant to close the door.”

He walked forward with a grace that only an animal of prey can possess and stopped just short of touching the tub.

“You didn’t wake me,” he said softly.

He brushed his face across the silk curtain and breathed deeply.

“You’ve chosen my favorite scent.”

“And that woke you?”

“No.” He looked back at me.

Images could be seen through the red curtain, though with a soft glow thanks to the candlelight. Marco could see me, but not as clearly as he could if I had not closed the curtain. He looked more dangerous than I’d ever seen him. His hair was ruffled where he’d tossed and turned on the bed, and his robe hung open to reveal his magnificent body. Through the red curtain and his pajamas I could still see that he was aroused.

My heart felt like it was in my throat as I finally said, “Then what’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep.” His voice had taken on an edge I’d never heard before.

“If I stay here—”

“I know. I’ll keep my distance.”

His words sounded like he was going back to bed, but he didn’t move.

“I’d really like to get to know you,” I began. “But I can’t do that if you keep giving me that come on look.”

“This is my natural look.”

He smiled slightly and his eyes bled to amber.

“Marco, you have to stop.”

“Is that what you want? Be careful how you answer, Red, because I can smell a lie.”

“You can smell a lie?”

“There are subtle changes to someone’s body chemistry when they lie. Some people sweat, others make nervous gestures.” He knelt in front of the tub and leaned in to touch the curtain with his face. “And in some people like yourself, their heart beats faster ... and I can hear it.”

“You can hear my heartbeat?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “I hear the way it hammers against your ribs every time I’m near you. It flutters now, like a small bird in a cage.”

I took an involuntary move toward him.

“I’ll ask you again, Red. Is that what you want?”

“No.”

He growled and I nearly pulled him through the curtain.

“Marco, I can’t. Please don’t think that I’m rejecting you, I just can’t. There are so many things that it would mean if I slept with you.”

“Why would it have to mean those things? You know only three percent of our DNA separates us from what you see on the Discovery Channel.”

“Because I mean something to you, and you’re not just an animal.”

My response seemed to melt something inside of him. Marco’s eyes faded back to chocolate brown and he rested his face dejectedly against his hands.

After a minute, I began to worry.

“Marco, are you crying?”

“No. I’m having an allergic reaction to compassion,” he growled sarcastically.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re the first person in years to see me as anything more than an animal.”

“I think you’re a lot more, but if you don’t tone down the hormones, I’ll never be able to know for sure.”

He laughed, but not like he was really amused.

“I’m sorry. I usually have much more control than this, but the full moon is only a week away.” He looked back to me. “And I’m horny.”

“My, you have a way with words.”

This time the laugh sounded genuine.

“Are you always like this before a full moon?” I asked.

“Aren’t you?”

I thought it over for a moment and realized that my sex drive did seem to increase just before the full moon.

“Yes. How do you expect me to stay here with you the week before the full moon?”

“I could sleep on the couch,” he offered, sounding defeated.

“No, don’t do that.”

He turned back to me expectantly and I wished I’d chosen my words more carefully.

“Part of the reason that I agreed to stay is my bizarre desire to be close to you. If you sleep on the couch, that would defeat the purpose. Besides, touching you seems to calm me down.”

“I could touch you now,” he growled.

“Damn it.”

“Yes,” he agreed.

“I want you so much it hurts,” I confessed.

He leaned into the curtain and his eyes turned amber once more. “Let me ease your pain, Red.”

“But, I—”

“Please. It’s killing me to not touch you,” he begged as his ears began to grow to a point and his voice deepened.

Marco’s partial transformation should have frightened me, but it had the opposite effect.

“I’ll keep my pants on,” he promised. “But God knows, Red, we both need some kind of relief.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I’ll preserve your dignity,” he panted. “Nothing will have changed in the morning, just let me touch you.”

“But, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t be, just give me the word,” he growled.

“What word is that?”

“Whatever you’d like it to be, take your pick.”

“Would you like to join me?”

That was all it took. Before I could blink twice the curtain was parted and Marco was in the tub with me. He crawled forward on all fours through the bubbles and I realized that I had backed as far away from him as possible. He looked wild. Marco was a fierce and untamed creature, but he didn’t belong in a cage. He was beautiful and terrifying all at once and I was torn between ripping away his pajamas and screaming.

He knelt before me and placed his hands on my shoulders. I was trembling, but not with fear.

“I won’t hurt you, Red.” His rough voice whispered against my ear. “Don’t be afraid of me.”

I touched his face and through that touch I knew the amount of control it took to resist tearing me apart. My heartbeat grew more frantic and it excited him.

“Let me touch you, Red. The faster your heartbeat becomes, the more you look like lunch to me.”

“You want to eat me?”

“You have no idea.”

He leaned in close. His breath was hot against my lips as he said, “I’ll be gentle.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and Marco pressed himself against me with a growl. He kissed me softly and I moaned. I wanted more. I pulled the wet robe back from his shoulders and he slid it the rest of the way down, never taking his lips from mine. The kiss was hungry and desperate, but not quite the violence that I knew he was capable of. His tongue twirled around mine in a dance that made my toes curl.

Marco pulled back enough to look into my eyes. “Do you trust me?” he gasped.

I looked into his amber wolf eyes and whispered, “Yes.”

Without further hesitation he parted my thighs and slid between them. I cried out as he pressed against my aching pussy.

“Shh,” he whispered softly as he licked the pulse in my throat.

Marco was hot beneath the thin wet silk of his pants and so hard he could have broken pavement. He bit gently on my lower lip as he began to move against me. I growled and wrapped my legs around him, sending water splashing over the sides of the tub. He braced one hand on the tub and one hand underneath me as he began to grind his hips against mine. As he moved against my clit with only the thin silk between us, Marco found the right spot and applied pressure.

When the right spot gets hit, I am anything but quiet. I growled and tried to claw my way through his back as he fought to hold me. The rotation of his hips grew faster and I clung to him.

Orgasm rocked my body and I screamed. I tore his shoulders with my nails and I tore the curtain down. But Marco didn’t stop. He eased up, making the contact more gentle, but still moving slowly, caressing all the right places.

As I kissed him deeply I could feel him growing fangs.

“Don’t stop,” I whispered urgently.

I bit the delicate skin of his throat and he growled.

“Easy, Red. Don’t finish me yet.”

When I looked into his eyes, I saw a genuine desire to please me. I brushed my fingers lightly across his nipple and I knew that my eyes had bled to amber. He growled his desire in response to my touch and pressed himself more firmly against me. At any moment I expected him to rip through the front of those wet pants and I wouldn’t have objected. My desire was blind and for a moment so was I. My body bucked and swayed as Marco held onto me, rotating his hips ever faster. I screamed his name and that was all it took. Marco had reached his limit. I cried out as he howled his release.

For several minutes I couldn’t move and would have most likely drowned if Marco had not held me. My breathing was so fast that I thought my heart would explode through my chest. Marco pressed a trembling kiss against my throat and sat back, sliding me gently onto his lap. I rested my head against his collarbone, but didn’t have the strength to hold him. My body still shook slightly and I was starting to see spots.

“Are you all right, Red?”

I breathed deeply but found I couldn’t speak for several moments.

“Red?” he asked again a bit more urgently.

“Yes,” I gasped. That one word was all I could manage.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

He cradled the back of my neck in his hand and tilted my head back enough to look at me. The smile that spread across his handsome features was one of the sexiest things I’d ever seen. It was a smile that was purely male and completely sexual. That smile said in no uncertain terms that he rang my bell, and he knew it.

“Was it good for you?” he drawled.

I smiled and it took more effort than it should have.

“I had no idea,” I breathed.

“You still don’t.”

He was right. If just that contact had left me this weak, what would actual penetration have done? I wanted to know, but I was afraid I couldn’t handle it.

“Can you sit up?” he asked.

I shook my head.

He smiled again and his deep rumbling laugh raised the hairs on my arm.

“You’re welcome,” he said as he rose to his feet with me still in his arms.

Water cascaded down our bodies as Marco took a step out of the tub. He sat down on the edge with me in his lap and picked up the robe from the floor with his toes. I wished that I could have offered some help, but I felt like I’d been given a tranquilizer. He wrapped me in the soft dark robe and attempted to stand me up. I propped against Marco for support as he slipped out of the wet pajama pants. I could hear the damp fabric sliding down his legs, but I didn’t have the energy to open my eyes.

Marco scooped me up once more and carried me to the bed.

He leaned over me and whispered, “I’m going to take a quick shower.”

I thought then that perhaps spending the week with Marco wasn’t such a bad idea after all. I sighed deeply and felt like I had never taken such deep breaths before. My mind drifted in and out of consciousness as I heard Marco turn on the shower.

The next thing I knew he was curled up behind me and it felt as if my heart had finally decided on a normal rhythm.

“I feel ... strange,” I mumbled.

“Come here,” he said, rolling me to face him. He was still between me and the door.

“Tell me how you feel.” Marco positioned me so that my head rested against his shoulder.

“Weak, drugged. Alive, but nearly dead.” I sighed again. “I can’t move, but I don’t really want to. I’ve never felt like this before.”

“It’s called satisfaction,” he said and I could hear the same feeling in his voice.

“Are you satisfied?” I asked.

“Oh, yes.”

“Then why can you walk and I can’t?”

“Because I didn’t have two orgasms.”

“Three.”

He laughed that sexy, evil laugh again as he responded, “Never underestimate what a good pair of shoes can do for you.”

“I don’t have any shoes that can do that.” I yawned.

When I thought about it, I realized I’d never even had any boyfriends that could do that. I laughed to myself at the thought of telling Bradley that he had never satisfied me. I was no stranger to multiple orgasms, but nothing I had ever experienced compared to what just happened with Marco.

“What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking about this jerk I dated a while back. I’d love to tell that stupid son of a bitch that he never satisfied me.”

Marco laughed. “Really? I almost feel sorry for the guy.”

“Don’t. Miserable assholes like him don’t deserve your pity.”

“Ouch. You vicious thing,” he teased.

“I’m not that bad. I just think he ought to know he’s not half as good as he thinks he is.”

“Red?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re rambling. Go to sleep.”

Marco kissed the top of my head and as if by command, that’s exactly what I did.

When I woke up several hours later, Marco was sprawled flat on his back and I was stretched out on top of him. This was my first opportunity to watch Marco sleep and I took advantage of it. His long, dark lashes fluttered slightly as if he were dreaming. My body rose and fell with his breathing as I traced every contour of his face with my eyes. I didn’t know what tomorrow might bring, but he was right. I shouldn’t spend today worrying about it.

Part of my brain kept trying to remind me of Alfred, but Alfred had no place here. Yes, I loved him, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel guilty for what had happened with Marco the night before. Nothing was set in stone between Alfred and me and I had wanted Marco since the first moment I’d laid eyes on him. There was so much I wanted to do to him that I had not done. So many roads that I could have taken last night. I think we both knew that we’d chosen the lesser of an abundance of evils. I was still unsure of my feelings for Marco, but I knew then that I definitely had them.

I rubbed my face across the soft hair on his chest and sighed contentedly. In that moment, there was nothing else. As Marco had suggested, I simply let myself be with him. My mind stopped wandering and my restless heart found a steady rhythm.

“Good morning, Red.”

Marco’s voice was rougher than usual when he first woke up and I found it even sexier than before.

“Good morning,” I purred, sliding farther up his body so that I could reach his neck.

My favorite spot was just beneath his earlobe and I snuggled there for a minute. I took a deep breath and started to drift off again.

“What’s the matter, don’t you want to know what time it is?”

“Shh.”

“Well.” He laughed. “The nerve.”

I wrapped my right arm around his neck as I snuggled my face against his throat.

“Shut up, Marco. Don’t ruin a perfectly good moment.”

He laughed and rolled me over so that I was underneath him.

“You little bitch.” He laid his head against my shoulder, nearly covering me with his body as he put one arm across me. “I guess that’s how it goes. You satisfy a woman once and she thinks she can order you around. No wait ... you treated me that way before.”

“Get over yourself.”

“I get the distinct impression that you’re trying to shut me up.” I could hear the laughter in his voice.

“You’re very perceptive.”

He lifted up and made a pitiful face. “Why don’t you want to talk to me, Red?”

I shoved his head playfully back down as I answered, “Because the more you talk to me the more I have to think and the more I think, the closer I am to being awake.”

“What are you doing now? Sleep talking?”

I growled and snatched a few of his chest hairs.

He yelped. “Hey, that’s going below the belt.”

“Marco, don’t make me think about what’s below your belt.”

“Too late. I know that expression, Red. You’ve got your mind in my pants again.”

“Damn you.”

“You want to take a shower with me?”

I just looked at him.

“I’m kidding. I won’t attack you. I know you didn’t agree to stay just to get your hands on me. You said you wanted to know me and I was serious when I invited you to stay to do that.”

As he slid to a sitting position, I noticed the wicked nail marks down both of his shoulders.

“Oh my, God.” I reached out to touch one of the vicious marks.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He smiled. “Besides, I enjoyed it.”

“You enjoyed being torn up like this?”

He just laughed as I continued to stare at the marks.

“I can’t believe I did this. I’ve never clawed anyone up like this before. Marco, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He winked at me as he said, “You’re an animal, Red. You just needed someone to bring it out of you.”

“Does it hurt?”

“I’ve had worse.” He smiled as he slid off the bed.

I waited until I heard him get in the shower before going in the bathroom.

“What am I going to wear?” I asked.

“What’s the matter? You don’t like my pjs?”

I laughed as I remembered I had a spare outfit in the trunk. I carried a pair of old torn jeans and a black baby doll style t-shirt with me just in case.

“I don’t have a problem with your pjs, Marco. But if anyone else is going to see me, I’ve got some jeans in the trunk of my car.”

“Would you mind getting me a towel?”

I walked over to the built-in linen cabinet and selected a fluffy black towel. Marco turned off the water and asked, “Well, aren’t you going to hand it to me?”

I stepped in the door and stretched my hand in one direction and my head in another.

He laughed. “What’s the matter, Red? You act like you haven’t seen it before.”

“I haven’t.”

“Come again?”

“Don’t say things like that to me, Marco.”

“I would have thought you got a good look last night,” he teased.

“Well, I didn’t. By the time you took your pants off I was too exhausted to open my eyes.”

“Well, you can look now, I’m decent.”

The long black towel that would have covered me completely hung to just below Marco’s knees. One muscular thigh peeked from beneath the towel when he moved toward me. He had secured the cloth just below the chiseled curve of his hip that I had developed a fascination with.

“You’re covered anyway,” I said with a smirk.

Marco stepped toward me and wrapped one arm around my waist, resting his hand in the small of my back. He was warm and wet from the shower and I wanted to lick the beads of water from his skin. He kissed me softly. His lips were warm and soft, and wet. I sucked the moisture from his lower lip and shuddered when a low growl escaped his throat. I deepened the kiss and pulled him down to me.

Marco placed his hands underneath my butt and lifted me. I wrapped my legs around him and he pressed me against the tile. I was still wearing Marco’s robe and it parted along with my thighs.

Only the soft black towel stood between us, and that was slipping.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” I panted as I ran my fingers through his wet hair.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be busy most of the week.”

“Good, because I can’t keep my hands off you.”

I squeezed him more tightly between my thighs and ran one hand down the hot wet skin of his back. I was on the verge of snatching the towel loose when the phone rang. Until then, I hadn’t even been aware that Marco had a phone.

“That’s probably Luther,” he said, nuzzling against my throat.

“What’s he want?”

Marco lowered me to the floor slowly with one hand carefully holding the towel in place.

“Breakfast, I expect.”

“He’s coming for breakfast?”

“He’s already here.” Marco was on his way to the phone even though it had stopped ringing.

“What do you mean he’s already here?”

“He lives on the second floor.”

Marco walked to the bedside table nearest the bathroom, picked up the phone and called Luther. After a brief conversation that I couldn’t hear all of, he glanced back over his shoulder at me and told Luther, “Give us ten minutes.”

We got dressed in silence. I put on another pair of Marco’s pajamas. This time they were black. Like before, I had to roll the top of the pants down and the legs up to keep from tripping. The shirt fit me more like a robe. I left most of the bottom buttons open to once again reveal the unscarred portion of my lower abdomen. It was then that I realized that I’d never been self-conscious about my scars around Marco. I guess I just didn’t see the point in being afraid of looking monstrous to a man that until recently I’d thought was a monster. If anyone would understand what it felt like to be afraid of looking different, it was Marco.

He put on a white sleeveless undershirt that stretched nicely over his curves. I watched as he turned his back to me and dropped the towel. Unfortunately from where I stood, my view was blocked by the bed. I didn’t want to run to see his naked ass, so by the time I walked around the bed, he was zipping his jeans and looking for a belt. Oh well, the more I saw, the more I’d want to touch. Some of my disappointment must have shown on my face.

“What’s wrong, Red?”

“Huh?”

Marco’s knowing smile made me blush so hard it burned.

“You should have looked when you had the chance.”

My gaze traveled up and down his body. I didn’t bother to be polite. I let myself take in with my eyes all the places that my hands didn’t need to go. Even in faded jeans and an undershirt Marco was still one of the sexiest men I’d ever seen. The shirt left his muscular arms bare, revealing not only what great shape he was in, but the claw marks I’d left down his arms. Where the shirt dipped in the front around the neck I could see his collar bone as well as a distinctive bite mark.

I stepped forward to admire my handiwork and began to ruffle his hair. Marco leaned forward and let me have my way with his shaggy mane. He normally kept his dark hair cut close and neat, but he’d been busy lately and a werewolf’s hair grows fast. It wasn’t long or to the point of being unkempt, just enough to get a nice handful.

I scratched behind his ear and he growled.

“Did I hit the spot?” I laughed.

He growled again before snapping at my hand playfully and saying, “Luther will be here any minute.”

I watched as he opened the door and began to pad barefoot across the open loft to the kitchen. Those faded jeans clung to every curve of his long muscular legs like a second skin. The situation seemed more intimate somehow with his feet being bare. To go without shoes in someone else’s presence suggested a level of comfort that normally took a while to develop, at least for me.

Chapter Eighteen

When I saw the top of Luther’s blond head emerging from the staircase I said, “I thought no one knew how to get up here.”

Luther smiled. “He just told me this morning.”

Marco motioned for us to have a seat at the large table near the back of the kitchen.

“What do you feel like?” Marco asked as he opened the refrigerator.

“Bacon,” Luther said instantly.

Marco looked to me and I answered, “Fruit.”

They both gave me a questioning look.

“I don’t often feel like meat this early in the day,” I explained.

Marco bit his lip to keep from laughing and Luther seemed to have just noticed the many claw marks on Marco’s body. Truthfully, I hadn’t realized what damage I’d done until I saw him standing there in the early morning sun. The marks would likely be healed by the next day, but until then he would wear them. As I looked at Marco standing there in the kitchen, I couldn’t help but admire what a piece of work he was.

His natural tan seemed to stand out even more against the white of the undershirt he wore. The way his hair was tossed about so carelessly made him look wild. I reminded myself that morning that I was looking at a gentle version of what could potentially become a beast. But what I saw that day was definitely the beauty. It turned me on to see the marks I’d left on his skin, but it also made me sad to have marred his perfection. Part of me wanted to finish the job, but the other part just wanted breakfast.

Before I had much time to elaborate on the fantasy Luther couldn’t hold his peace any longer.

“Did you guys hear anything last night?” He winked at me and I could have strangled him.

“No,” Marco answered, careful to keep his back turned.

“Well, from downstairs it sounded like there was a wild animal up here.”

Marco sat a pitcher of juice on the table as he responded with a smile, “Well, I didn’t hear anything.”

Luther couldn’t seem to control himself any longer, “Then what happened to you?”

Marco absently rubbed the bite mark near his throat as he responded, “I cut myself shaving.” He raised one eyebrow as if challenging Luther to say otherwise.

Luther poured himself some juice with a muffled laugh, but he didn’t comment further.

As I went back to watching Marco cook breakfast, I knew what I was hungry for and it wasn’t fruit. Luther got down some plates from the cabinets. The way he kept looking at me let me know he had something else to say.

After breakfast was on the table Marco said, “Will you two excuse me for a minute? I need to make a phone call.”

He left in the direction of the bedroom and had barely closed the door before Luther turned to me. “Damn, Mercury.”

“What Luther? I know you want to say something, so let’s have it before I wake up enough to get pissed off.”

“If I’d had any idea what a wildcat you were, I’d have asked you out in high school.”

“And what makes you think I’d have said yes?” I teased.

Luther ran his fingers through his long hair dramatically and said, “Because I’m so sexy.”

I laughed so hard I nearly snorted juice up my nose. “It’s not like that, Luther.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Well, if you can resist Marco, you’d be the first, which I doubt.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He leaned in conspiratorially. “In case you haven’t noticed, he’s got ‘em lining up.” At my shocked expression he added, “Not that he’d take advantage, of course.”

Before I could comment Marco returned. “Sam will be here tomorrow.”

“Who’s Sam?” I asked.

“You’ll see. I think you’ll really like him.”

After breakfast Marco went downstairs with Luther. When I asked where they were going he informed me, “It’s business.” I’m sure he would have elaborated if I’d asked, but I didn’t. I had no idea what it took to run a club or a pack of werewolves and honestly didn’t want to know. I busied myself with yoga and playing video games in Marco’s bedroom.

Sometime in the wee hours of the morning I felt Marco crawl into bed beside me. Instinctively, I snuggled back against his warmth.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s all right.”

He started telling me how he’d spent the day ordering supplies for the club and handling disputes within the pack.

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” I mumbled sleepily as I rolled toward him.

“I know.”

Marco pulled me on top of him and I fell asleep.

*****

It wasn’t as difficult to keep my hands off Marco for the rest of the week as I’d expected. In fact I had very little opportunity to touch him at all. When he’d said he would be busy, he wasn’t kidding.

I decided that if he was expecting company, I should put on some shoes. Since the platform boots I’d worn to the club didn’t exactly go with my torn jeans and tight black t-shirt, I decided to go rummage in the trunk of my car for something more suitable and slipped on Marco’s shoes to go downstairs.

I was on the way to my car Tuesday morning to look for shoes when I heard the unmistakable rumble of a Harley Davidson motorcycle behind me. A man dressed all in black pulled up and parked right beside where I’d been clunking along in Marco’s slippers. As he stood up and swung one long leg over the bike I could see that he was tall. The man was well built and lean, slender, but not quite thin. When he took off his helmet I saw that he was also handsome.

He was older, possibly in his fifties, with chin length salt and pepper hair that looked wild even though he attempted to smooth it with his hands. He had a bushy mustache, a kind smile, and dark eyes.

I was glad that I’d changed into my jeans and t-shirt instead of Marco’s pajamas.

“Good morning.” His voice was deep, pleasant, and warm as whiskey.

I liked him instantly.

“You must be Lilith.” He extended his hand.

“And you must be Sam.” I smiled as I took his hand.

He had a nice firm handshake, not like some men who seem to be afraid of hurting a woman’s hand. I hated wimpy handshakes. They were just another way of saying that a man didn’t think of you as an equal. But Sam’s firm grip said he had no such hang-ups.

“Well no wonder Marco’s all worked up. I don’t reckon I blame him.” He smiled.

It surprised me to hear that Marco had discussed me with anyone. The fact that he would have mentioned me at all was flattering, but it also let me know how much he trusted Sam.

“He mentioned me?”

“More than once.” He winked.

The motorcycle matched Sam well, but he almost looked like he should have ridden in on a horse. After I got some flip-flops out of my car, we went inside where Marco met us.

They embraced each other like brothers.

“You’ve met?” Marco asked.

Sam smiled. “Yes, I’ve had the pleasure.”

They spoke briefly about it having been a long time since they’d last seen each other before Sam asked, “Is there some place I could wash up? I look like I’ve been rode hard and put up wet.”

“No,” I said, “but maybe you need to be.”

I had no idea what made me say that, but it was true. That rough and dusty motif looked good on Sam. The comment went over fairly well with him, but did not have the same effect on Marco.

“I like her.” Sam smiled at Marco.

“Which is why you’ll be staying with Luther,” Marco said as he put an arm around Sam and raised an eyebrow at me. “Let me show you to your room.”

Later that day I found out that Samuel James was a visiting alpha werewolf from Texas. He was the leader of the second largest wolf pack in the country, and Marco’s mentor.

“Who has the largest?” I asked about the pack.

Marco smiled wickedly. “Red, you should know that mine’s bigger.”

Sam laughed. “In this case at least, that’s right.”

“What does that mean exactly?” I asked.

“Darlin’ that means that if they’re not with us, they’re just strays.” Sam smiled.

The club was closed during the week, so we were sitting at a table downstairs near the bar. Other than the three of us, there were a few pack members there including the DJ that had gotten wasted at the hurricane party.

Sam looked in his direction. “Hey John, play somethin’ I like.”

Before long we were listening to country music. Not the new crap that sounds like it was written by a boy band, but the good stuff. I have always liked a variety of music, but you couldn’t grow up in the south and not be exposed to country. Even people who weren’t fans of the genre, like myself, still had their favorites. I couldn’t resist classic country.

“Do you dance darlin’?” Sam asked.

He winked at Marco and I assumed that was as close as he would come to asking permission.

“Stranger, you don’t know who you’re talking to,” I teased as I imitated his accent.

To my surprise he did a really nice two step and his waltz wasn’t bad either. Sam reminded me of a cowboy from an old western novel. He was polite and charismatic, but there was a bit of the devil behind his smile.

As we danced he asked, “So, what are your intentions with him?” He nodded toward Marco.

“Why do you care?”

“Because he’s been like a son to me, and I don’t wanna see him hurt.”

I was truly touched by what Sam had said. “That’s sweet, but I honestly can’t tell you my intentions, because I don’t know.”

He pulled back to look me in the eye. “Are you telling me you don’t have feelings for him? Darlin’ I’ve seen the way you look at him. That ain’t just a friendly smile.”

I was quiet for a few minutes as Sam spun me around and then pulled me close again.

“There’s someone else?” He made it a question.

“Yes.”

Sam glanced at Marco again. “Does he know?”

“Yes.”

He sighed. “Well, I don’t have the answers, sugar. But if you need to talk, you can trust me. There ain’t too many tricks this old dog ain’t seen.” He winked.

“Thanks, Sam.”

I kissed his cheek.

The purpose behind Sam’s visit was to listen to Marco’s ideas and help him prepare for the hearing. They spent most of Tuesday and Wednesday poring over the many law books in Marco’s office.

Even with the full moon approaching the sex that Marco normally radiated diminished as his anxiety increased. He was still his usual flirtatious self, but he didn’t actually make any more moves on me. I spent most of my time with Luther. We worked out, went shopping together, and reminisced about old times. My week wasn’t bad, but Tuesday and Wednesday I went to sleep alone and woke up in the early morning with Marco curled around me.

Thursday would be our last night together. Friday night was the full moon, and I was going home before then. He had invited me to the full moon gathering along with the pack, but I decided to pass. This was where he would say his farewell to the pack and leave Luther in charge until his return. I just didn’t think that I belonged there.

He looked so worried late Thursday afternoon as he was going over his notes that I had to intervene.

“Put these away,” I said, taking Marco’s notes from him.

“I’m sorry, Red. I didn’t invite you to stay just to be ignored. I forgot how much I had left to do.”

“Then why did you want me to stay?”

I got on my knees in front of him on the bed. Marco wrapped his arms around my waist and buried his face against my stomach.

“Thanks for staying, Red. You have no idea how much your presence has soothed me.” He sighed. “This was supposed to be where I showed you that I’m not such a bad guy, but you can’t get to know a man who’s never around.”

I ran my fingers through his thick dark hair as I said, “But I have. I’ve seen a responsible man who cares about other people.” I leaned down so that I could see his face. “You make the pack’s problems your problems and that’s very commendable. You’re far from the ravaging beast I expected.” I smiled.

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“That’s the problem, Marco. You’ve been anything but disappointing. You know that once Alfred comes back—”

“I know,” he interrupted as he flopped back onto the pillows. “I’m not asking to change your life remember? I just wanted you to have an opportunity to see the real me, not just judge me from what you’ve heard.”

“So what happens now?”

He sighed and scratched the stubble on his chin.

“Now you’ll go on with your life, and I’ll go on with mine ... and we’ll see where that takes us.”

His response eased my mind somewhat, but something still bothered me.

“Marco, I don’t want you to think that spending this time with you hasn’t meant something, because it has.”

He sighed again. “Red, I’m not asking you to make a choice now. Go back to your scientist. And if you’re happy, I’ll leave you alone.”

“But—”

“Don’t complicate things that need not be complicated.”

He was right and I decided to listen, at least for the time being. I helped Marco put away his notes and started to gather up my things for when I would leave the next day. He picked up some silver nail polish that had fallen out of my purse.

“Can I paint your toe nails?” He smiled seductively.

“Do you have a foot fetish, Marco?”

“Only for your feet.” He winked.

That’s right, The Big Bad Wolf very carefully and very skillfully painted my toenails. While I lay back with my feet in his lap I remembered something Luther had said.

“Marco, I want to ask you something.”

“Hmm?” He didn’t look up.

“Is it true you’ve got women lining up for a chance to sleep with you?”

He nearly spilled the polish.

“What? Red, who’ve you been talking to?”

“Luther.”

“Hmm, Luther exaggerates.”

He hadn’t answered my question. “Is it true?”

“Technically, yes. But if you’re trying to ask if I nail my pack members, the answer’s no.”

I sat back and crossed my arms.

“That was what you were asking, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it was.”

He bent back over my feet.

“Do you date?” I asked.

“Don’t you?”

“Are you seeing anyone now?”

“No, why?”

“Were you sleeping with Amy, the woman who attacked me?”

“No.” He looked up in frustration. “I am not, nor was I previously fucking any members of my pack. Happy?”

He had hardly touched the polish to my next toenail when I asked, “What about Sam’s pack?”

“Damn it, Red, I am not going to spend the night like this.”

“I’m sorry I just—”

“I’m saving myself for you, Red. Is that what you wanted to hear?” he growled.

“What?” I was stunned. Surely, he was being sarcastic.

“That’s right. My own pack mocks me. They say that I’ve been neutered.”

“But I thought they all thought that you and I were—”

“They do,” he growled.

Marco slid to the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“The last pack leader kept a harem ... Bade keeps a harem.”

He took a deep steadying breath before continuing in a much calmer tone of voice. “Natural wolves mate for life. I think it’s a disgrace to act like more of an animal than they do.”

I slid closer to Marco’s back, but was careful not to touch him.

“Does my touch soothe you?” I asked.

“Yes.”

It hurt me to see him like that. He was a bundle of nerves and I couldn’t blame him.

“Then let your mind be still,” I said softly as I lifted up and wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

Marco leaned back against me and closed his eyes. As if by instinct I suddenly knew how to calm him. I placed my hands over his chest. With every breath I felt his nervous tension flow into me, and I breathed it out. Several minutes passed and the raging beast from before lay completely gentle in my arms.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “If you hadn’t been here this week, I don’t think I could have made it.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“I’m scared, Red.”

That was something I’d never expected to hear from Marco. I wasn’t used to seeing him so real ... so human.

“What time do you leave for the hearing?”

“I’ve been given permission to use the transporter of a Hunter in Louisiana. Since this probably isn’t the best time to let them know that I built one in the basement of the club, I’ll be there first thing Saturday.”

“You know how to build a transporter?”

“I helped construct the one in your father’s office.” He smiled.

“So, you are capable of paying attention.”

“Once in a while.”

“Try to relax, Marco. Like you told me, worrying about tomorrow won’t change anything.”

“You’re right.” He sighed.

I had an idea. “Why don’t you tell me about what you’re going to say? I am part wizard. Try out your speech on me.”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea.”

Marco reached for his notes and I stopped him. “Without the notes.”

He looked worried for a second, but soon got his bearings. Over the next couple of hours I finally got to hear Marco’s point of view. No matter how I chose to look at things, either from the perspective of a Hunter, or the woman sitting on his bed, it made sense.

Marco was going to propose the enactment of what he called the werewolf code. It would be a very involved process, but the gist of it was that contracting lycanthropy would no longer carry an automatic death sentence. People who were contaminated accidentally through an attack, for example would not be punished for something that they had no control over. However, knowingly infecting another person with the disease would still mean death, so the Hunters would still be involved.

If Marco’s proposal was accepted everyone would be doing what I’d done all along, only hunting rogue werewolves.

“It would mean so much to be able to go out in public and openly be who I am without being killed for it.” He paced the room as he spoke.

“Marco, there are so many other things that this could set into motion,” I warned.

As he turned back to me the passion in his words could not be denied. “I know. But it would be a start to be able to walk down the street without wondering if people knew what was underneath this skin ... if they would kill me for it.”

“They might still kill you for it.”

“Yes, but they have to see the reasoning behind what I’m saying.”

I sighed as I hugged a pillow to my chest.

“I’m surprised it’s taken someone this long to suggest something like this.”

“It hasn’t,” he said. “Others have suggested something similar in the past.”

“Why was I never told?”

“Because it was stricken from the history books.”

“But how could they?! That’s misleading entire generations of people!”

“That’s wizards,” he said as he flopped down beside me.

“What happened to the other people, the ones with similar ideas?”

“They were most likely killed.”

My heart was suddenly in my throat. I couldn’t speak. The danger that Marco faced became very clear to me then and I better understood his anxiety. Yet again I was painfully reminded that the handsome man in front of me was not mine, but I didn’t know what I’d do if Marco didn’t come back.

“It’s all right, Red,” Marco whispered as he reached for me. “Too many people know what’s going on this time. I really don’t think they’ll kill me.” He brushed his fingers across my cheek gently. “But it’s nice to know that you care.”

“I never said I cared.”

“You didn’t have to.” He kissed me slowly and I tasted what I’d be missing.

“Besides it’s not the wizards that concern me most.”

“What then?”

“It’s Jacob Mercury.”

“What do you mean? My father’s not trying to kill you.”

He grinned. “Jacob would kill me for the thoughts that I have about his daughter.”

I watched as Marco turned out the light and crawled back into bed. He pulled me on top of him and I snuggled my face across the hair on his chest.

“Red?”

“Hmm?”

“When I make it back, can I hunt the rabbits in your woods?”

“What?” I laughed.

“You know the little fuzzy, bouncy things in the woods around your house. They’re everywhere.”

“Marco, I don’t care,” I snickered.

“Just so we’re clear, I’m not talking about using a shot gun.”

“I know.”

“I like to hunt on the full moon, after the gathering. Some of the pack members do the same, but I like to hunt alone.”

He looked down where I rested against his chest and his eyes glowed in the dark. “You sure you don’t mind me growing paws and running through your woods?”

“I’m sure.”

He took a deep breath and dislodged my resting place slightly. “What about Alfred?”

I looked up at him. “They’re my woods. I’ll handle Alfred.”

Within a few minutes Marco’s breathing grew steady and I knew he was asleep.

*****

Friday morning found us all in a very solemn mood. Marco and I got up early and had breakfast before he walked me downstairs and out to my car. Once I’d put my purse in the passenger seat I turned back to Marco, hugged him tightly, and breathed in the scent of the man I knew I’d be missing.

The sound of boots crunching on the gravel of the parking lot caught my attention and I turned to see Sam coming our way.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Marco said. “I’ve asked Sam to keep an eye on you while I’m gone. With me out of the way for a week or so and Luther busy, I’m afraid there are those that might try something stupid.”

The look in his eyes let me know that now was not the time to remind him that I could take care of myself. And truthfully, I didn’t mind. I decided instead to tell Marco the truth. If I never saw him again, I didn’t want him to think that that was all right with me.

“I’m gonna miss you.” I smiled.

“You know where to find me.”

“Get back to work, boy. I’ve got this.” Sam winked at me as he walked past my car to his bike.

I watched Marco in the rearview mirror while I drove away. He stood there till I was out of sight.

Even with the prospect of Sam to keep me company, leaving Marco was difficult. If Marco’s proposal for the enactment of the werewolf code was accepted, it had the potential to do three things. It could either promote peace among the human and lycanthrope communities. It could start an outright war. Or, it could trigger a combination of the two. Personally, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. Of course, I didn’t want a war. But, there was already a war raging inside of me. This particular battle had nothing to do with politics.

The man that I loved was far away, and not due to return for several more weeks. However, the man that I found myself drawn to would be back shortly. And as he’d pointed out, I knew where to find him. But, was Marco what I needed to find? That’s the question I kept asking myself. For so long it seemed, I’d been finding the wrong sort of man.

As my dreams continued to be filled with images of men I knew, there was one that I did not. A tall dark stranger, whose face was still a mystery. But, I am still a werewolf Hunter and until I hear differently, Marco is supposed to be my enemy. That leaves little room for thoughts of anything else. Someday, I might have to kill him, but my mind keeps taking me back to the night we danced.

THE END

Lilith Mercury’s story continues in book two of the Werewolf Hunter series, Object of My Affection.

OBJECT OF MY AFFECTION

By

Tracey H. Kitts

Chapter One

Someone told me once that life is not complicated, people just make it that way. I used to believe this was true. Marco Barak, leader of the local werewolf pack, had told me during my recent visit not to complicate things that need not be complicated. But the decisions I’d faced lately did not have easy solutions. Maybe I was over complicating things. Leaving Marco in the parking lot of club Red on a hot July morning was not easy for me. I’d just spent the last week of my life with a man that, until recently, I’d viewed as my enemy. I was having some difficulty reconciling the differences, but not as much as I should have. I’d enjoyed my time with Marco. Just that short while had opened my mind to new possibilities. However, finding I responded to him as an alpha werewolf frightened me.

Alfred, the man who should have been on my mind, was not due back for a few more weeks. I’d known Alfred since I was ten years old. As I matured, so did my feelings for him. In one way or another, I’d always loved him. He was gone at the moment on business to Terra. Alfred was helping to stage a protest along with my father. They were protesting the idea of werewolves being legally recognized as citizens again on planet Terra. This was also the reason Marco would be leaving planet Earth the following day. He would be presenting his proposal for the enactment of the werewolf code to The Wizard Council. If his ideas were accepted, it would no longer be a crime punishable by death to be infected with lycanthropy. I actually supported his ideas, but now was not the time for me to voice my opinion. My life had never been exactly perfect, but now it was downright complicated.

I looked in the rearview mirror at the handsome man in black following me on the motorcycle. His name was Samuel James and he was there at Marco’s request. Sam was the head of the second largest werewolf pack in the country, located in Texas. He’d also visited with Marco over the past week and helped him with his presentation to the council. Marco was afraid that in his absence, certain members of his pack might try to harm me. Actually, it was the female pack members he was concerned with. It seems they were not exactly happy about his intentions to make me his mate. Of course, I hadn’t accepted the position. But as Marco had said, the job was mine for the taking. And so was he. I’ll admit I was tempted. Who wouldn’t be? Marco was one of the sexiest men I’d ever seen. Spending the last week looking at his beautiful body had not exactly eased my mind.

I’d gone to club Red that weekend to avoid the boredom of spending another night alone. Kat had a new boyfriend who occupied all of her time, Alfred was out of town, and Elijah was busy. Of course I’d left with a hurricane on the way which wasn’t exactly bright. Thanks to hurricane Alistair smacking into the panhandle of Florida, Marco had invited me to spend the week with him. It was a convenient opportunity and we had both taken advantage. Now that it was over and Marco would shortly be gone, I knew I would miss him. His scent still lingered on my shirt where I’d hugged him goodbye. I pulled the material against my face as I drove and breathed him in.

Once we’d arrived at my house, Sam offered to help me clean up.

“The yards are a mess, Sam, but you don’t have to.”

“He asked me to keep an eye on you.” Sam smiled. “Might as well make myself useful.”

“Tell you what, Sam. Why don’t you spend the week with me?”

It would be another month before Alfred came back and having company would keep my mind off of worrying about all the men in my life. Besides, I liked Sam. He was tall, lean and muscular. His salt and pepper hair hung just above his shoulders, though he had it in a tight ponytail that day. There were creases around his eyes when he smiled which only added to his charm. Sam looked like he belonged more in an old western somewhere instead of my front yard. If there were such things as past lives, Sam had been a cowboy.

He smirked and it caused his mustache to twitch.

“Marco says you won’t even let him in the door.”

“There are other reasons for that.”

“You mean I won’t have to worry about you attacking me in my sleep? It’s a good damn thing too, cause I’m tired.”

I laughed and opened the door.

“Do you like coffee, Sam?”

“Darlin, half my blood is caffeine,” he said with a smile.

As we sat down to a nice cup of coffee Sam asked, “How come you would trust a stranger to come into your house?”

“Because you’re a good man, and I knew that when I shook your hand.”

In addition to being a werewolf Hunter, I’m also strongly empathic. When I touch other people, I’m able to feel whatever it is they feel. Through their more intense emotions, I can get pieces of imagery.

“Damn, I hate it when people figure that out.”

Before we started cleaning my yards, I hit play on the answering machine. There were several messages from Kat wanting, “details.” These made Sam smile, but when Elijah’s voice came on he paid attention. Elijah was just checking on me, but Sam still asked, “Who’s Elijah?”

“A local cop. A friend of mine.”

Actually, we’d been spending a lot of time together since Alfred had been out of town, but I didn’t think that was any of Sam’s business. Elijah was nothing short of adorable. He had dark blond hair with highlights that only stood out in direct sunlight, deep blue eyes, and a smile that could melt snow. He was a bit too sweet and innocent for my taste, but he also understood there was something between Alfred and I. Because of this, he hadn’t asked that we do more than just spend some time together. I was glad, because I enjoyed being with Elijah. Besides being good looking, he was easy to talk to.

Sam raised one eyebrow. “You got a thing for local bacon?”

“No, but he’s got a thing for me.”

“Who doesn’t? Darlin’ you’re popular.”

“And you’re an ass.”

“That’s one of my better qualities.”

Sam’s charming smile made it impossible for me to stay angry at his nosy questions.

Chapter Two

Once we both changed clothes, we went outside and started to clear limbs out of the back yard.

“This is going to take all week,” he said, wiping his brow.

He was most likely right, but my mind was on something else. Ever since I’d met Sam, I felt like I knew him.

“This is going to sound stupid, but have we met before?” I asked.

He stood up from where he’d been bent over one of my trellises that the wind had pulled out of the ground.

“No darlin’ I don’t reckon we have.”

“You know it’s really out of character for me to invite strange men to stay in my house.”

“They don’t come much stranger than me.” He winked as he straightened his back. “So, why’d you do it?”

“Because I feel like I know you. Ever since I saw you drive up ... there’s just something about you.”

“That’s what they all say,” he teased.

“You know that’s not what I meant. It feels like I’ve known you my whole life. It just seemed natural to ask you to stay here. I have no way of explaining it.”

“Do you always have to explain everything?”

“Well, yeah. It would make me feel better to have a nice, rational explanation to why I would want a strange man to stay alone with me in my house.”

Sam closed the short distance between us and placed his hand on my shoulder.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“No.”

In fact, Sam’s touch gave me one of the most laid back and peaceful feelings I’d ever experienced. It was the sort of touch that made you want to kick back and have a drink. He was comforting in a completely different way than any of the other men I knew.

“You’re related to a wizard, right?” I gave him a puzzled look and he explained, “Marco told me.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is I’ve known wizards before. It’s not unusual to feel the instant connection you felt with me. For some people, mostly those who are strongly psychic, they know if in the future they’ll be compatible with someone or not.”

“What do you mean exactly?”

He sighed and took a seat on a bench near the edge of my rose garden.

“It’s a form of clairvoyance, or at least that’s how it was explained to me. When you get that feeling like you’ve known someone for forever, but you know that’s not possible. It’s like you’re seein’ the future. Somethin’ in you knows that at some point you’ll know them that well. Does that make any sense to you?”

“Yeah, it does. How is it you know all of this and I don’t? Does everybody know more about wizards than I do?”

He smiled again. “Don’t feel bad. I only know because I had my heart broken years ago by a sorceress.” He stood up and stretched. “Along with a few other things,” he teased.

We spent most of the day just cleaning my rose garden. There were limbs down everywhere, but no real damage. With the help of my lawn mower and a trailer, we piled all of the limbs on the back side of my property near the woods.

“Maybe tonight we could have a bon fire,” Sam suggested.

“Why the hell would I want to do that when I could be sleeping?”

“You do realize you’ve invited a werewolf to stay with you on the night of the full moon?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

“Not really. I’ve been around werewolves all my life. Hell, I’m half wolf myself.”

“But I’d wager you’ve never seen one of your friends change?”

“No. Until recently I didn’t have any friends who were werewolves. I mean, I didn’t know about Luther and we grew up together.” I ran a hand through my sweaty, disheveled hair. “Why?”

“Because seeing those near and dear to you wolf out ain’t pretty. Trust me it’s different. It just is. You’ve never seen Marco change have you?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Well, don’t be surprised if it changes the way you look at him, at least for a while.”

I got quiet and Sam stepped closer.

“If you choose to stay in contact with him, you’ll get used to it eventually. But to someone who’s never taken on the beast, it’s quite a shock.”

“I’ve seen other people change. I’ve been seeing it for years.”

“Darlin’ I’m not asking what you feel, or any of the other things that are none of my business. But what do you think of him? He’s a nice looking man, and you’re attracted to him, am I right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s different. I know you know he’s a werewolf, but seein’ a beast tear himself out of that pretty boy face ain’t somethin’ that you’re gonna take lightly.”

Sam was probably right, but it was something I didn’t want to think about right then. I was tired, hungry, and desperately in need of a shower.

“Let’s get cleaned up,” I suggested.

“Good idea. I smell like a wet dog,” he said, laughing.

I didn’t point out the fact that he wasn’t far off.

Once we got back to the house, Sam took off in the direction of the guest room, and I went upstairs. I started to strip the minute the door closed behind me and left a trail of sweaty clothes across the floor. Normally I take a hot shower, but I was beyond overheated so I turned the water to a nice room temperature, almost cool. I had never been able to stand a completely cold shower. I leaned against the shower wall and nearly fell asleep where I stood. I had wondered after I left the club if I would be able to sleep without Marco around. At the moment, I didn’t foresee myself having any trouble.

*****

With my hair still wet, I padded barefoot downstairs. I’d snatched on a pair of black cotton pajama pants and a matching t-shirt. Yeah, it was a little sloppy, but I wasn’t trying to impress Sam. When I entered the kitchen I noticed I had another message. It was Kat, informing me she had called Marco and he said that I was at home and, “Why are you not answering the phone?!”

I deleted the message and decided to raid the fridge. I had missed Kat, but I was completely exhausted. I desperately needed to buy groceries, but hadn’t bothered to do so since before I left to visit Marco. To top that off, I’d ended up staying a week, so there was nothing in the house except processed meat, ice cream, and frozen fruit. Sam came in shortly after I’d made myself a turkey sandwich. He was barefoot, wearing a pair of torn up old jeans, and no shirt. I could tell from the first time I looked at Sam that he was still in good shape for his age, but I had no idea. Sam was in good shape for someone half his age.

The same salt and pepper hair that adorned his head formed a v-shaped pattern over his chest, slightly thicker than Marco’s. He had a thicker trial of hair running down his flat stomach as well, but was by no means too hairy. I’ve always liked a man with a hairy chest, just as long as they don’t have hair all over their back.

His arms were just as well toned as his abs, though he was not quite as muscular as Marco. He had his chin length hair pulled back in a ponytail. Stray hairs were beginning to escape and hung in long loose strands which framed his face. As I admired his body I understood why Marco had insisted that he stay with Luther during his visit. Sam was a very attractive man, but I didn’t want to jump him. That was bizarre and completely unexplainable to me too. I just liked Sam, and that was all there was to it. It was sort of like Luther and me. Yes, Luther was gorgeous, but when I looked at him, I didn’t see an object, I saw a friend of mine. Even though I hadn’t known Sam long, he was the kind of person you couldn’t help but think of as your friend.

“You hungry?” I asked.

“Thanks, but I’ll catch my dinner elsewhere tonight, if that’s all right with you.”

“Marco tells me there are some nice rabbits in the woods around here.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Sam and I shared a pitcher of iced tea before he rose to leave near dusk.

“Darlin’, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll be spending the rest of the evening outdoors.”

“All right.”

I wasn’t sure how exactly to respond, I’d never been around a werewolf on the full moon before. Well, one that I wasn’t trying to kill, anyway. Before Sam left the room I asked, “Should I make a point to stay inside tonight?”

He looked sad when he answered, “That won’t be necessary with me, but you might prefer not to see.” The expression on his face told me someone had had a very bad reaction to his transformation in the past. When I didn’t respond he continued, “An alpha werewolf has more control than some of the lesser wolves. At first no one really has control when they turn. Often times they black out completely until the next morning. But, over time you learn to make peace with the beast. And if you have the potential to become an alpha, you may even learn to control it. The point is, when I turn I’m still me, and I won’t hurt you.”

“I’ve never been afraid of you, Sam.” I meant it to be a comfort, but it seemed to bother him.

“If you saw me tonight, you might change your mind.”

I watched as Sam walked out of the kitchen and heard the front door close behind him. It was just as well that he was spending the night outside, because I was too tired to carry on much of a conversation.

It was barely dusk when I went upstairs and stretched out across the bed.

*****

Howls echoed through the night and I was startled awake. I rose from the bed and threw the balcony doors open wide. It was after midnight and the early morning air was cool and fresh against my face. Sam’s warning was still in my mind, but as I looked out over the woods I did not feel afraid. Somewhere out there was a werewolf, but I couldn’t bring myself to think of Sam as a monster. Just then a large silvery gray wolf emerged from the trees and stepped tentatively toward the house. He was huge. Though he looked like a natural wolf, he was nearly three times the size. The wolf continued forward until he was almost underneath my balcony, sat down, threw his head back, and howled.

“Hello, Sam,” I whispered.

We made eye contact, and for a minute I recognized Sam’s dark eyes before he turned and ran back into the woods. My heart beat faster, but it wasn’t exactly with fear. I don’t know if excited was the right way to describe recognizing someone’s eyes in a wolf’s face, but it was close enough.

He looked so sad. I didn’t know how I was supposed to react, and I wasn’t sure if Sam had been glad to see me, or disappointed that I didn’t listen to his warning. But, the hour was late and I was still tired. Without bothering to turn down the covers, I crawled back on the bed and tried to get comfortable again.

Once I was awake enough to be aware, I missed Marco something terrible. That was about the time of night I had been used to waking up and rolling over to touch his warm body. I hugged a pillow against my chest, but it just wasn’t the same. My grip on the pillow grew tighter and tighter. I yearned to be close to him again. My heart ached in a way I didn’t think was possible for someone I wasn’t in love with. I flopped to my back and looked at the phone beside the bed. The longer I lay there, the more tempted I was to call. But it was the full moon, he might not even be there, and tomorrow he would be gone.

I wanted Marco back, even if it was only for a night. But I couldn’t call. What would it say about me if I called him? We had mutually agreed to get on with our lives. No matter how many times I reminded myself of this, I still stared at the phone by the bed.

Finally I got up and took Mathias’ journal down from the shelf.

“If I ever needed words of wisdom, old man, it’s now,” I said as I opened the cover.

I turned the page and was once again confronted with an image of one of the most hauntingly beautiful men I’d ever seen. Beautiful may not be a very masculine way to describe a man, but it was the closest I could come to doing Mathias Alexander justice. He had been known as The Seducer. He was one of the most powerful wizards to have ever lived, and he was my great, great grandfather. His hair blazed like a captive flame in the faint moonlight streaming through the balcony door. The picture seemed alive in some way. The kindness in his eyes tugged at my heart and put a lump in my throat. I needed a shoulder to cry on, someone to tell me that everything would be all right. When I finally turned to the next page I found these words:

I cannot offer you my shoulder, but please believe that everything will be all right.

That was all it took. My emotions were already shaken and I started to cry. Before I could find a tissue more of his words began to appear as if being written by an invisible hand.

Do not cry, child. It would be wrong of me to tell you the future. I do not believe in interfering with fate. But if you will not take the word of a wizard with the gift of sight, then who will you believe?

I understand what you are feeling, because I have seen it. I have also seen your frustration at hearing me say that, but it is true. However, you are thinking, “Why did he not warn me about this?” And I say to you, I did.

Do not try to analyze things too much. As someone has recently told you, “Do not complicate things that need not be complicated.” Yes, I know where you were this past week. Do not blush, I am a very old wizard, and there is little that I have not been exposed to.

Never be embarrassed to turn to me. As I have said before, I do not have all the answers. I am merely offering advice that may be of some comfort to you. You are thinking that you haven’t really accomplished anything by reading this journal again, but you have.

You are already less anxious than you were when your fingers first touched these pages. The future will unfold before you like a wild rose blooming in the spring. They do not need your care, or your time, and whether you notice them or not, they still grow.

“What the hell does that mean?” I asked.

As much not being given a straight answer bothered me, Mathias was right. I did feel much better than when I’d first picked up the journal. I wondered how I would ever manage to get to sleep and I saw one last response: Close your eyes.

“Smartass,” I mumbled as I put the book back on the shelf.

Mathias Alexander’s enchanted journal came to me through an unlikely source. Marco passed it along during one of my visits to his club. He found it the year before in an old bookstore in London. Since the journal was enchanted, Mathias used it to instruct Marco to deliver the book to me. Marco was able to read the journal like a diary, telling him Mathias’ day to day life, but the teachings my wizard ancestor longed to pass down were only seen by me. Mathias made sure of that.

I decided the only way I would ever still my mind enough to rest was to meditate. I lay flat on my back, adjusted the pillow as best I could and began to breathe deeply and evenly. Once my heart began to beat more slowly, I started the visualization exercise Mathias had taught me.

A staircase stood before me. I saw along this staircase many colors that stretched upward and wrapped around the steps. The staircase I visualized looked very much like the stone steps leading down to Alfred’s lab, and the dungeon. As I approached the first step I looked down, and through my mind’s eye saw my right foot with the dragonfly tattoo on the big toe. This was my way of visualizing me without detaching myself from the surroundings.

The lower portion of the staircase was surrounded in a beautiful, almost jewel like red. I stepped into this red and let it embrace me. I breathed in the color and let my anger and frustration flow out of me. It took several deep breaths before I felt calm enough to continue.

The red faded into a beautiful orange that I passed through next, followed by a magnificent sunshine yellow that I stopped to breathe in as well. I let the bright and cheerful color fill my heart and breathed out my anxiety. The yellow became a green that spilled over into a blue and from there a glorious purple. By the time I had reached the purple I felt as if I were floating instead of ascending a staircase. The purple gave way to a blinding white, beyond which there was a garden. This was my safe place, the place in my mind I went to in order to practice my skills, to release my worries, and if possible, heal my heart.

The garden was awe inspiringly lush and vibrant. The plants never stopped growing. Flowers bloomed before my eyes as if in fast motion, and vines continued to spread while I walked across them. The colors were the most vivid I’d ever seen but in particular I remembered the roses. Here I always took the time to stop and smell them in all their glory. Surrounded by a tangle of beautiful pink roses and vines was a door. This door was silver and ornate as the door to my dungeon, but it was always locked. In order to gain entrance to this particular door, I had to let go of the last of my worries, the ones that no amount of deep breathing could take away.

I looked down and beside the door there was a box. This box was also covered in wonderful carvings and had the look of silver. I sat in front of the box and opened the lid. Inside I saw what looked like a reflection of a clear night sky. There were stars and comets, planets and moons. It looked as if the entire universe had been fitted to the inside of that box. If it could hold the universe, it could hold my problems. I visualized an object to represent each of the things that troubled me and placed them in the box. The first thing that appeared was a picture, almost like a snapshot of Marco in his red pajamas, and I put it in the box. The next was a picture of Alfred looking very upset.

Next was my father, then Elijah, and Kat. This went on for a while with everything from my bathroom scale to a paintbrush appearing before me. Miraculously the small box held them all including the next object, Mathias’ journal. I was tired of worrying about what he meant when he warned me to be careful who I loved. I wanted to be free to love whomever I chose without worrying about what meaning it would have. Even as I thought this I knew I could try as much as I wanted, but I could never change what I felt, nor could I dictate to myself what was appropriate for me to feel. In spite of all of that, the last object I placed into the box was a picture of a heart. Not the real kind, but a valentine version, fitted together like a puzzle. The pieces still held, but they had obviously been separate at one time.

When everything that was on my mind had at last been placed inside the box, I closed the lid. I reopened the box and saw only the reflection of a beautiful clear night. My problems were gone, at least for now. I looked back up to the door and a key appeared in the lock. As I opened the door and stepped inside, I always put the key on a small table near the door. But it never stayed there. In this room I had created a place for myself to cope with whatever might come my way. The room always contained whatever I needed to be there. One thing that was always there was a comfortable couch just to the left of the door. There was also a fountain that gently splashed near the end of the couch and tall bamboo plants in every corner.

I approached the small table near the sofa. This table had many layers and among the layers were many bottles. I selected the one labeled, “sweet dreams.” But before I could open the bottle I heard Mathias’ voice in my mind.

“There is a bottle on the shelf below that may be of more use to you,” he said.

I picked up a small bottle shaped like a tear drop and read the label. The Desires of Your Heart.

I held the bottle for a moment and wondered if I really wanted to know the desires of my heart. What would knowing such a thing accomplish except to confuse me further? I was afraid that if I knew the desires of my heart it might shape my reality in a way that would not have previously been. To put it bluntly, I was afraid it might be screwing with fate. I believe things happen for a reason, and there is no such thing as coincidence. Therefore, fate should be left alone.

“But is it not fate that I would bring this to your attention now?” Mathias’ voice floated through my head again.

He was the only one capable of visiting me when I went to that place in my mind. I think it was because he showed me how to get there. He was very specific in his instructions that I should never bring anyone with me to that room. He said having someone else’s consciousness there might warp me in some way. Of course he said it much more eloquently than I, but that’s the gist of it. It seemed I was able to somehow channel his thoughts when I was there. The way he had explained this to me in his journal was that I knew what he would say because he was a part of me.

So, I wasn’t actually channeling Mathias’ spirit, but more like his consciousness still existed somewhere deep within my mind. It would seem then some wizards may never truly die. I had wondered before if all wizards had the power to hold the consciousness of their ancestors within their mind, but decided I didn’t really want to know. If I was the only one, I didn’t need another reason to make me feel like a weirdo.

No wonder Mathias waited for me so long; he needed someone to house his ability, as well as his essence. Out loud I said, “Are you showing me this so you can live vicariously through my sex life?”

“My dear, I have experienced enough in my own time to put you to shame. If ever I should decide to share my experiences with you, the blush would take days to fade away.”

His sarcastic response was instant. And in spite of its bitter undertone, I knew it was meant in jest.

“Then why did you show me this?”

“I just thought it might help you to sleep.”

“I know there’s more you’re not telling me, but I’ve learned better than to expect a straight answer from you.”

“You came here looking for sweet dreams. What could be more pleasant than to dream of the desires of your heart?”

“And what could be more painful than to wake up and realize it was all a dream? No thank you, Mathias. I just want a good night’s sleep.”

“My dear, you are wise beyond your years.”

“You sure you weren’t just trying to have a wet dream?”

“I may be little more than smoke and thought, but I have not lost my memories. Let us just say that I was not called The Seducer for nothing.”

“Good night, Mathias.”

I put down the bottle and re-selected the one labeled, “sweet dreams.” After removing the stopper, I tipped the bottle enough to get one drop of the pale lilac liquid on my index finger. I placed this drop in the middle of my forehead just above eyebrow level, where many psychics believe the third eye resides.

I stretched out across the sofa and covered myself with a blanket that looked to be made of thousands of vibrant green leaves.

*****

The morning came in what felt like the blink of an eye. It looked like I hadn’t moved for the rest of the night and my arms were cold from sleeping above the covers. If I had dreamed, I could not recall. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I padded downstairs still wearing the pjs I’d put on the afternoon before. The only thing that was suitable for breakfast was some frozen waffles I managed to overlook the day before. I absolutely had to buy groceries.

As I was making coffee to go with the waffles, I heard a bump at the front door. It wasn’t exactly a knock, more like something smacked into the wood. Until then, I had forgotten about Sam. Even if I had remembered nothing could have prepared me for what was waiting outside. When I opened my front door I found Sam curled up on my welcome mat, naked. The shredded material that remained of his jeans had been placed carefully over the parts that mattered, and he was sound asleep.

“Ahem,” I cleared my throat.

Sam looked over his shoulder at me and smiled. He got to his feet, still holding the jeans in front of him and still smiling. He seemed completely comfortable, as if it were normal to be standing on my front porch in the buff.

“Good mornin’,” he drawled.

“I’m impressed.” I smiled, looking him up and down.

“You and me both,” he teased. “I figured somebody would have seen me and called the police by now.” He laughed. “You look surprised.”

“I expected to see you, Sam, just not so much of you.”

“Is that a complaint?”

“Nope.”

I stepped back and motioned for him to come inside. When he walked past me it was all I could do to resist smacking his ass. So, I just got a good look instead.

“Nice,” I said as he made his way into the foyer.

“Always nice to be appreciated,” he said with a wink.

I watched as his long, lean body walked down the hall and out of my sight. Yes, Sam had a very nice body. He wasn’t quite in Marco’s category of buffness, but there was nothing to complain about either.

While I went back to my coffee, I assumed Sam was in the shower and left a mug out for him. I had just put my waffles in the toaster when I heard a knock at the front door. I answered the door and found a very frazzled looking Kat who immediately pushed her way into the house. I’d met Kat four years ago after rescuing her boyfriend at the time from werewolves. Kat is six years older than me, and slightly taller. Her shoulder length brunette hair hung in damp waves that told me she’d gotten dressed in a hurry. It was my fault for letting her worry.

“Where have you been? I mean, what is going on with you? First you take off to the club in the middle of a hurricane, next I get a note from Marco saying that, “Lilith is with me should you need to reach her.” And, “P.S. She will most likely be staying the week.”

At the end of this little spiel Kat was out of breath and looked angry. I invited her to come in the kitchen and I would explain. It took me a while, but I pretty much covered everything except the fact that Marco and I hadn’t actually had sex. By this time, Kat had calmed down tremendously, especially when she understood that I had been stranded there because of the storm and hadn’t actually set out to leave for the week.

“You mean to tell me you spent the week with a sexy beast like Marco, and you didn’t have sex with him?”

“I stayed so I could get to know more about him, Kat. Not so he could whip it out and let me take measurements.”

“Well, that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but it sounds like fun,” she joked.

“You’re sick.”

“So, what did you learn about him then?”

I told Kat that for all appearance sake, Marco was not such a bad guy after all. Of course I left out a few minor details. I didn’t want to give away pack business, or anything like that. But, I told Kat as much as I could, which was basically everything. I even told her about what Marco was going to propose to the council and she was impressed.

“Wow. So they could like announce on the news next week or something that werewolves are among us.”

“It’s possible, but I don’t think it will happen that fast. Besides, even if they do recognize them as being legal citizens again on Terra, that doesn’t necessarily mean Earth will do the same.”

“But it’s likely?”

“Yeah. I expect it will happen that way.”

Kat took a few minutes to absorb this information and poured herself a cup of coffee. However, once she had her mind set on something Kat was not easily distracted and went right back to the topic of sex.

“So you didn’t do anything?” I didn’t have to ask what she meant.

“Well ...”

I went on to tell her about what happened between Marco and I in the bathtub. My description was vivid, seeing as how I couldn’t get the images out of my mind. Every time I closed my eyes I was confronted with a vision of Marco crawling toward me through the hot frothy water, his wet silk pajamas clinging to his muscular thighs. The way the water glistened off his hot skin in the candlelight was enough to make me foam at the mouth.

“Damn,” she said in a hushed voice. “I’m impressed. I mean, that takes skill.”

I laughed. “Yeah, it does.”

“He know any other tricks?” she pressed.

“I don’t know, Kat. I didn’t ask him.”

“He really kept the pants on?”

I nodded.

“That’s a damn shame.” She shook her head like she’d just read about a great tragedy in the news.

I described for her as best I could how I had felt afterward and her eyes bugged out of her head. I went on to say the real shame was that I’d never experienced anything like it in my life and we hadn’t even had sex.

“You know what this means, right?” she said.

“What?”

“As soon as he gets back, you’ve got to jump him.”

We laughed and talked some more and I shared with her the rather sad note the week had ended on. Kat was one of my closest friends and I didn’t even try to hide the fact that I would miss Marco when I told her the rest of the story.

“So, he really is a nice guy, huh? You sure you’re not just trying to sugar coat the devil?”

“Maybe a little, but he tastes better that way,” I purred.

Before I could ask about Charles, Sam walked in. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a smile. The sudden appearance of his tall svelte body made Kat choke on her coffee, and reminded me that I had left something out of the rundown I’d given her, Sam.

“Kat, this is Sam. Sam, this is my friend Katherine Roberts.”

“Good mornin’.” He nodded toward Kat before turning to me.

“You got any sugar, darlin’?”

Kat was grinning from ear to ear as she watched Sam walk to the coffee pot. She gave me a look behind his back and mouthed, “What the hell?”

“It’s here.” I reached around Sam for the sugar and accidentally brushed the back of my arm across his stomach. The contact made me shiver in a way that had nothing to do with Sam personally, and everything to do with the fact that he was an alpha male and he was close to me.

“I thought you took it black.” I tried to maintain my composure, but my voice was breathy.

He smiled, causing one corner of his mustache to twitch. “I thought I’d make an effort to be sweeter today.”

“You wanna know how I take it?” Kat asked from behind us.

I laughed and Sam turned one of his charming smiles her way.

“Let’s not go there,” I directed this at Kat before turning back to Sam. “I was just telling Kat where I’ve been for the past week.”

“Something tells me I was not a part of this story.”

“I was just getting there.”

Sam took over and explained to Kat why he was there and his reasons for following me home. To my surprise he seemed to have no qualms about introducing himself as a visiting alpha werewolf. It also didn’t seem to bother Kat in the least that the man she was openly leering at was technically an animal.

“So, do all werewolves go around half naked?” she asked.

Sam didn’t seem to be bothered by the question in the least. “Yeah, we do. For the most part we’re all very comfortable in our own skin.” He winked at me. “I only put on clothes for other people’s comfort.”

The look on Kat’s face told me she was about to say how much more comfortable she would be if Sam were naked. So, I interrupted before she got a chance.

“I’m going to be in town later, Kat. Why don’t I stop by the shop and you can show me what you’ve done lately?”

“If you ladies have something else that you’d rather not discuss in front of me, it won’t hurt my feelin’s none,” Sam said.

“Not at all.” Kat smiled, seeming to take the hint that I wanted to ask about Charles.

She stood up and stretched before walking to the door, “Come by and see me later. I’ll fill you in on my latest endeavor.”

*****

I got dressed while Sam went back outside to work on picking up more of the scattered debris. I selected a short green t-shirt and a pair of tan knee-length shorts. They’d started life as a pair of khaki pants that had been cut off a long time ago. Lucky for me, they were in style at the time. When I started to look for my sandals a strange feeling came over me. I felt lost and empty. Just as I sat down on the bed thinking I had no idea what would have caused such a feeling, I looked at the clock. It was time for Marco to be leaving.

I didn’t understand how it could be possible, but I knew that he was gone. I had felt him leave. I put on my sandals and tried to act like I hadn’t felt anything. But that didn’t work. When I walked outside I brought Sam a large jug of lemonade on my way to the car.

He took one look at me and said, “You felt it too.”

It wasn’t phrased like a question but I still answered, “Yes.”

I stared off blankly for a minute and then shook my head in an attempt to clear my thoughts.

“The door’s unlocked, Sam. I’ll be back shortly.”

Sam nodded and went back to work. We were literally out of everything, so going to the grocery store took a good bit longer than I expected. After loading everything into my car I remembered how much meat and frozen foods I’d bought. That wasn’t going to keep during what was sure to be a lengthy conversation with Kat, so I went back home first.

I’d give Kat a call to let her know I would come by later. She kept insisting I get a cell phone, but that would only give people even more opportunities to bother me at a bad time. Still, I’d probably end up getting one soon.

Ever since I felt Marco leave I’d been in a bit of a funk and couldn’t seem to shake it. When I pulled up in front of the house, Sam was sitting on the top step fanning himself with the front of his shirt.

“Need help?”

“Probably,” I replied softly.

Sam walked over and opened the back door beside me. “He’ll be back.”

I looked up at him and started to ask how he knew what I was thinking, but decided against it. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear I was that transparent. He helped me get everything in the house and stored away before fixing himself a turkey sandwich and a glass of tea.

“You stop by to see your friend?”

“No. I’ll go back after lunch.”

“She’s gonna be pissed.” He smirked as if he found the idea funny.

“You think?” I asked as I rummaged through the fridge for some mayonnaise.

“I could be wrong, but I doubt it. There was obviously something on that gal’s mind besides decorating.”

He was right. By the time I made it by Kat’s shop she was practically bursting at the seams to tell me what had been going on. Kat had a new boyfriend that I had yet to meet. However, she was in the back when I arrived. I walked in and took a deep breath of the potpourri Kat always had simmering and took a minute to look around. She had repainted since my last visit and added some faux Greco Roman columns along the walls. The shop was a large open room filled with a variety of furniture and flower arrangements. If it could be used to decorate, Kat sold it.

The bold colors of the flowers spaced about added some flare and contrasted nicely with the grayish tan of the walls. I walked back toward the window and noticed that the new display revolved around a large, beautifully framed picture of Elijah and myself at Ms. Wilson’s tea party. As I looked at our smiling faces I was amazed at how happy we looked together. I almost didn’t recognize myself. It was a good picture. Kat had two large boards directly behind her display windows so that the inside of the shop could not be seen from the street except through the glass of the front door. These boards were painted tastefully in a soft beige and draped with several cream and dark brown cloths. A decorative tea set was displayed in front of our picture as well as a vase filled with what looked like the same flowers in the picture. I had to admit, Kat had done a good job helping to spread rumors about Elijah and me, as well as sprucing up her shop.

In the opposite window there was a mixture of the same colors, but in the middle was a bold red sash. It looked as if it had been thrown casually over the board, and at its feet sat one of my paintings of the beautiful Don Juan roses growing on my balcony. I had to at least keep up the front of being an artist, so Kat sold some of my paintings in her shop. It probably wouldn’t go over well with the community to know I was really a werewolf hunter.

Chapter Three

“Where have you been?! It’s after lunch!” Kat had finally noticed me milling about the shop.

“I had to buy groceries, remember?”

“And that took all day?”

“All morning, yeah. We were out of everything.”

I walked to the back of the shop with Kat where she had an office as well as a small sitting room. We both flopped down on the couch as I said, “So come on, spill it.”

Kat giggled and asked, “What do you want to know first?”

“I want to know how things are going with Charles, of course.”

She launched in to a soliloquy about how things were going well, how they were both pretty compatible. They had been to the movies, been to dinner. They both had a bizarre love of Chinese and Brazilian restaurants also. When she finally stopped to take a breath I decided to give her the routine she usually gave me.

“That’s nice, but how was he?”

“Lilith!” She pretended to be scandalized. “We’ve only been dating a month now. What makes you think that--?”

“Oh come off it,” I laughed.

“He’s like a wild animal,” she squealed. “I swear it’s the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“This is including the sailor you picked up in Panama that time?”

She looked flustered. “Oh, I forgot about him. Okay, so it’s a close tie, how’s that?”

I laughed. “From what I remember of the sailor story, I’d say that’s pretty damn good.”

“Of course, I suppose that doesn’t impress someone who’s been sleeping with a werewolf that can make you howl without even taking his pants off,” she retorted.

I could feel myself blushing to the roots of my hair. I almost denied we’d been sleeping together, but it was true. We had been sleeping together, just not in the way Kat was implying. So I shut my mouth and blushed to match my hair.

“Come to think of it, he didn’t use his mouth either, did he?” she pressed.

“Nope.” This time my evil smile matched hers as I continued, “And that takes skill.”

“So, you still plan to do what you said, go on with your lives and see where that takes you?”

“That’s all I really can do. I have to know what’s going on with Alfred first. What I feel for him is something I can’t leave unfinished. I just have to know. Does that make any sense?”

“It does, but I think I’d have to know what was in Marco’s pants too.”

“You’re so bad,” I said, laughing softly.

“Seriously though, I know what you’re saying. It wouldn’t be fair to yourself or to Alfred to not pursue what you guys had going before he had to leave. I mean, how many years have you known this man?”

“Fifteen.” I sighed. “I love him, there’s no question about it. I’ve loved him for years, as family. But, lately that’s changed and I need to know what else it might become. After all, good men don’t just fall out of the sky.”

“I don’t know,” she said seriously, “I dated a paratrooper once.”

“So, how big are we talking?” I teased. It was about time Kat had a taste of her own medicine.

“On a scale of what?”

“On a scale of that guy you went out with in high school or the sailor.”

I didn’t need to explain to her that we’d jumped subjects again and were talking about Charles. That’s the great thing about having a friend like Kat. Our brains were on the same wavelength.

“He’s on up there, but the sailor’s still got him beat,” she admitted.

“By how much? We talking only noticeable with a ruler, or the difference in ‘Ooo and ah’?”

She cackled with laughter before answering, “Oh, it’s noticeable, but he’s still above average by any standard.”

“You take pictures?”

“Okay, now I know you’re just being an ass.”

“You’re right.” I laughed. “I have no interest whatsoever in seeing his naked ass.”

She didn’t point out that we’d been talking about his dick, not his ass.

“Why not? That’s his best feature.”

Before I left, I assured Kat that I really didn’t want to see naked pictures of her boyfriend. However, she informed me that should I ever get my hands on revealing photos of Marco, “You’d better share.”

*****

The next few days passed uneventfully. Sam was good company and I felt safer having him around. When I walked out on the porch that Wednesday Sam had just parked his bike in front of the house. He was dressed in black again, and from his sleeveless t-shirt to his cowboy boots, it looked good on him. I walked down the steps with a smile. “You going my way, stranger?”

Sam returned my smile. “I was just about to take a ride. You care to join me?”

“Sure.”

I love motorcycles and roughed up old cowboys who know how to drive them. As I slid into place behind Sam I wrapped my arms around his waist and asked, “Can I talk to you about something?”

“I was wonderin’ when you’d ask that.”

While we drove, I gave Sam the grand tour of my home town along with my life’s story. Since I felt like I could talk to him, I decided to go with that feeling. There were some things I needed to get off my chest, about Marco, and Alfred, and everything else. Besides, Sam was the perfect person to get an insight from, if anyone could offer one. He was a friend of Marco’s, he had dated a sorceress at some point, he was an alpha werewolf, and he was a man. He was also a good listener, and as we talked I understood why Marco trusted him so much.

By the time we pulled back up in front of the house, I’d told him the story from every angle I could think of. I even told him about Mathias and his warning. There was more to Sam than a friendly smile, and if you looked carefully you could see the wisdom in his dark eyes. If eyes were truly the windows to the soul, then Sam had seen a lot.

“Well, I don’t think his warning was about Marco in particular,” he said finally. “I think it was about everybody. I also don’t think he meant the word love like you do. See, there’s a fine line between what The Seducer calls love and everybody else calls sex.”

“Good point. I knew it was about sex, but I thought he was talking about an emotional connection too.”

“I think he was. But, take Alfred for instance. You said you loved him, right?”

I nodded.

“But, have you taken on any of his characteristics? Do you like any of the things he likes that you didn’t enjoy before?”

“No. Are you saying if I sleep with him that might change?”

“I think that’s what Mathias meant.”

“Son of a bitch,” I said. “I was afraid of that.”

“Darlin’ wizards never give a straight answer. And every answer they do give has at least three different meanings. That’s why people think they’re so damn mysterious and wise. I just think they’re indecisive.”

I laughed. “Come on, Sam. Let’s get something to eat.”

*****

I felt better after talking things over with Sam. He helped to clarify several things I’d already begun to suspect, mostly about myself. I told him what Marco and I had decided about going on with our lives and he agreed with me that was best. He said this way I wouldn’t have to wonder what might have happened with Alfred. Even if things didn’t work out, at least I wouldn’t have to wonder. I agreed with him. I’ve always said in the time it takes to wonder, you could know. But, I still missed Marco.

Every night I had to meditate in order to fall asleep. In my mind Mathias let me know we had interpreted his warning correctly, but I was still over complicating things.

“Tomorrow will come if it was meant to, whether you like it or not.”

I also figured out, with Sam’s help, that part of the reason I missed Marco so much was because I’d felt the pack through him. Most pack members lived near one another because of the security and comfort that being near other wolves brought them.

He said that was part of the reason I was experiencing, “withdrawals.”

“But, you’re a werewolf,” I pointed out.

“Yes,” he said. “But, I’m not from your pack. See, you felt Marco’s pack through his connection to them. They are all tied to their alpha, and when you hold him you feel their link.”

“They’re not my pack.”

“Maybe not, but they’re his …”

“He’s not mine,” I interrupted and it hurt to say out loud.

“If you say so.”

*****

When it was time for the hearing, Sam and I decided to rent some movies and try not to think about it. We went to one of the local video stores and selected a variety of westerns. In all honesty, we both looked at the drama section, but thought getting all emotional at that point would be counterproductive. Nothing like watching a good old fashioned “shoot ‘em up” western.

The clerk, who was used to seeing me with either Alfred or Kat, gave Sam a rather rude appraisal. I had known the girl since I was thirteen, and I didn’t like her any better with age. She kept giving him dirty looks, so I finally said, “Is there a problem, Lola?”

She kind of snorted before answering, “Who’s your friend?”

“What does it matter?”

There was no denying the nastiness in my voice and I saw Sam cringe out of the corner of my eye.

She continued undeterred, “Well, the rumor around town is that you’ve been seeing Elijah Jasper.”

I just looked at her blankly.

“They say you dumped your live-in boyfriend for him.”

I just kept staring expressionless at Lola. The longer I looked, the more she seemed to develop diarrhea of the mouth. “Of course, I haven’t said anything, I just listen, but everybody comes in here, and that’s the latest word. I was surprised. I mean, Jasper’s cute and all, but that Italian, oh my God. So, I said something must be wrong with her, to myself of course—”

Sam seemed to find the situation funny and finally interrupted, “Honey, you believe everything you hear?”

Lola tucked her dark hair behind one ear nervously and stuttered a bit before saying, “Well, I didn’t expect to see her walk in here with a tall drink of water like you.”

A thought seemed to come to Lola’s mind, and her eyes lit up expectantly.

“You must be the man she was seen riding around town with this week, the one with the Harley.” She practically squealed with excitement.

“That would be me.” He smiled.

Sam may have been getting a kick out of the situation, but I was not. My blood positively boiled at the thought of people spying on me. My private life was not, nor would it ever be any business of theirs!

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” I asked, trying not to sneer.

“What do you mean?” she stammered.

“I mean, does no one in this town have enough of a life to interest them even slightly more than who I might be sleeping with?”

“Well, you don’t have to get mean about it, if you don’t want to answer, just say so.” She sounded brave, but Lola was beginning to cringe behind her computer.

“I’m not being mean, Lola. Mean is spying on your neighbors and running your mouth about things that you don’t understand. What you’re witnessing right now is not me being mean. This is how someone reacts when confronted with idiocy in motion.” The more I spoke the more soft and deadly my voice became.

Normally, I don’t have such a short fuse, but Lola had pushed the right button on the wrong day. In spite of my reaction, I could still see the question in her eyes. She still wanted to know if any of it was true.

“Rumors will fly as long as idiots give them wings.” I snarled as I picked up the movies and made my way to the door.

Sam walked quickly to catch up enough to open the door for me. As I stepped out onto the sidewalk he glanced back at Lola and added, “For the record, I’m staying in the guest room.”

When I tried to open the car door, my hand was shaking so much I nearly scratched the paint with the key.

“Give it up.” Sam stretched his open hand toward me.

Fortunately, we’d parked around the side of the building away from Lola and her prying eyes.

“What?” I said.

“You are way too upset to drive.”

He was right. I handed over the keys and climbed into the passenger seat. Once we were out of the parking lot Sam asked, “You want to explain to me what the hell that was all about?”

“It just pisses me off,” I snapped.

“Well, no shit, but do you realize you’re shaking?”

“You would be too if people had talked about you behind your back your whole life.”

I launched into an explanation about how ever since I was in school, people kept deliberately starting things with me. I had never understood why. I didn’t sleep around, I didn’t start fights. For the most part I was really easy going until someone finally pushed my buttons one time too many.

“The shit they say has never been true,” I stressed.

“Let me guess, these rumors are spread mostly by women.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah, so?”

“So, they’re jealous.”

“Of what? Being the center of ridicule? They want everyone watching every move they make, hmm?”

“I take it these rumors have never prevented you from getting a date?”

“What are you implying? I may not be a saint, but I’m nothing compared to some of the whores in this town. That bitch back there’s seen more wang than the Hong Kong phone book.”

Sam burst out laughing and swerved a little.

“I’m not implying anything. I’m just saying that anyone who takes the time to actually know you will see right through all that crap. You’re not like them, and that’s a good thing. Take this Elijah character for instance. Apparently, he’s a hot item around these parts.”

“You picked up on that, huh?”

“Yeah,” he drawled. “The thing is they can’t compete with you fairly for someone intelligent enough to see the real you. So pettiness like that is their only means of competition.”

I shook my head and sighed. “I just don’t understand it. And now I feel worse for letting her get to me. Maybe I’m too stressed, thinking about the hearing and all.”

“You mean you don’t understand the jealousy?”

“I guess. Apparently, I don’t see what it is everybody else does when they look at me. Like today, my hair isn’t even fixed. I don’t understand why they’re so threatened.”

“And that’s part of your appeal.” He winked.

“My lack of self-confidence? Oh yeah, that’s real attractive.”

Sam sighed as he reached over and took hold of one my hands to prevent me from cracking my knuckles any more.

“Men love a beautiful woman who has no idea that she’s beautiful.”

His kind smile quenched the fire that memories of past wrongs had only helped to fuel. We decided to go through the drive through for Chinese on the way home. It was a relief to go someplace where they didn’t give a damn who I was in the car with.

The small Chinese restaurant in town was run by a family from Hong Kong who stuck out about as much as I did. Not only did they not join in the local gossip, they really didn’t seem to care. With most of the locals, they pretended not to speak English just to avoid nosy and ignorant questions. But with me, they would talk freely and were always pleasant. It was nice to know they didn’t put me in the same category with everyone else.

Once we were back home, Sam carried in the take-out and I grabbed the movies.

“Where do you want to eat?”

“Take it in the sitting room. We’ll eat in front of the TV.”

The entertainment center and television sat sort of in the corner of the sitting room. It was on the wall opposite the fire place, and just to the left of the open entrance past the stairs. I brought in two large glasses of tea and propped my lunch on a pillow across my lap while Sam started the first movie. I couldn’t help admiring how good he looked in those faded old jeans. Marco still had him beat, but Sam was worth a second look. Maybe there was something about werewolves that just made them more noticeable. That was a possibility, but something told me Sam had always had a way with jeans.

“So how come you have a sitting room and everybody else has a living room?” he teased.

“Because this house was built before everyone lived around the television. So therefore, in a house this old, it’s a sitting room.”

We ate lunch while making occasional comments about the movies, but we were mostly quiet. No matter how hard I tried to pay attention to our little movie marathon, I was nervous and kept fidgeting.

“Come here,” Sam said and stretched out his arm toward me.

I hesitated for a minute and he added, “I won’t bite.”

I scooted closer and let Sam put his arm around me. It wasn’t quite the comfort I got from Marco, but it helped.

*****

At four o’clock Sam woke me.

“You all right?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “What did I miss?”

“Darlin’ you missed it all,” he said with a smile.

He asked if I wanted to go to bed or stay there while he watched some show about Egyptian pyramids. Both of us knew we would most likely be up all night anyway, so I decided to stay with Sam. If I went upstairs my mind would start working overtime again. Besides, falling asleep next to him was the first rest I’d gotten in a week that hadn’t required serious meditation. I tried not to wonder why I was so comforted by the presence of an alpha werewolf.

*****

Early the next morning I woke up with my head on a pillow in Sam’s lap. I looked up and found him watching me.

“It’s over,” he said.

“How do you know?”

He pointed to the clock. “It’s time for him to be back.”

Before I could sit up straight the phone rang and I ran for it. Screw pride, I needed to know that Marco was safe.

“That was quick, Red,” Marco’s deep voice rumbled through the phone.

“I hate you,” I panted.

“Yeah, I know. That’s why you sound like you ran to the phone, so you could go on hating me, right?”

“Exactly.”

Both of us knew the real reason I ran to the phone, but neither one of us spoke up. We talked briefly and he told me the hearing seemed to have gone well. I could hear the relief in his voice, and it did me good. I felt a tension I had not previously noticed begin to loosen within me as he spoke. Even if the council didn’t go along with his ideas, they hadn’t killed him. It would be several weeks at least before I would find out if that was still my job.

“Aldan Medwin in particular seemed to be interested in what I had to say.”

Aldan Medwin was the wizard who had taken the council seat vacated by Mathias, after Alek Ambrose refused the appointment.

“Really?”

“Yes, he seemed quite sympathetic.”

After a few minutes my heart began to beat normally again and I passed the phone to Sam as he sauntered up behind me. Relief was not an accurate word for what I felt. The sound of Marco’s voice never failed to thrill me and that day was no exception. When Sam hung up he turned to me and said, “Now all we have to do is wait for their decision.”

“God knows how long that might take.”

“Yeah, and I’m in no position to ask Him,” he joked.

Sam stayed through the rest of the week. I stood on the front porch Monday morning and watched as he disappeared down my drive way.

Elijah called a few days later to apologize for having been so busy. I didn’t bother to tell him that was all right, because everyone in town thought he’d been busy with me. We made plans for the weekend. I genuinely liked Elijah, but I mostly wanted to go out with him to dare people to say something else. He said there was somewhere he wanted to take me. I didn’t feel much like going out, but once Elijah smiled at me with those big blue eyes, I’d agree to go most anywhere.

Being by myself again wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. Besides, with Mathias lodged somewhere in the back of my mind, I was never completely alone. Of course, no one knew that except me. How would you go about explaining that to someone? “Oh yeah, my great, great, grandfather’s consciousness still exists in the back of my mind and we chat sometimes when I meditate.” If I was ever looking for a room in the local nut house, that was a sure way to get there.

*****

Elijah called again on Thursday and informed me I needed to bring my swimsuit. He said I was going to the beach if he had to drag me kicking and screaming. I don’t know why people got the impression I never went outside. I’m just naturally pale. The best I get is a honeyed sort of cream color which is not exactly tan.

Because it had been at least a few years since I’d been swimming, I called Kat and informed her we were going shopping. We went to a local mall. Shopping on the beach was a good way to get ripped off. Once we were inside the store, Kat immediately started looking at some suits that could only be described as vaguely obscene.

“No way in hell,” I said, before she could even suggest it.

“Not for you, for me,” she joked, but I could see through her lie.

“Oh, sure. Like you could fit any more than I could into that top.”

Kat and I were both very well endowed, so selecting a swimsuit that didn’t look like an old lady or flash parts you wanted to keep private always proved a challenge.

“It’s a conspiracy,” she announced finally.

“What’s that?”

“I think all the women in the world who have small breasts get together and design clothes the rest of us can’t fit into.”

“Most likely. I guess that’s their revenge.” I laughed.

“It has to be! How else would you explain this?”

After narrowing down my search to a few pieces, I decided to try them on. From the changing booth beside me I kept hearing Kat make comments like, “You’ve got to be kidding me!” and “No fucking way!”

Every time I squeezed into another unflattering suit, I just laughed and agreed with her. I finally decided on a sort of faded green and blue one piece. The top began as an earthy green and faded gradually into a blue. It went well with my hair.

Before we left, I also bought a large white mesh tunic to wear over the suit. I wasn’t embarrassed, or ashamed of my figure. On the contrary, I had worked hard for my shape and was quite proud of it. I just didn’t want to feel so naked around Elijah all day. Not that a see-through tunic would do much good at hiding anything, but it made me feel better.

When I showed Kat the suit she said, “Ooo, nice. I think he’ll like that.”

“And what makes you think I care what he likes?”

“Because if you didn’t you’d just go in a pair of cut off shorts and a tank top.”

“Bitch.”

“Slut.”

About this time a little gray haired old lady passed by where we stood and gave us the strangest look. Kat and I both burst out laughing which judging by the woman’s facial expression, only proved we were insane.

*****

My father called early Friday morning. I heard my communicator beeping on the table beside the bed and pressed the call button. Immediately my father’s very disgruntled image appeared before me.

“Good morning, Daddy.”

He grunted.

“Is it that bad?”

“I’m not really sure. I suppose you’ve been wondering what I found out this week?”

I nodded and pretended I hadn’t heard anything about the hearing before then. It wouldn’t do to let him know I’d already heard how things went from Marco. But then again, it wouldn’t do for the council to realize my father had a bug in the building during the hearing.

“From what I was able to hear, things look very good for the lycans.”

“Really? How much did you hear?”

He shrugged. “Everything, of course. Jacob Mercury doesn’t do half assed spying.”

“Get over yourself and tell me what you heard,” I teased.

“Well the thing is ... he had a good point.”

“What?” I hadn’t expected to hear that.

My father ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily.

“What he said made a lot of sense.” He paused before continuing, “At one point he said that what happened to him could have happened to any of the Hunters. Men and women who had served their purpose well only to have their government turn its collective back on them when something went wrong.”

My dad looked positively horror struck. “He’s right. I was there when Marco Barak was attacked ... and it could have been me ... it could have been anybody.”

I was quiet for a few minutes while he seemed to be lost in a terrible memory.

“You never told me that.” I paused. “What happened?”

“Alfred and I were called in to help take down a real sicko. This guy had contracted the virus a few years earlier and seemed to get a sick thrill out of spreading it to the most beautiful women he could find.”

“I take it he didn’t attack them?”

“No, he would bite or scratch them during sex. Sometimes the mark would be so slight that the poor women would have no idea what had happened until they grew fur. If you ask me that’s a hell of a wakeup call.”

I watched as my father’s hologram walked over to the cabinet and took out what looked like a bottle of whiskey. He poured himself two shots before continuing with his story.

“I had to kill some of them,” he said in a quiet, haunted voice. “They were raving mad. They hadn’t had the slightest idea something was wrong with them until they started to turn. Some committed suicide.”

“Why was he let go for so long?” I asked.

“Because we could never quite get our hands on the bastard.” He sighed. “So this time, they called in two units. One was Barak and his partner, the other was Alfred and me. When we got there, Alfred and George, that was Marco’s partner, went to the front. Since they both wanted to go in guns blazing, we figured the front door would be the best place for that.”

He sat back down at the table and stared into space for a minute or two.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah?” he answered absently.

“You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

“It’s all right,” he said. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve thought about any of this.”

After another minute he continued, “So, we heard them bust in the front and we knocked down the back door. Neither one of us was prepared for what this guy had in his kitchen. One of the women he’d turned was on a leash attached to the floor with a silver chain. See, we also didn’t know that he was an alpha male and because of this was able to force those weaker than him to maintain their animal forms.”

“That’s horrible. So, she was in wolf form chained to the kitchen floor?”

“She had been forced to hold a form somewhere in between. So, when we broke into the kitchen, there was a she-wolf chained to the floor that was not only frightened and angry, but she had been starved for weeks.”

I was afraid to ask what happened. Part of me wanted to know, but I almost told him to stop.

“Once Alfred and George were halfway through the house, a stray bullet hit the chain and she lunged at us. Marco was standing slightly in front of me and she just happened to take him down first. George came running in and stabbed her in the back several times before she let go, but the damage was done. Marco’s chest was torn to shreds and the flesh hung back from one of his forearms.”

“What happened to George?”

“She turned on him next and tore his throat out. Alfred was out of bullets and I was pinned beneath Barak. Marco had a blade in his right boot, the kind that extends from beneath the toes when you hit the heel.” He looked stricken and kept running his fingers absently through his hair.

“When she was done with George and turned back for us, he stabbed her underneath the chin. He held his injured arm to his chest, got to his feet, and with his good arm took the silver machete from his belt.”

I knew what was coming next, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him to stop talking. It was sort of like driving by a car accident. You don’t really want to see something terrible, but you can’t stop yourself from looking.

“I got to my feet, but couldn’t seem to go farther. I can’t say how long Alfred and I stood there while he chopped that werewolf to pieces ... screaming ... it was the most awful sound I’d ever heard. He sounded like his soul had been violated ... it was terrible.”

Hearing about Marco’s attack upset me much worse than I’d thought it would. It was similar to my own, except in my case, my father had chopped up the werewolf. I was torn between crying and wanting to throw up.

“What happened? What did you do?”

My dad seemed to come out of a fog as he answered, “Alfred and George had killed the one we were sent for on their way to us.”

“What about Marco?”

“Well, after he was done we just looked at each other for a while. I think if Alfred had had any bullets left, he’d have shot him. But I just couldn’t. I know that’s what I was supposed to do, but part of me kept saying, that could have been you.”

He looked back up and said, “Lilith, that could have been me, and it nearly was my daughter.” He paused again. “I let him go. I watched while he walked out and Alfred looked for a bullet.”

My dad had another call coming in, so he excused himself. The moment the call ended I began to cry. I cried so hard I pulled my stomach muscles. I had known that Marco was attacked, but I had no idea that my father and Alfred were both there. I never expected to hear an eye witness account of him being ripped to pieces.

I went into the bathroom and put a cool wash cloth over my eyes. No matter how much I tried to calm myself, all I could see was Marco covered in blood. My mind ran through memories of rubbing my face against his chest. The image was so strong I could feel his hair as it brushed my cheek.

The next image that filled my mind was his muscular tanned chest hanging in shreds. I lunged for the toilet and barely made it. I must have spent at least an hour in there throwing up what felt like everything I’d eaten for the past month. Once I finally stopped gagging I just lay there on the floor and fought the urge to run to Marco as if it were a physical thing. My desire to be near him, to comfort him, was almost tangible.

Chapter Four

Somehow I made it through to the next morning when Elijah came knocking at my door. I had packed a change of clothes in my usual black leather bag. Elijah wanted to go to dinner after a day at the beach, and I didn’t want to wear a transparent tunic to a restaurant.

When I opened the door the smile faded from his face as he asked, “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” I lied.

It had taken every ounce of will power I possessed to get out of bed that morning. I wanted to be near Marco and the more I fought the urge, the stronger it seemed to become.

Elijah stepped inside the door and hugged me close to him. For a moment I wondered if he could read minds too. I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in the curve of his neck. Since Elijah was only a few inches taller than me, he was easier to snuggle. The more I was around werewolves, the more touchy feely I was becoming. I had always been the kind of person who liked to be casually touched, but not by strangers. Then again Elijah wasn’t a stranger. My desire for closeness had been largely ignored, however, due to the fact that direct contact with their skin might accidentally result in me reading people’s minds. For years the only person I ever hugged was my father.

But Elijah was safe. He’d had a nice childhood and a nice family. He had good memories. Nothing terrible was going to jump out at me from behind that gorgeous smile.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked as he pulled back from me.

“Yeah. I was just a little sick last night, something I ate.”

“You sure it isn’t all the rumors I’ve been hearing?”

“Well, that didn’t help, but the thought of being associated with you doesn’t make me sick.” I attempted to sound upbeat about it, but failed miserably.

“I’m really sorry about that. I want you to know I haven’t said anything to give people the impression that—”

“It’s all right,” I interrupted. “You don’t owe me an explanation.” I forced myself to smile as I added, “or an apology. I’ve lived in this town off and on my whole life. These people are assholes.” The smile was genuine after I said that and my spirits began to improve.

“So, you feel like snorkeling?”

“Sure. Just let me get my flip flops.”

Elijah had an old red Jeep that was perfect for going to the beach. He tossed my bag in the back along with his and we were off. The nearest beach is about a fifty minute drive from my house, so we had time to enjoy the breeze and each other’s company.

“So, what have you been up to?” He raised his voice slightly so I could hear him over the wind rushing past our ears.

Immediately I was plagued by the image of Marco crawling toward me in the bathtub and I felt myself begin to blush.

“Oh, nothing really.”

“Do you burn easily?”

“Huh?”

“You look a little flushed.”

“Oh, it’s just the heat,” I lied.

For the rest of the drive he told me about his visit home. Both his parents were doing good, as well as a few other relatives he’d visited while he was gone. Elijah had worn deep blue swim trunks that were nearly knee-length with a pale blue t-shirt. As he spoke, I couldn’t seem to stop my eyes from wandering. He had nice legs. Then again, I hadn’t seen anything on Elijah that wasn’t nice. I felt a little guilty for noticing, but then reminded myself there was no harm in looking. Like I’d told Kat once, “If I ever stop looking, check for a pulse.”

I like to think of attractive men like paintings in an art gallery. I love to look. It’s one of my favorite things to do. There are all different kinds of art and I have learned over the years to appreciate them in all their many forms. I may learn to appreciate the beauty of a particular piece, even if it doesn’t exactly match anything of mine. It wouldn’t go well in my house, but it looks nice just the same. There is a big difference in admiring a painting and taking it home to hang in your living room.

“What do you think?” he asked.

I was too embarrassed to admit I’d been staring at his legs and hadn’t heard a word he’d just said. Fortunately he repeated the question, so I didn’t have to.

“I was just wondering if Kat would still be willing to help Mary out when she finishes school. What do you think?”

His sister Mary would be completing her degree in interior design sometime next year and Elijah was hoping she could come to work with Kat.

“I think so. Kat has talked off and on before about opening a café either in her shop, or next door. Having someone else around would free her up to do that.”

“That would be perfect. Then I could make sure local punks don’t try to date my sister,” he said, laughing. I knew Elijah was teasing. He obviously cared for his sister, but I knew enough about him to know he wouldn’t really try to run her life.

Our day at the beach was surprisingly fun. We swam, we snorkeled, and neither one of us got a sunburn. There was another storm brewing in the gulf, so it was pleasantly overcast with a nice breeze. The ocean had both fascinated and intimated me ever since I was a child. I stood there knee deep in the water and let the coming tide wash over me while Elijah gathered sea shells. As the clean salt air filled my lungs I made a conscious effort to release my worries.

There were people out there with real problems and issues that made my mixed up love life pale in comparison. When it came down to it, I was blessed, with nothing to complain about.

Maybe Mathias and all his advice had been good for something after all. How many times had he told me that everything was going to be all right? Besides, the man could see the future. Even if tomorrow might completely suck, at some point things had to improve. I looked toward Elijah happily chasing the waves looking for shells and decided that moment was already an improvement. Mathias was right. Whatever would be would be, and I could either learn to accept it or go crazy. Given those choices, acceptance sounded pretty good to me. I believe everyone’s destiny was decided long before we were born. However, the path we use to get there is up to us. The choices we make along the way determines which version of our self arrives at the destination.

Keeping with that train of thought, I realized then that a part of me belonged with Elijah. The cheerleader who never got to go to the prom, the girl who was in drama and theatre, she belonged there, not me. Elijah would have been the perfect guy for a different version of myself. But the me that stood before him that day had seen too much and evolved quite drastically from cheerleading captain.

He belonged with the part of me that still believed in love at first sight, not the part that knew what it felt like to be manipulated. The version of me that Elijah knew had dropped out of high school. I had to get a GED after my attack so I could travel to Terra for training and evaluation as soon as possible.

Of course my father kept the circumstances of my injury very hush-hush, but it didn’t matter. The point is I had to leave a part of myself behind. And that part would have liked Elijah very much. The fact that he was still attracted to me, in spite of what I had become was a great tragedy.

Somehow I knew if Elijah kept hanging around me, I would break his heart. Not intentionally of course, but it would happen nonetheless. I did not want to be the one responsible for taking the sparkle from his eyes. But I liked Elijah and didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise, because it would be a lie.

He walked toward me with his hands full of shells. His smile lit up his blue eyes and I almost giggled. Good looking guys are like shells on the beach, you can’t keep them all, but every now and then you see one you’re willing to take a dive for. So what if everyone in town thought I was sleeping with Elijah? There were worse things to be accused of. I was willing to take a dive to keep seeing that smile, even if being near me might lead to its eventual demise.

It wasn’t as if I had a great reputation in the first place. Since I didn’t have much of anything to do with the people in town, I was naturally the topic of a lot of gossip. People are always eager to run their mouths about things they don’t understand. Why that is, I’ll never know.

*****

Once we both changed in a little booth on the beach we decided it was time get something to eat. We went to a Brazilian restaurant that had a wonderful sugar rum drink with lime slices. I couldn’t remember the name of the drink, but after I’d had several, the live music began to sound better and better.

Elijah, being the responsible soul that he is, didn’t drink because he would be driving home.

“I have to confess something,” I spoke over the music.

“What’s that?”

“I’ve never really liked cops.”

“Really? How come? Do you have a problem with authority figures?”

“Not really. I like men in uniform, so I suppose in theory that means I like cops. I guess I’ve just met too many assholes who consequently were police officers.”

“Pigs you mean?”

I laughed. “Yeah, pigs. Don’t get me wrong, I like bacon.”

“But?”

“But too much of anything will eventually give you indigestion.”

To his credit, Elijah had a great sense of humor. He actually laughed at my insulting joke.

“Do you really think that’s funny, or are you just faking it in the hopes of seeing me naked?”

“If you’re going to be a cop in a small town, you might as well have a sense of humor. But yes, I am holding out some hope of seeing you naked,” he teased.

“Is that so? You often find women who mock you attractive?”

“Always,” he said with a grin.

“I think I’ve had too much to drink.”

“On the contrary, I think you haven’t had enough. I know how fast you metabolize alcohol. I’m hoping that if they keep them coming fast enough I might be able to take advantage of you.”

I laughed and to my horror snorted before responding, “Honey, no one’s ever taken advantage of me, unless I let them think they did. You get me?”

Elijah shook his head, but his smile never wavered.

“No, I don’t get you. But that’s part of the appeal.”

“You should be careful which fruit you find yourself a-peeling.”

He laughed. “Wow. That has got to be the worst line I’ve ever heard. Now, I think you’ve had too much to drink.”

“Nah, I can be just this stupid sober, I swear.”

“Why don’t you eat something else? It might absorb some of the rum and keep you from getting sick,” he suggested.

“That’s not possible. By the time we get half-way home, I’ll be sober. Besides, why would I want to kill my buzz now? I’m rather enjoying it. It’s not often I find something strong enough to have this effect on me. Maybe it’s just because I’ve never tried this before. I haven’t had time to build up an immunity yet. What’s it called again?”

“Caipriinha. It’s rum made from sugar cane.”

“It’s good,” I said as I fished the lime slices from my empty glass.

“So, when does Alfred come back?” he asked.

“Three weeks.” I held up three fingers while I sucked on the lime.

“You know that looks dirty?” he teased.

“What? You never suck on limes in public before?”

“No, I can’t say that I have.”

After I finished with my gratuitous lime sucking, we got back in the Jeep and headed home. The warm evening breeze felt good against my skin, so I just laid back and enjoyed it. It was completely dark by the time we got home. Considering it was summer that meant it was at least nine thirty. Elijah walked me to the door and leaned in close. It took me a minute to figure out he was examining my eyes.

“You’re right, your pupils aren’t even dilated anymore.”

“Told you.”

He looked disappointed.

“It’s all right, Eli. You can still kiss me goodnight.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, I leaned in and pressed my lips very gently against his.

“Goodnight, Elijah,” I whispered against his lips.

“Night,” his voice was a little shaky.

I went to bed immediately after Elijah left, and fell asleep before my mind could come up with anything for me to worry about.

*****

I felt surprisingly good the next morning. After breakfast, I decided it had been too long since I’d just cut loose and danced. There’s nothing like being home alone and dancing around your house like an idiot. Besides, I had the perfect CD for the occasion. I am of the opinion that Michael Jackson is one of the most incredible dancers the world has ever known. He did for dancing what the wheel did for driving.

When I was cheerleading captain in high school one of my favorite things to do for a pep rally was to recreate the dance routines from some of his videos. I even have a few of the costumes still in my closet. I put on a black sleeveless bodysuit and cranked up the music. The only prop I took from the closet was my black gangster hat. I know every dance from every video that Michael Jackson ever made and over the years, I’ve gotten to be pretty good. He made what I liked to call “feel good” music. And that was the effect it had on me. It felt good to just dance and not give a damn what anybody thought about how I looked or who I was sleeping with.

I was a lot more upset about all that crap than I let on to Elijah and I needed to release some nervous tension. I straightened up a bit while I danced through some rooms, and in others I just cut loose. By the time I’d worked up a really good sweat about an hour and a half later, I heard a knock at the front door. Since I was moon walking across the foyer anyway, I opened the door fairly quickly. There I found a very frazzled looking Richard.

Richard and I met about six years ago when I rescued him from one of his drunken werewolf colleagues in a local bar. Dr. David Kane was a newly turned werewolf at the time, and hadn’t known that losing his temper would bring on the change. Fortunately for Richard, Kane had flung a chair and knocked him unconscious before he finished his transformation. Richard walked away with a broken nose, and David went to anger management counseling.

Richard is around five-foot-nine, with gentle gray blue eyes and prematurely gray hair. At the moment he looked like one of those mad scientists from a cheesy old movie, with his nearly white hair sticking out at odd angles. Only his face gave away the fact that he was much younger than he at first appeared.

If ever I had seen anything bad enough to get Dr. Richard Stacey upset, it wasn’t a good thing. Like I said before, he was one of the most easy going people I knew. But looking at him that afternoon, it was no great mystery that he was bothered by something.

“Come in. Are you all right?”

He smirked and pointed at the hat I’d forgotten I was wearing. “You done The Thriller yet?”

“Oh.” I removed the hat. “Yeah that was about an hour ago.”

“So, who pissed you off this time?” he asked.

“What do you mean? Do I look angry?”

“No, but every time you break out Michael’s greatest hits, someone has really chapped your ass.”

“If you must know, there is a perfectly rational explanation for that,” I retorted.

“Do tell?”

“When I am faced with a situation I can’t see an easy way out of or something that is out of my control, I revert back to a better time and place. This music helps to take me back to a time when werewolves were something I’d only heard about, when I still saw some good in the world, and when people knew how to keep their fucking mouths shut.” I smiled sweetly.

“At last we come to the point,” he said. “I knew you were angry.”

“Forget that, it’s petty. What’s wrong with you?”

“Before I get started, do you really want to know the answer to that question?”

“No. I was just pretending like I cared.”

He looked shocked.

“I’m kidding. Of course I want to know, why else would I ask? Come on in.” I took a good look at him and added, “I’ll fix you a drink.”

Richard followed me into the kitchen and sat down with a heavy sigh while I took a bottle of chilled rum from the fridge. I looked at Richard again and took in the circles under his eyes and the fine tremor in his hands.

“You want this straight?”

He seemed to consider it for a moment, but Richard was not a hard liquor kind of guy.

“Better put some cola with it.”

I handed over the drink and took a seat opposite Richard while he launched into what proved to be one of the most unusual stories I’d heard in a while.

“Remember me telling you several weeks ago how weird things were getting at work?”

I nodded.

“Well, they’ve gotten worse. First of all, Mallory is one crazy ass bitch,” he said vehemently.

Richard wasn’t a saint, but for him to use that kind of language showed just how upset he really was. In regards to Mallory, it was understandable. Mallory was about six feet tall with a strong chin, manly voice, plain-Jane greasy hair, and built like a linebacker. Unfortunately, her personality wasn’t any more appealing than the rest of her.

“What’s going on?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Why don’t you start from the beginning? When did this, whatever it is, all start?”

“Well, it started a few months ago, at least that’s when I noticed it. Mallory has always been really unpleasant. Well, you’ve met her.”

“Yeah,” I said with a smirk. “And that’s putting it mildly.”

“So anyway, she gets worse, right? Then the next thing I know I start catching the brunt of her frustration.”

That pissed me off. I thought of Richard as an older brother and was very protective of him.

“Why, what did she do?”

“Well, I can’t directly prove she’s done anything except be nastier than usual, and unfortunately that’s not a crime. But, rumors have been flying about me lately and I’m so sick of it I could throw up.”

“Rumors?”

He leaned forward and I could see small veins becoming visible across his left temple. “They’re saying I’m fucking my students!” he hissed.

“What?! That’s outrageous!”

“Tell me about it. You haven’t even heard the worst of it yet. Apparently, the last time we took a field trip we were all having an orgy on a nude beach!”

I choked on my ice water.

“Oh, wait! It gets better,” he said nastily.

“You remember Lisa, right?”

Lisa was a friend of Richard’s. She was a former student who was now teaching biology at my old high school. Some of the instructors where Richard worked had done everything within their power to keep Lisa from completing her teaching degree. Lisa was an attractive African American female and it was the most blatant case of racism I’d ever seen. Of course that was all brilliantly covered up by the people in charge, but people like Richard knew the truth. People who knew the truth had a way of disappearing. Like another professor who was forced into an early retirement when he tried to make the issue public.

Mallory Monroe was one of the people who did her best to keep a diploma from ever reaching Lisa Johnson. Lisa had already been through two schools where the professors involved tried their best to ruin her reputation among the other teachers before she even began work. This was prior to finding her way to the quiet little school where she was currently teaching.

“Sure, I remember Lisa,” I answered.

“Well, I have it from a very reliable source, Mallory is spreading that I’m having an affair with Lisa!” His voice kept rising in pitch.

I didn’t know what to say, so I just started at him open mouthed.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he continued. “I’m doing all my students and my former students too.”

“Richard, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just being able to get this all off my chest is a big help,” he said this just before taking a massive gulp of his cola and rum.

“You might want something stronger than that.” He pointed at my water.

“Why?”

“Because now they’re saying I’m sleeping with you too.”

“What?!”

I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as my pulse raced with the injustice of it all.

“IT’S NOT ENOUGH THAT THESE SIMPLE MINDED BASTARDS AROUND HERE ARE SAYING I’M SCREWING EVERYONE THAT I SPEAK TOO?! NOW SOME JACKASS HAS TO START SOMETHING LIKE THIS?!” I roared.

I began to pace beside the kitchen table. If there was anything I hated more than ignorant people, it was ignorant people who didn’t know how to shut their mouths. I had never liked Mallory Monroe. Indeed, I didn’t like anyone Richard worked with, from the moron in charge, to the slutty secretary who was banging the entire faculty except Richard.

My blood pressure’s upward climb halted for a second when I looked back at Richard. He had gone a deathly shade of pale and his eyes were wide.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“It’s your, um ... your eyes. It’s y-your eyes,” he stammered.

In the six years I had known Richard Stacey it never occurred to me that he hadn’t seen me change. Although my transformation was only partial, it was still frightening to someone who was not used to seeing anything along those lines.

“I’m sorry.” I turned my head and made an effort to slow my heartbeat. I felt the burning behind my eyes begin to cool before I faced him again.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” I said softly.

“You didn’t, I mean—” He paused. “Well, yeah you did. But that’s okay,” he added the last part quickly. “I knew about everything ... I just—” He gulped.

“It’s all right, Richard. I’m not going to eat you.” I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice. I wasn’t angry with Richard. It was simply a disappointment to have someone else frightened to look at me.

“I’m not afraid of you.” His voice sounded stronger, and very clear.

I looked him in the eye.

“I’m a monster, Richard. What do you think of that?”

“I think I work with the real monsters. You’re just Lilith to me.”

“You really mean that?”

“Of course. How long have we known each other? I knew what happened to you. It’s just this was the first time I’ve ever seen wolf eyes in your face. I didn’t grow up with a dad who hunted werewolves, remember?”

He had a very good point.

“I’m sorry. Under the circumstances, I’d say you handled that quite well. But the question is: Do you want to see something really scary?”

He gulped again. “Like what?”

Richard was both a scientist and a self-confessed comic book nerd. I knew if anyone would appreciate the unusualness of my situation, it would be him.

“You’re a scientist, what do you make of this?”

As I stretched my right hand across the table toward Richard, I let my claws extend to their full length. They were at least six inches long, straight, and sharp as a razor.

“That’s incredible,” he breathed.

I could see he wanted to touch them. He reached out, but then pulled his hand back. Another professor he knew was a werewolf, so I assumed he was afraid of infection.

“It’s all right, I’m not contagious.”

“That’s right. I remember you saying you weren’t actually a carrier of the disease.”

As Richard turned my hand back and forth, examining the claws I repeated for him what Alfred said about my body mutating the virus.

“And this has never happened to anyone else?” he asked.

“It’s completely unprecedented. Besides, they gave up on the cure years ago. Nearly everyone who was vaccinated turned. No one had the reaction I did. It could have been the fact that the vaccine was injected into my system so soon after my attack. I guess it was just too late.”

“Wait a minute.”

Richard’s eyes lit up. I loved to watch him work. He was a scientist to the core, always coming up with fascinating theories about complicated or obscure things that most people overlooked.

“If almost everyone who was vaccinated changed, that means two things. First, the ones who didn’t turn had a natural immunity. That’s not that weird.”

“What’s the second thing?”

“Well, most people did change because of the vaccination. You had that shit injected directly into your blood stream less than thirty minutes after being brutally attacked. From the way you described the attack to me, I’d say a fair amount of werewolf DNA was already coursing through your veins.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“You were infected twice.”

His face said clearly that he understood the significance of this, but I did not.

“Sometimes people are attacked by multiple werewolves. Wouldn’t that count as being infected with each individual bite? That doesn’t make sense, Richard.”

“Yes, it does, and no that doesn’t count as a multiple infection. See, you were infected first by a werewolf, the animal itself. Then you were injected with a synthetic version of almost the same virus, meant to fight off the disease. You were infected separately with two different versions of the same poison, so to speak.”

“So what does that make me?”

“I don’t really know. A mutant of some sort?”

“Gee thanks, Richard. You really know how to boost a girl’s self-confidence.”

“It’s not an insult,” he insisted. “It’s a miracle. What happened to you should have killed you.”

“That may be true, but would it have killed a wizard?”

I then explained to Richard about my great, great, grandfather.

“When did you find this out?” he asked at the end of my story.

“A few months ago.”

He sat back and ran a hand through his prematurely gray hair and finished his drink.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Lilith. My knowledge of wizards is very limited. I didn’t even know of their existence until I met you.”

“Yeah, and I’m no expert.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that you don’t know much about them either, and I only know as much as you know. I’m really not sure if their actual genetic makeup is different enough to cause a mutation like that, or ...”

“Or what?”

“Or, if it’s magic.”

“I love good fiction, Richard. But I just don’t know.”

“You don’t believe in things you can’t see and touch? I know better than that. You believe in God, and love. What else would you call love but magic of some sort?”

“True enough, but you can feel both of those things.”

“You can feel God?”

“Of course. What else would you call a comforting touch when you’re in need but the hand of God?”

“I should never argue religion with a poet. You’re right though, I hadn’t thought of it quite that way.”

I poured Richard another cola and rum, got myself a beer out of the fridge and located a bag of pretzels.

“So what will you do?” I asked after a while.

“I don’t know. There’s really not much I can do. I don’t have any proof that she started those rumors.”

“That’s just wrong. There has to be someone you can complain to.”

“Nah, they all believe it.”

“Shit,” I said hotly.

“What it all amounts to is, my ass is chapped and they’ve cornered the market on chap balm.”

I laughed. “Nothing like standard issue sandpaper underwear.”

For the first time since he’d arrived I saw Richard smile.

“So what have you been up to?”

“Ah, not a whole lot,” I sort of stuttered.

“Oh, Lilith.” He sounded so disappointed, but I knew Richard couldn’t read my mind. “You’ve been toasting marshmallows haven’t you?”

I laughed. One of Richard’s favorite expressions was, “Don’t toast marshmallows over the fire that will most likely consume you.” I didn’t even bother denying he was right. I just didn’t offer any further explanation.

Richard stayed until late that afternoon. By the time I watched him drive away, he had calmed down significantly from when he’d first knocked on my door. At least he was in a better mood. It did me good to see him, but a few minutes after he left I started to feel more depressed than angry about all of the rumors that were circulating. I couldn’t imagine why people would say such terrible things about such a nice man. Richard was a sweet guy, but he was truly oblivious to a lot of what went on around him. He paid attention to certain people, like me. But that was only because we’d been friends for so long and he was interested to know what was going on with me.

If a student was interested in him, they’d have to show up naked at his office for him to take the hint. Subtlety did not work well with him. He simply didn’t pay close enough attention. Richard was very much focused on his work. He loved science. That was his thing and he did it well. He and Alfred were very similar creatures, but to have pointed that out to either of them would piss them off.

What bothered me even more was the fact that I was now a part of the whole sordid mess. I had never so much as thought of having any kind of sexual contact with Richard. He was like a brother to me. What was really insulting was the fact that people didn’t think either one of us was capable of being just friends with someone of the opposite sex. As I walked through the house and turned off the lights I came to the conclusion that I could worry about it as much as I liked, but it wouldn’t change a damn thing. It simply wasn’t worth shortening my life span over. I walked upstairs and decided a bubble bath was just what I needed.

*****

Bubbles were floating so close to the rim I was afraid that when I got in it might splash over the sides. I put a CD of some of my favorite R&B music in the small player that sat on my vanity and began to strip.

After lighting the vanilla candles spaced throughout the room, I placed the tip of my toes tentatively in the water. It was perfect. I had just stepped in when my heard a beeping noise. I stepped back out of the tub and went over to the toilet where the noise was coming from. It was my communicator. I must have dropped it there when I’d been so sick a few nights ago. Normally, I didn’t answer any calls when I was about to take a bath, but I was afraid it might be important. I quickly covered myself with a towel and pressed the button.

Chapter Five

Marco appeared before me looking concerned. I’m not sure who I was expecting to see, but it wasn’t him. Just looking at his handsome face made my heart jump almost painfully. He was lounging casually in the large overstuffed chair I’d seen is his apartment. From the angle of his image, he’d placed the communicator on the ottoman in front of him. For the first time I was truly appreciative of the fact that my communicator was capable of receiving color images. Marco sat before me in his red silk pajamas with the matching robe open to reveal his torso. I watched for a few moments as the rigid muscles of his stomach expanded and contracted with every breath. His hologram wasn’t as good as the real thing, but it was close.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Something must have been wrong for him to skip his usual flirtatious greeting.

“I’m fine,” I answered the miniature image of Marco that stood on my vanity.

He looked at me for a moment as if he were sizing me up before smiling slightly.

“So, what are you doing?”

“We’re going to have a conversation now?” I teased.

“Might as well. There aren’t too many other options for you and I.”

“I was just about to take a bath.”

“Please, don’t let me stop you.”

I carried the communicator, along with the smiling hologram of Marco and placed it on the rim of the tub. While I did this I said, “I thought you didn’t have a communicator anymore.”

“And what did you think I did with it?”

“Well, I just assumed you destroyed it. I mean, can’t they trace your calls?”

“Not if I know how to jam the signal.”

I almost asked him to close his eyes while I got in the tub, but felt it would be pointless. Besides, he’s already seen this show. As soon as the thought crossed my mind I could hear Marco saying, “Sometimes re-runs aren’t so bad.”

As I lowered myself into the hot water my skin tingled slightly. It was hotter than I normally liked it, but I needed to relax. My muscles had been tense ever since I had that awful vision of Marco’s injury. I curled up and rested my forehead against my knees.

“You sure you’re all right?” Marco’s voice was soft and concerned.

I looked up at him and answered, “I was sick a few nights ago.”

“But you’re fine now?”

“Yes. So, you can jam their signal?” I changed the subject. I didn’t want to share with Marco what my father told me about his attack.

“Yes. However, I still use this type of communication sparingly.”

“And this was an emergency?” I inquired.

“Yes, it was. I had to see that you were all right. A few nights ago when you say you were sick, you were suddenly screaming through my head. I didn’t exactly hear your voice, I felt you. You were calling out to me in a way I’ve never felt before. So, my question to you is: Why did you call?”

I rested my forehead back against my knees. I couldn’t look at Marco and lie to him.

“It must have been something I ate,” I mumbled.

“Is that really what you’re telling yourself, or just what you’re telling me?”

I groaned.

“Come on, Red. That was a good bit more than bad sushi.”

Finally I responded, “I had a bad dream ... a haunted vision. It would disturb you if I shared it and it’s something I’d rather not re-live.”

His image grew very still for a moment and his brow knit in concentration.

“Of the past or of the future?”

“The past,” I whispered.

“I guess you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

“I’m sorry, Marco. I just don’t want that in my head again.”

“I understand. There are a lot of things I’ve seen that I wish I hadn’t.” He sighed. “Red, I can’t leave you on a bad note like this. How was your visit with Sam?”

I was glad for the change in subject, but surprised he didn’t already know the answer to that question.

“You mean he didn’t tell you?”

“Sure. He reported back that you were safe and all was well. He also made it very clear he was not my spy and if I wanted to know more I could ask you.”

“I knew I liked him.” I laughed softly and smiled as I imagined Sam reporting to Marco.

“Would you care to elaborate?”

It was the way his smile reached his eyes that convinced me to give in.

I shared with Marco most everything. Of course I left out our intimate conversations about my life, and the fact that I’d seen Sam naked. Marco laughed when I told him about Kat meeting Sam. That also brought something to mind I had wondered, but was afraid to ask Sam.

“Marco, does Sam keep a harem?”

During my week-long visit with him, Marco had told me that Bade Garren used to keep a harem when he was still a member of the pack. Of course, not every pack member is allowed such a privilege. Bade was at one time Marco’s second in command, his beta wolf. Normally only the alpha keeps a harem, but it is at his discretion to allow his beta wolf to do so. Marco however, had refused to keep his own harem. He said that natural wolves mate for life and he felt it a shame to be more like animals than they were. I was eager to hear if Sam did the same.

“No, but he could if he wanted to. It’s a long story, but Sam doesn’t have a mate and he hasn’t had for the past ten years.”

I looked a question at his hologram and Marco answered, “He dates, but nothing serious.”

“You mean—?”

“He nails his pack members.”

To my surprise, it didn’t bother me to hear this about Sam. I was relieved to find I was not possessive of every alpha male I encountered.

Toward the end of my bath and our conversation Marco asked, “So, when does Alfred return?”

“A week, maybe less.” I sighed.

The smile he offered me was kind, but there was something else in his eyes, something I couldn’t make out through the hologram.

“Keep in touch,” he said.

I nodded.

“Goodnight, Red.”

“Goodnight.”

I felt better after talking to him. Once I’d dried off and slid between my red silk sheets, I thought that sleep would surely have no problem finding its way to me. However, I decided to meditate just in case. I didn’t want to end up having nightmares about Marco’s attack.

Once I entered the place in my mind where I could release my worries, I began to do so. Gradually, the key appeared in the lock of the elaborately carved door like it had every time before.

When I was safely inside “my room,” as I called it, I heard Mathias’ voice.

“You must have been a moth in a past life,” he said sarcastically.

I didn’t need to ask what he was referring to. Yes, I tended to play with fire when I shouldn’t. Marco was hot, and like a moth to the flame, I was drawn to him.

“I’m not going to stop talking to him, Mathias.”

“And I am not saying you should, only that you should make up your mind.”

“This from the man who was rumored to have had how many lovers?”

“That is beside the point,” he said indignantly.

“No darling, that’s exactly the point. Your blood flows through my veins. I am after all, the power of The Seducer in living form, am I not?”

“What is your point?”

“My point is that I’m too much like you to ever make up my mind so easily. So don’t go lecturing me about what choices to make.”

“Hit a nerve did I?”

“Yes.”

“You should know by now, child that I would never deliberately hurt you. I am only suggesting you might find it less painful if you saw less of him. But, if that is not what you want—”

“I don’t know what I want. But seeing Marco less is not on the top of my list.”

“You have little choice, my dear. You know what he wants.”

I also knew Mathias wasn’t referring to sex. Marco wanted things from me that I was not willing to give. Truthfully, I didn’t know if I would ever be. I wasn’t exactly in a position to be the full-time lover of an alpha werewolf, not to mention help lead his pack.

“Didn’t you know? I have a special gift for doomed relationships.”

“Something else you must have inherited from me.”

His voice was kind and it made me smile.

“It will get better right?”

“Yes. I promise.”

“I suppose there’s no point in just asking you what will happen, is there?”

“No. Besides, it would not help. If I told you what would lead up to certain events, there are things that you would change, for the worse. However, there are other things, that may nearly kill you, but you would not want to miss what will lead to those events.”

“Damn, I hate wizards. Never a straight answer.”

“You could not handle a straight answer.”

“Are you trying to scare me?”

“No, I am trying to protect you.”

“Indulge me. Answer one thing, just one thing, with a straight answer.”

“Fine, but you asked for it. Choose your question carefully, and be certain that you really want to know.”

“Should I break off all contact with Marco, is that what you are trying to get me to do?”

“No.”

“Then why would you even make that suggestion?”

“You said one question. I answered one question.”

I was silent for what felt like several minutes before I heard his voice again.

“To break off contact with him would be to kill a part of yourself that has just begun to live. This is not to say where your destiny lies nor what you should do.”

When I still didn’t respond he continued, “When I suggested that you see him less, I did not mean forever.”

“That’s all you ever had to say.”

“Learn to read between the lines.”

“Learn to speak in something besides riddles.”

*****

The next morning I found the blue button on my communicator flashing. Since I’d heard from Marco the night before, there were only two other people who might have left me a message. When I pressed the button, it was Alfred that appeared.

He said simply, “Check the transporter.”

Well, that was weird, but he didn’t appear to be upset. So, I took my time putting on my robe and a pair of fuzzy bedroom slippers, before making my way downstairs. Once I reached the lower levels of the house I noticed how empty and cold Alfred’s lab was without him. It looked the same as it always had, he just wasn’t in it. I walked across the vast room wondering if I should have chosen my question to Mathias more wisely. I asked the one question I wanted to know more than anything else ... and it hadn’t been about Alfred.

Lying in the middle of the transporter tiles was a single piece of parchment. Here, was written Alfred’s attempt at poetry:

I hear you moan in my sleep and your screams delight me.

I dream of flame, and drown in your fire.

Flecks of gold and amber descend upon my eyelids, and burn into my mind.

I long to awaken to amber flame on my pillow ... instead of this wig I’ve been sleeping with.

I burst out laughing and read the next few lines:

Just kidding. See you in a week. Love, Alfred

Even though the ending made me laugh, I had to admit it was good. Alfred was brilliant. It should not have surprised me that he could write poetry also. Then again, I had never seen that side of him before. When friends become lovers, we often find there is a great deal we do not know about one another.

*****

Kat came over the next morning for breakfast. While I made ham and cheese omelets she shared with me some recent pictures of Charles.

“I knew there was a reason you came by other than liking my omelets.”

As I gazed at the pictures she held up I had to say, he was every bit as handsome as Kat said he was.

“Unfortunately, his ass isn’t in any of these pictures,” she said.

“Well, damn. That’s what I was looking for,” I drawled.

I showed her Alfred’s poem, that I’d placed between the pages of my dream journal.

“Wow,” she beamed. “Romantic tendencies displayed simultaneously with a sense of humor.”

“He’s not gay, Kat.”

She just laughed in response.

After a few minutes of topic jumping Kat asked, “So, what will you do about everybody else?”

“What do you mean?”

She looked close to scolding me. “You know what I mean. I know what you said about the wolfman, but what about the cop?”

I sighed. “Kat, he knew this couldn’t be anything more from the start. Remember what I told you?”

“I remember, ‘not forever and always.’ But, I’ve never met a man who enjoyed wasting his time.”

“He’s not wasting his time,” I said defensively. “We’ve developed an excellent friendship.”

Kat stuck two fingers in her mouth and pretended to gag.

I laughed. “You choking on eggs?”

“No, on your bullshit.”

“Yeah? Well, it goes well with some syrup.”

“He could be dating anyone in town he wanted. Hell, anyone in the tri-state area.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that he may not like easy women?”

Kat snorted.

“Remember, men were hunters for thousands of years before modern life domesticated them. You can’t chase something that won’t run, Kat. And that’s half the fun.”

“Sounds like The Big Bad Wolf has rubbed off on you. Or has he just rubbed on you?” she added the last with a wicked smirk.

I chose to ignore her comment about Marco and stuck to the subject. “It’s true, Kat. Not every man out there is looking for a cheap thrill.”

“So, maybe it was expensive,” she joked.

I had to admit that for the most part, she was right. However, it isn’t fair to judge everyone by the same standard. When it comes to romance all men are not created equal. Some may have a wonderful sense of dramatic flair and passion, while they lack the good looks or charm to pull it off. Others may look better than chocolate to your sweet tooth, but they’re assholes underneath. And some are just dogs. However, when I catch myself thinking that all men are dogs, I am reminded that I’m not much better. Of course, that’s not what I said to Kat. What I told her was, “All men are dogs. It’s just a matter of finding the right leash.”

Her jaw dropped. Point for me.

*****

Elijah and I had already made plans for the weekend, but he called late in the week to confirm them. Before then we hadn’t decided on where to go. Elijah wanted to come up with something fun and surprise me.

“How long has it been since you’ve line danced?”

I laughed. “In a club? Never. The last time I did any line dancing was for a charity fund raiser in high school.”

“Think you’re up to it?”

It truly wasn’t one of the high points of my life, but I hated to turn him down flat.

“I really don’t know. It’s been ten years—”

“Oh come on. It’ll be fun. You can bring Kat if you want to.”

I hesitated. I may be from the south, but I’m not exactly the country western type.

“What could be more entertaining than watching a bunch of drunk cowboys try to dance?” he said with a laugh. “I’m just playing. There’s a really nice place a few hours’ drive from here. It’s not just a bar, it’s more of a dance club. They serve alcohol, but it’s not a bunch of drunks. What do you say, try something different?”

Country line dancing was so not my thing. But, I couldn’t think of a good reason to say no, so I agreed. I mentioned it to Kat and she came along too. Charles had to be out of town, so I missed yet another opportunity to meet him.

She came over early Friday afternoon to help me decide what to wear. I did actually own a pair of cowgirl boots, but I hadn’t worn them in years. They were black leather, complete with silver buckle around the ankle and a silver plate on the heel to attach spurs.

“Yippee ki yeah,” Kat teased when she saw the boots.

She was wearing a pair of tan boots with a matching sleeveless vest that she’d turned into a shirt and painted on jeans. Kat had curled her naturally wavy hair so that it hung in dark brunette ringlets to her shoulders. She looked like a real cowgirl, and I felt like a real horse’s ass.

After an hour of looking through everything in my closet, Kat opened the trunk full of my old costumes from when I was in drama years ago.

“Tada,” she said as she held up a pair of black leather pants.

I’m not sure what you’d call the fringe that ran down the outside seams of both legs, but it was made of strips of leather and normally found on chaps. She even found the matching hat.

“No way,” I said firmly.

“It’s perfect,” she said. “Just try it on.”

A short while later I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my bathroom looking like the villain from every old western. I had paired the pants with an unusual black top. It was sleeveless and made of that stretchy material that I never could remember the name of. Polyester that was it. The shirt dipped into a “v” in front, just enough to show some cleavage. A hint, not a full on tease. The ensemble was completed by my big black belt with the silver wolf shaped buckle.

Once I put on my makeup I turned toward Kat, put the hat on, and tipped it low over my eyes.

“Do you make an effort to look like the bad guy, or does it just come naturally?”

Before I could comment the phone rang. It was Elijah, and he was coming up the driveway. If I had any doubts about my outfit, it was too late to change. I consoled myself by thinking there wouldn’t be anyone there who knew me anyway.

“Ready?” Kat asked.

“I look like part of the female dance review for The Firestarter.”

“First of all, The Firestarter isn’t that classy. And second it’s not like anyone there’s going to know us anyway.”

“That’s what I’m hoping.”

When he wasn’t going to the beach, Elijah drove an old pick-up truck. Kat and I met him out front and he asked, “Which one of you ladies wants to straddle my stick?”

Kat started to raise her hand and I slapped it back down. To our discredit, we both giggled. Elijah had a way of bringing that silly, girlish laugh out of grown women.

“I’ll get in the middle,” I said, trying to regain my composure.

During the drive Elijah and I took turns flipping the channels on the radio and singing along to different annoying songs. Kat flipped some old man who cut us off.

By the time we got where we were going, I had to either get out of the truck, or beat someone over the head.

“What is wrong with you two?” I growled.

“Nothing’s wrong with me. He doesn’t know how to drive,” Kat said.

“Well, I could drive just fine if you could stop trying to drive from the passenger seat,” Elijah spat.

“Shut up,” I directed this at both of them.

People who were making their way to the front doors of the club were starting to stare at us. Just as I was thinking it was good that no one would recognize us anyway I noticed a familiar face in the crowd walking past us.

Lola turned and waved in our direction. I sneered back at her and she turned toward the club.

“Great, that’s just fucking great.”

They both stopped bickering and looked at me.

“What is it?” they asked together.

“You see that bitch right there?” I pointed at Lola’s back.

“Lola?” Kat said at the same time that Elijah answered, “Yeah.”

I turned to Elijah. “Well, she thinks that I’m screwing you, that I’ve kicked Alfred out of the house, and while I’m at it, I’m screwing Sam too!”

“That bitch!” This was from Kat while Elijah said simultaneously, “Who’s Sam?”

“He’s a friend of mine.”

“Are you screwing him?” he asked.

“No, I’m not. You know what else I’m not doing? I am NOT having this conversation with you. EITHER of you.”

I stomped off in the direction of the club.

“Where are you going?” they both asked.

“To get drunk. Who knows, I might start a fight so the night won’t be a total loss.”

Before I’d put so much as one foot through the door the bouncer stopped me with a large hand on my shoulder. He looked more like a muscular tree than a human being.

“Is there a problem?” He nodded back toward Kat and Elijah still arguing in the parking lot.

“The only problem here is you.”

“Come again?” His voice was deep and menacing enough to match the rest of him.

“I said that my only problem is you.”

“And how do you figure that?”

“You’re standing between me and the bar.”

He straightened to his full height and crossed his arms over his massive chest. He was tall with long black hair and pale skin. Tattoos covered most of his bare muscular arms. Sure, the guy was big and scary, but there was something else about him that gave me pause.

“Do they normally let werewolves be bouncers around here?”

His eyes grew wide, but otherwise the man’s expression didn’t change.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He sounded calm, but I knew better.

“Tell me cowboy, have you ever heard of Death?”

A cold sweat could be seen on his forehead and he visibly trembled for a second.

“If you have a point, you should be making it,” he said.

I let one long claw extend from the index finger of my right hand. Since I wasn’t tall enough to hold it to his throat, I pressed it into the front of his pants just enough to pinch.

“Lilith Mercury?” he whispered.

“That’s right, cowboy.”

“Have you come for me?” He sounded genuinely afraid now, and I felt like a jerk.

“Not tonight.”

“Then how can I be of service?” He gulped.

“You can get out of my way.” I jerked my head in the direction of the parking lot. “And if those two ever stop arguing, they’re with me.”

I retracted my claw and he waved me past with a barely audible, “Welcome to The Oasis.”

I made my way through the crowd and over to the bar. After a few shots of whiskey, I decided to have a look around. The large dance floor covered nearly all of the building. Up above you could see what looked like a second story of offices. Someone was probably up there spying on everyone below. To the left of the dance floor was a fake corral that had a mechanical bull bucking away with some nut trying his best to hang on. After you’d jumped on the back of a live werewolf, bull riding was nothing. It’s all in the hips, but I wasn’t drunk enough to demonstrate. On the far right side of the floor was a stage where a live band wasn’t doing too bad of a job. It wasn’t nearly the nightmare I’d expected. The atmosphere was actually pretty comfortable.

About the time that I was starting to feel really guilty for how I’d treated the bouncer Elijah sat down beside me. I ignored him and ordered another drink. I was surprised and disappointed in him and Kat. They were arguing like siblings. It was good to be an only child sometimes.

“I’m really sorry,” he said.

I continued to ignore him and gulped down my sixth shot.

“I acted like an idiot and I’m sorry.”

“And?”

“And I had no right to say what I did about Sam, whoever he is. It was none of my business.”

I remained silent.

“And this is the last chance I’m likely to have for a long time, maybe ever to spend time with you like this and I’ll be damned if I let it be ruined by your stubbornness, my pride, or Kat’s ass on her shoulders.”

Well, that got my attention.

A slow song started to play and before I could bring the next whiskey shot to my lips Elijah placed his hand over it.

“You’re going to dance with me, and you’re going to like it.”

He pulled me to my feet and I said, “I like a man with confidence Elijah, but don’t push your luck.”

“Didn’t you know? That’s how I get most of my exercise.”

Despite my best effort at sulking, I smiled.

He led me onto the floor and swept me into his embrace. When Elijah held me close, the world came into focus again, and as I looked into his deep blue eyes, I couldn’t remember why I’d been so upset.

“That’s better.” He sighed.

“Yes, it is.” I rested my cheek against his shoulder with my nose just touching the side of his neck. We danced this way for several minutes and I felt better than I had all night.

“If we ever do get a chance to go out again, remind me to not suggest bringing Kat,” he said.

“What was that all about anyway?”

“I have no idea. It was like getting in the truck with my sister.”

“I thought you and your sister got along.”

“We do, just as long as we don’t have to be trapped in a car with one another. When it comes to driving, she knows everything and no matter what I do it’s wrong. If I’m not driving too fast, then it’s too slow. I didn’t signal soon enough, or I signaled too soon I just—”

I kissed him until he stopped mumbling. I’m not sure what made me do it. It could have been the fact that I realized this was probably our last chance to go out too. Or it could have been the fact that he smelled so good.

“I’m sorry,” I said as I pulled back.

“Don’t be. I needed to shut up,” he said, smiling.

The next song was another slow one, and one of my all-time favorites: You look so good in love, by George Straight. Apparently, the band was taking a break and a DJ had taken over for a while. My opinion of The Oasis was beginning to improve.

As I held Elijah close I knew he realized the sparkle in my eyes was not for him. I cared for Elijah, but he was right about that sparkle. However, I also knew if Alfred didn’t get back soon that could change. Elijah wasn’t the world’s greatest dancer, but he didn’t step on me and he had a nice smile. Sometimes, that’s all it takes. The tempers that flared earlier in the evening were forgotten while we danced and for the next few hours, I had a really good time. We took a break to sit at the bar and I saw the bouncer walk past me toward the back. I excused myself for a minute and called after him.

He froze at the sound of my voice. There was a tension in his broad shoulders that made me feel even guiltier for the way I treated him earlier.

“You got a minute?” I called.

He turned to face me and I realized he was much bigger than my first impression had taken in. Maybe my bad mood had stolen some of his thunder. He had to be at least as tall as Alfred, if not taller. If I had to guess, I’d say he was around six-foot-ten.

“I wanted to apologize for the way I treated you earlier,” I blurted out.

He raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“My pissy mood wasn’t your fault. I had no right to threaten you.”

He just stared at me blankly.

“Are you listening to me?” I asked.

“Yeah. I just didn’t expect to hear Death apologize.”

I smiled. “Call me Lilith.”

“And I didn’t expect her to have a pretty smile.”

He returned my smile and I was amazed at how he could go from menacing to handsome with one simple gesture.

“My name is Mark.” He extended his hand in greeting.

Mark had a firm grip, it said he wasn’t easily intimidated and I liked that. He was the second man I’d met lately who knew how to shake hands with a woman. No soft grip here.

“Nice to meet you, Mark. I really am sorry about how I acted before.”

“That’s all right. It’s not every day I get felt up by a werewolf hunter.”

It took me a second to realize he was joking.

“You liked that huh?”

“Well I would have if I’d known you weren’t planning to cut anything off.”

“Relax. I’m not here to kill you or maim you in any way. And as long as you don’t go ape shit and start killing people, that’s not likely to change.”

“Well that’s a comfort,” he said sarcastically.

“It should be.”

I had sensed something else besides confidence when I’d touched his hand though it took me several minutes to place what I’d felt.

“You’re a member of Marco’s pack,” I made it a question.

“Yes. How did you know?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Does it have a happy ending?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I said. “Look, I should get back to my friends. I just wanted you to know I had no intention of jumping you in the parking lot.”

“That’s a damn shame,” he teased. “Seriously, thank you. I appreciate the gesture. Believe it or not, not that many people find me easy to talk to.”

“I wonder why?” My voice dripped with sarcasm.

Mark laughed and his deep voice was easy on my ears. I watched him turn and walk toward the back before I returned to the bar.

“What was that all about?” Elijah asked.

“Oh, I was just apologizing for something I did earlier.”

He looked shocked. “What did you do to the bouncer? That guy looks like he should be a pro wrestler!”

“I threatened him on my way in,” I said casually.

“You what?!”

“How do you think you and Kat got in so easily after making a scene like that in the parking lot?”

“You did threaten him,” he made it a statement. “What did you say?”

“I threatened to castrate him and told him that you guys were with me.”

Elijah shook his head. About that time I looked over and saw Kat on the mechanical bull. She was just about to lose her grip when the ride stopped.

“We should be going,” I said as I smiled at Elijah.

“Why?”

“Kat is shitfaced, it’s time to go.”

We glanced her way again and both of us laughed.

After we collected Kat from the corral we were almost to the door when Lola stepped in front of us. The look on her face told me without words she didn’t have anything nice to say.

“My goodness, you do work fast Mercury. First that Sam fellow the other day and now back to Mr. Jasper here.” She looked thoughtful for a minute. “Didn’t I see you groping the bouncer on your way in?”

I backhanded her. Before she could wipe that smug look off her face Lola was eating floor. Her nose was gushing blood and a few guys who had been standing off behind her stepped forward.

“You want some too?” I asked.

I held back with Lola. My strength was more than human and even though she’d asked for it, I didn’t want to permanently damage her. But these guys weren’t going to be so lucky. Any man who would jump on a woman half their size deserves what they get.

Fortunately for them, Mark stepped forward.

“Is there a problem?” The question was clearly directed at them.

“No,” one man stammered while the other picked Lola up from the floor.

She just kept staring at me, completely stunned.

Just when I thought we were going to be able to leave without causing a worse scene Lola broke out of her daze.

“You bitch!” she screamed as she lunged at me.

My arm was a blur as I slapped her open-handed back to the ground before she took a step closer. Judging by the look on his face, Mark was impressed. He made no effort to break it up. On the contrary, he seemed to be enjoying the show. Why anyone would keep getting back up is beyond me. You’d think she’d be embarrassed enough the first time. Despite my best effort to restrain myself, I’d hit her harder the second time. When she was helped to her feet that time, she walked away. Maybe Lola wasn’t as dumb as I’d thought.

Chapter Six

Mark escorted us to the truck and was sure to tell me with a smile, “Come back anytime. It’s not often you see a woman who can hold her own in a bar fight.”

Once we were safely on our way out of the parking lot Kat said, “Ooo, I think he likes you.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of.”

“Why? He seemed harmless,” Elijah said sarcastically.

“The last thing I need is another werewolf who likes me.”

Elijah swerved slightly as he and Kat said together, “A what?!”

“Mark, the bouncer, he’s a werewolf.”

I didn’t make eye contact with either of them, but watched the road instead. They were quiet for a minute before Elijah asked, “What do you mean another werewolf liking you?”

“You know, Sam and Marc – OH!”

I jabbed Kat in the ribs to shut her up.

“There’s that Sam guy again. Who is he anyway?”

“Like I said before, he’s a friend. He was visiting from out of town recently. It’s not my fault everyone in town was spying on me and got the wrong idea.”

“Oh,” he said.

We took Kat home first with Elijah promising to give her a ride to pick up her car at my house the following day. Kat lived a good thirty minutes away from my house. Once Elijah and I were alone together I didn’t bother to move to the other side, but stayed in the middle.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” he said softly.

“It’s all right.” I rested my head against his shoulder. “You can’t control other people.”

“No, but I can control me, and I was an ass.”

“Yeah, you were.” I laughed. “But, I got into a fight, so I really can’t cast stones.”

I lifted my head and smiled at him. “After you and Kat stopped arguing, and before I slapped Lola, I had a really nice time.”

Elijah’s smile lit up his eyes and I couldn’t resist kissing him again. Since we were at a stop sign, I didn’t have to worry about running him off the road. Elijah was a good kisser and I thought that might be my last opportunity to kiss him, so I took advantage.

“What was that for?” he asked.

I couldn’t speak. I didn’t want to tell him that I wanted to kiss him before Alfred came back. How stupid would that sound, even if it was the truth? Once Alfred was back, I planned to pick up where we’d left off. That wasn’t fair to Elijah, but he’d known my plans from the beginning.

After I didn’t answer for a few minutes he whispered, “It’s all right. I understand.”

“No, you don’t,” I interrupted. “I never meant to hurt you I just—”

“You haven’t,” he said softly. “I knew what I was getting myself into.”

I started to get misty eyed and turned back to face the road. We drove for several more minutes before Elijah tried to lighten the mood by asking about what happened with the bouncer. I recounted for him the whole discussion, including the part where I pressed my claw against the front of his pants.

“Ah, that’s where she got the idea that you were groping him,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“Lilith, this is off the subject, but I want you to know that I didn’t look that night we were kidnapped,” he blurted out.

“What do you mean, you didn’t look?”

“When Bade ripped up your clothes, I didn’t look,” he said.

During the struggle between Bade and I that night my leather catsuit had been ripped completely from my torso, revealing my breasts, and eventually winding up around my ankles during my attempt to escape Bade’s clutches.

“Then how do you know what happened?” I was half teasing, but Elijah was serious.

“I was getting my ass kicked pretty bad for one thing. By the time I realized all of my body parts were still attached, Alfred had taken off his shirt and covered you with it. Before that, I could hear you still fighting, so I knew you were alive, I just couldn’t get free to help. I felt so helpless. I couldn’t even save myself and I thought I could help you. Of course by the time I got loose, Alfred showed up and shot everybody, so what did it matter?”

He was so serious that I wasn’t sure how to respond.

“What exactly are you getting at?” I asked carefully.

“I’m just saying it’s no wonder you would rather date somebody like him.” He sighed. “I can’t even save myself.”

“Elijah I—”

“Don’t know what to say,” he interrupted. “I know. That’s because I put you on the spot and I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know how I feel.”

“You wanted me to know that you’re overly morose about something that was out of your control? Or was it you wanted me to know you felt worthless for not being able to single-handedly take on a pack of werewolves?”

He just stared at the road.

“Elijah, don’t feel bad,” I said as I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Most people would not have survived the night. You didn’t embarrass yourself.”

He sighed again. “I felt like I could have done more.”

“Well, you couldn’t. Alfred has a lot of years of experience. You couldn’t possibly have been expected to live up to killing a pack of werewolves. First, it’s not your job and second, you’re only human. Even Alfred is used to working with a partner. Don’t beat yourself up.”

When he didn’t argue the point further I asked, “Would seeing me naked make you feel better?”

He burst out laughing. “That was not the reason I mentioned this. I just wanted you to know I didn’t try to take advantage. I didn’t want you to feel awkward thinking I’d sneaked a peek.”

“Sneaked a peek? You come up with that one all by yourself?”

“Shut up,” he chuckled.

It was nice of him to mention it, but I honestly hadn’t given any thought to whether or not he might have seen anything that night. I was more concerned with my life than any modesty I might still possess.

Later, when Elijah walked me to the door, I hugged him tightly, but couldn’t bring myself to say goodnight. It felt more like goodbye, and I didn’t want to say goodbye. Finally, I pulled back and he said, “Goodnight.”

I just smiled. I couldn’t bring myself to repeat the farewell. Elijah kissed me softly and I let him. I was excited about Alfred coming back, but I was going to miss Elijah. Of course, I would still see him, but not like this. Why was nothing ever easy?

When he pulled back from me he smiled and I felt better just to see it. That smile reassured me without words that everything was all right.

*****

After I watched Elijah drive away, I went into the kitchen before making my way upstairs. Smacking Lola around had given me an appetite. Even though it was the middle of the night, I knew better than to let myself go hungry. I did not want to be sick a few hours later because I didn’t take the time to eat.

As I walked into the kitchen, I pressed the button to get my messages. I had one call of obscene noises immediately followed by a shrill laugh I knew belonged to Kat. She was one of the very few people I liked to watch get drunk. Maybe I found it so entertaining because alcohol didn’t affect me the same way. The next message was Kat apologizing for the first message and saying she needed Elijah’s number because, “I don’t want him here at the butt crack of dawn or anything.”

The third message was from Richard. He wanted to thank me for listening. He also said things at work had progressed to the point he felt he needed to seek legal advice on how to handle the situation. I felt bad for him, but there was really nothing I could do.

I looked into the fridge and thought how wonderful it would be to have Alfred back to do the grocery shopping. I’d made the effort to keep fresh fruit in the house since that’s my preference for breakfast, but I hated grocery shopping. Actually, I hated shopping of most any kind which made me really weird according to Kat. Occasionally, I did enjoy shopping to redecorate the house, or something along those lines, but that was about it.

I took out a bowl of fresh cherries and called Kat while I ate. After I’d eaten nearly half the bowl of cherries and hung up with Kat, I felt like I should call Richard. I looked at the clock and thought he might be asleep. Well, any normal person would be asleep, but not Richard. He was probably up watching some sort of sci-fi marathon. I should have called, but I was tired.

I put away the remaining cherries and made my way upstairs. The boots got kicked off as soon as I was in the door and I peeled off the tight leather pants on my way to the bed. Before going into the bathroom, I flung the balcony doors open wide to let in the breeze. The rain we had enjoyed recently had left the evenings cooler and the breeze that night was fairly strong. I turned my back on the balcony and snatched off my right sock. After taking a few more steps, I removed my left sock and let it stay where it fell. I left the bathroom door open while I hung the black hat on the end of the hook where my robe was and took a look in the full-length mirror.

I laughed when I realized every article of clothing I’d worn that night had matched, right down to my panties. As I stood there barefoot, in my black lacy panties and matching shirt I struck a dramatic pose and pointed my finger at the mirror.

“This is a stick up,” I said with a laugh.

“You have no idea,” a rough and recognizable voice drifted in through the open window.

I turned sharply, but didn’t see anyone. Quickly I walked out onto the balcony and looked over, but he wasn’t there either.

“Look up,” the voice called again.

There in the trees directly in front of my balcony sat Marco, perched on a limb. He was slightly higher up than I was, so I had to look up a bit to speak to him. There was very little distance separating that particular group of trees from the side of the house where my balcony was located. A werewolf would have no problem jumping that distance.

“Hello, Red,” he purred.

“What are you doing here?” I tried to sound stern, but I was glad to see him.

“I heard you had a little rumble this evening at The Oasis.”

At that point, it had been several hours since we’d left the club, so it was entirely possible he could have heard about it, but I still asked, “How could you possibly know that already?”

“When someone has the balls to threaten a six-foot-ten werewolf, people tend to take notice.” He smiled and my pulse raced. “The minute I heard about it, I knew it had to be you.”

“So, Mark didn’t tell you personally then?”

“No, the drummer from the band.”

“If he told you the story then you knew I wasn’t hurt, so why did you come?”

“You’re voice says you’re tired, but your eyes say you’re glad to see me,” he said softly.

The wind caressed my skin as it carried Marco’s deep sultry voice to my ears. I shivered as I recalled what he’d said about being able to hear my heartbeat. He stretched out over the branch on his belly, facing me. Marco moved with the grace of a big cat. It was both fascinating and unnerving to watch him.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“And you didn’t deny you’re glad to see me.”

The smile I gave him was lazy and involuntary as I replied, “We have to stop meeting like this.”

“Would you prefer to be meeting the cop?” He either couldn’t hide the bitterness in his voice, or didn’t bother to try.

“I’m not dating him.”

“Really? Well, according to the band, you were kissing him tonight.”

My temper finally flared. “I am sick to death of people spying on me. Did they tell you I groped the bouncer too? Yeah, that was fun.”

I turned on my heel and walked back through the doors as he called, “Red, wait!”

I slammed the balcony doors and locked them behind me. To hell with Marco, and to hell with everybody else. Couldn’t I just have a life anymore without everyone having to poke their nose in things?

I was already naked and about to step in the shower when I heard a loud thump and a tap at the glass on the balcony doors. How dare Marco jump onto my balcony?! As I stomped angrily back toward the door, I wrapped myself in a large black towel.

I flipped the latch and threw the doors open as I growled, “Exactly what part of piss off did you not comprehend?”

He looked really good. It was painful for me to be deliberately cruel to him. Talking to Marco like that brought me to tears. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt him, but that’s exactly what I had to do if I wanted him to leave. The problem was it hurt my feelings to say things like that to him. I ached to reach out to him, but knew that I had to turn him away. I was shaking. Hot tears slid down my cheeks as I continued. “How dare you spy on me?” My voice was a whisper.

“I’m sorry, Red.” He reached for me and I backed away.

“Not this time. You can’t show up here and apologize for this anymore. I’m not going to tolerate it. If I catch one more of your people spying on me, I’ll kill them. Do you understand me? I’ll kill them, Marco and it won’t be pretty.”

“I had no idea it upset you so much—”

“And it wouldn’t upset you?!”

When he didn’t have anything to say I took a step toward him.

“Let me show you just how personally I take things, Marco.”

My reflexes were as fast as his and I grabbed both his hands before he could stop me. Immediately I plunged into the surge of my memories, like diving into an ocean. I found every hurtful rumor and threw them into Marco. I wanted him to know exactly how it felt to be talked about and spied on like I had been, especially lately. I had always been a hot topic of conversation around town, but lately I couldn’t blow it off anymore. It had always hurt my feelings, but the more I found I was being watched, the more I took it personally. I stopped just short of revealing what was happening with Richard. That was his private business, and I’m sure he wouldn’t want me sharing it with anyone else.

But there was more I wanted Marco to know. I didn’t want him to think my cruelty had no price. Through my touch I let him feel how much it hurt me to speak to him the way I just did. I wanted him to know how much I wanted him to stay, but all of the reasons that were running through my mind that he should go. I relived everything I felt when I was with him and I let it flow into him. I recalled how it felt when I was with Elijah. I wanted Marco to know I was not in love with Elijah, but being near him had helped me to remember a part of myself I’d thought was dead.

He broke the contact suddenly and it rocked me on my heels.

“Don’t do that again without asking me,” he panted. “That wasn’t fair.”

“No, what’s not fair is you showing up and expecting me to just—”

He moved faster than I could see. His lips were on mine, hot, warm, and insistent. At first I struggled, but my heart wasn’t in it. Marco deepened the kiss and my knees felt weak. I melted against him. The heat of his body burned me through the towel and my nipples hardened in response. The full moon wasn’t far away. It was unwise of me to be near him so close to the change, but when it came to Marco my restraint was limited. He pulled back slightly, but his arms remained tight around me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t come here to argue, Red. Please, don’t make me angry. Don’t punish me for trying to protect you.”

“Is that what you called yourself doing?”

“Yes. That’s why I’ve asked people to watch over you, not spy on you.”

“Same thing,” I said.

Somehow I managed to pull away from him. I walked to the railing on the balcony and Marco followed me. He placed his hand in the small of my back. The warmth of his touch soothed me.

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” I said softly.

“I never said you hurt my feelings.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He moved closer and my hip brushed against his thigh. Maybe it was because I was barefoot and he was wearing shoes, but I could have sworn Marco was taller than I remembered.

“How tall are you?” I asked.

“Six-foot-two. Why?”

I gave him a confused look. “I thought you were six feet tall. Well, that explains why you always looked taller to me.”

“Oh, Red,” he said teasingly, “Did you read my bio back when I was with the Hunters?”

“I might have.” I smiled.

“I know you did, because they got my height wrong,” he said with a wink.

I laughed. “All these years I thought you looked taller in person.”

“Want to see what other measurements they got wrong?” He smiled his wolfish smile and I nearly said yes.

“I’d like for you to explain to me why exactly it is that you’re having me followed.”

Marco placed his hands on my shoulders and turned me to face him.

“I’m just trying to protect you. I never meant to invade your privacy. And I’m not having you followed, but if a pack member sees you somewhere, I like to know about it.”

I opened my mouth to object, but he stopped me with a finger to my lips.

“Please don’t tell me all of the reasons it isn’t any of my business. I don’t need any more reminders that you’re not mine to protect,” his said softly.

The pain in his eyes tugged at my heart, but there was nothing I could do about it. I placed my hand over his where it rested along the railing. Looking into his eyes was too painful, so I focused instead on his hand. Marco had nice hands. That was one of the first things I’d noticed about him. You can tell a lot about a man by looking at his hands. Marco’s hands were big and strong, and capable of as much violence as they were tenderness.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier about the cop, it was none of my business,” he said. “But it hurt.”

The last wasn’t spoken out loud, but through my touch I read his thoughts.

“I’ve never asked anyone to report the private details of your life to me, but when he mentioned that you were with someone, I pushed the issue. Because I was jealous.” Again, the last was heard only in my mind.

“It was wrong of me, and I’m sorry.”

He removed his hand from mine and caressed the side of my face as he whispered, “Don’t be mad at me, Red. It hurts too much.”

“Stop,” I whispered.

“Stop what?”

“Touching me, I can hear your thoughts.” I wiped at the involuntary tears that were spilling over my eyelashes.

But he didn’t stop touching me. Instead, he wrapped me in his arms and whispered, “I have nothing to hide.”

I pulled my arm between our bodies and reached up to run my fingers through his hair. “You should go.”

He sighed. “I should never have come.”

“So why did you?”

“I can’t stay away,” he said softly.

“I know.”

“I don’t want to let you go.”

“I can’t make you,” I said.

He smiled, but his expression looked pained. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? You can make me do anything you want, Red.”

“You should go,” I repeated.

“I know.”

But he didn’t let go. I rested my head against Marco’s chest and listened to his heartbeat as I said softly, “You can’t stay, Marco.”

“I know.”

I rubbed my face against the soft fabric of his shirt and breathed deeply of his wonderful scent. I was going to have to make him leave, and that was something I wasn’t sure I could do.

“Go home, Marco,” I said gently.

“I am home.”

I could still hear his thoughts and it was killing me.

“All right.”

“Let me go,” I whispered.

He stepped back slowly, trailing his fingertips down my arms.

“Goodnight, Red,” he said softly.

Before I could answer Marco swung over the balcony. He made no sound as he hit the ground and was gone before I could look over.

*****

I was glad he took off so quickly, because I could not have watched Marco leave. His slow walk down my driveway over a month ago nearly killed me. I didn’t have it within me to watch him walk away again.

After a few minutes I went back inside while I could still resist the urge to follow him. The shower that had seemed like such a good idea before was more like a punishment now. No matter how hot I turned the water it seemed cold in comparison to the warm flesh I could have been touching.

A morose funk settled over me and I decided a sleeping pill was in order. I dried off, threw down my towel, and walked back downstairs nude. I didn’t really want to take anything, but if I didn’t, I might not sleep at all. Turning Marco away had nearly killed me ... again.

As I entered the kitchen, I noticed my communicator sitting beside the answering machine. I’d been talking to my father earlier and must have left it there. He called ever so often, to check on me. No sooner had I noticed it, than the communicator began to blink. At this point, I was tired and still pouting over having to make Marco leave. I also completely forgot I was naked, and pressed the button.

Alfred appeared and the look on his face said how glad he was to see me.

“Hold on,” I said.

I walked into the sitting room and grabbed the gold velvet throw that was draped over the back of the sofa. By the time I walked back into the kitchen a minute or so later, it was wrapped around me like a big bath towel.

“What did you do that for?”

He looked genuinely disappointed and I couldn’t help but smile.

“I didn’t mean to answer the call naked. Sorry.”

“Well, it is the middle of the night there, isn’t it?”

“Close enough.”

It was good to see Alfred, even if it was only a hologram. I needed to hear his voice. I felt a weight lift from my heart and wondered if things would be better once he got back, simply because I’d be near him again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

“Nothing, I’m just tired.”

“That line might work on someone else, but I know you too well. You look absolutely depressed. What’s wrong?”

I crossed my arms in an effort to hold in some of what I was feeling. There was no reason to unload everything that was going through my head on Alfred. Besides, I couldn’t even begin to tell him what was really bothering me. I hadn’t even shared with Kat what the full extent of my feelings were toward Marco, because the truth was, I didn’t really know. I had to put him out of my mind, or I’d go crazy. Whatever the future might hold for me with regards to Marco could not be changed with worry and indecision. For the moment, I had no choice but to move on. I loved Alfred, there was no doubt of that in my mind. And he deserved to be loved completely, not a half-assed promise that I’d be faithful.

Whatever I felt for Marco, it was not love. I liked him, I really liked him. But love was something that took time, at least for me. And time with Marco was a luxury I had not been afforded. Until recently he was my sworn enemy, and though I thought better of him the more I knew, I was having difficulty reconciling the difference.

There was no way to sum all of that up in a way Alfred would understand. At least not until he said softly, “I miss you.”

That was it. Those were the words I’d been searching for.

“I miss you too.”

“It’s all right, whatever it is,” he said softly.

If he had suggested that I brush it off, or just get over whatever was bothering me, I’d have been fine. I was always prepared for anything but compassion. It was the one thing that could break me. Be angry all you want, yell, scream, fight, it doesn’t matter. Just don’t be kind to me, because my heart can’t take it.

Tears began to well up and I tried my best to hide it from him. I busied myself with pouring a glass of water but Alfred wasn’t stupid.

“I was planning to be back next Sunday.”

I nodded and faced the sink, keeping my back to Alfred’s hologram.

“Do I need to come sooner?” he asked gently.

“No.” I sniffed. “I’m fine. It’s just ... I really am tired and—”

“Are you sure?” he interrupted.

I turned back to face him and forced myself to smile. “I’m fine.”

Alfred’s concern showed through his smile as he replied, “I don’t believe you, but I’ll see you next Sunday, unless you tell me otherwise.” The smile faded with his last few words and his hologram leaned toward me as if that would bring him closer.

“Cara mia, do not hide from me,” he whispered softly.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to fall on my knees and cry. So much had happened in the past three months, so many things that I had no choice but to hide.

“I’m not hiding.”

“Perhaps not, but what I see before me tonight is only a shadow of the woman I left behind.”

Then it occurred to me there were some things I could share with Alfred. I could tell him about Mathias Alexander being my great, great, grandfather! But as soon as the thought crossed my mind I remembered who it was that told me about Mathias, and knew I would have to keep that to myself as well. I could have told him how worried I was about Richard, but he didn’t like Richard. I could have told him about Mathias, but couldn’t explain the situation without mentioning Marco, and that would never do. Of course, I couldn’t tell him about Elijah either. Oh hell, I’d just keep my mouth shut.

Finally, I decided I’d tell him half the truth. It was never my intention to hide anything from Alfred, but there were things that had transpired within the past few months that would have to remain secret.

“These past few months have been difficult,” I said. “I guess I’m just lonely.”

“That will shortly be remedied,” he said.

Alfred seemed to study me for a moment. As long as we’d known each other, I knew what he was trying to do. He was looking for a sign that I was lying to him. He was waiting for me to flinch, or turn away from his scrutiny, but I did no such thing. I looked him right in the eye with my most blank and weary stare. I was very glad that Alfred could not read my mind.

“All right,” he sighed. “If you don’t want to tell me that’s fine. I don’t have to know everything. But, I know you and you’re not just lonely.”

“Alfred, I have never lived alone, ever. For all you know, this is how loneliness affects me. How would you know otherwise? You’ve never seen me lonely.”

He seemed to consider my response for a minute.

“That may be true, but I’ve seen you with your heart broken before.” He smiled with a kindness I’d rarely seen, and a tenderness that I had not before witnessed. “Surely, it doesn’t break your heart to be without me.”

“Actually, it does. Just a little.” I smiled weakly.

“What do you need me to do?” he asked.

I took a deep breath and gave the matter some thought before replying, “I need you to hold me and say wicked things to me in Italian.”

“That I can do,” he said with a smirk.

“We shall see.”

I heard a bumping noise and Alfred turned toward a door that I could not see. He turned back to me with a smile and said, “I’ll see you next Sunday.”

“Buona notte,” I whispered.

He raised an eyebrow as he responded, “Yes, goodnight.”

After our conversation ended I took a sleeping pill and went up to bed. It had been good to talk to Alfred and perhaps once he got back, things would be better. It was never my intention to hurt anyone by spending time with Elijah, but I was afraid I had hurt him.

It was also never my intention to even really know Marco, let alone know him well enough to hurt his feelings. But part of that could not be helped. He obviously cared for me, and there was definitely something between us. I just wasn’t exactly sure what that something was. Since I didn’t have the time to find out, nor the ability to see the future, that gave me little choice except to let go as best I could and get on with my life.

But letting go of Marco, like so many other things in life, was easier said than done. The one thing I was certain of was what I felt when I looked at Alfred, and that had to be worth something. Once he returned, I was sure it would be easier to let go. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

*****

The following week passed much more uneventfully. Elijah called once, but I hadn’t heard from Marco since that night on the balcony. I fought the urge to reach out to him with my mind, just to know that he was all right. It took all week for me to resign myself to the fact that I had to let go of him if Alfred and I were ever going to have a chance. If I couldn’t do that, Alfred might as well not come back at all, and I missed Alfred.

*****

It was late Saturday night and I was in the training room practicing my technique with the new blades Alfred had sent me when I stopped suddenly. The most horrible feeling came over me and the sweat I’d worked up became cold against my skin. I sat on the floor and tried to figure out exactly what was wrong with me. I wasn’t injured in any way. Nothing hurt. But, I felt sick. I started to stretch, slowly lowering my heart rate while I racked my brain for an explanation to why I felt so bad. It was not unusual for me to feel someone else’s pain, but normally I had to be touching them in order to do that. So my theory was that whoever felt so bad, since it wasn’t actually me, must be very close to me emotionally in some way. Someone was trying to reach out to me.

I decided it was time to practice some of what I’d learned from Mathias. I stretched out on the floor, flat on my back, and began to breathe deeply. As my heart rate began to slow more and more, I reached out with my mind to those I cared for. I thought of Kat, and knew she was all right. Just as quickly as the thought had entered my mind, I let it go so I could move on to the next. I thought of my father. He was fine. Normally, he would have been my first thought, but my father could take care of himself. And besides, I had the impression that whoever might be responsible for the feeling I had was close by.

I sat up and started running for the phone only seconds before it rang.

“Richard?” I panted. “Richard, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer for a full minute and I was becoming more and more alarmed.

“Are you all right?”

“How fast can you get here?” His voice was faint, and it scared me.

“You’re still at work?” I knew the answer, but had to ask the question in order to be sure.

“Yes.”

“I’m on my way.”

Chapter Seven

I was dressed in the black bodysuit I normally trained in, and there was no time to change. Richard needed me. So much for not being seen in public wearing spandex. Quickly, I ran upstairs, jumped into my boots and strapped on the rest of my blades. In a matter of minutes, I was on my way to the garage at a full run. Richard hadn’t said what was wrong, but he didn’t have to. The fact that he’d called me so late sounding the way he did was enough.

Alfred’s vehicle of preference was parked closer to the house than mine. I opened the first garage door and took his key from its hiding place. Alfred drove an armor plated Hummer. It was black with silver accents, real silver accents. It was also loaded for bear with the largest amount of firepower I’d ever seen crammed into one vehicle. I knew how to use guns, I just preferred a blade. However, something in Richard’s voice told me I might be needing both. Lightning tore through the sky like the crack of an almighty whip. By the time I reached the end of the driveway, the bottom fell out.

Rain pounded down with a vengeance and I had to stop to find the switch that turned on the wipers. I had only driven the Hummer a handful of times, and wasn’t as familiar with it as I probably should have been. Hitting the wrong button in Alfred’s Hummer could be deadly. In fact, there was a switch underneath the steering wheel that if flipped, would launch grenades! Behind the seats, underneath the floorboard in a hidden compartment was where he kept the BFG, along with several other heavy artillery pieces.

The weapon was actually a modified plasma gun of some sort. It blew holes the size of a small crater in anything it was fired at. Of course, that didn’t do me any good. It was much too big for me to use with any skill. I had no clue what BFG actually stood for; I called it the big fucking gun.

Beside that there was another grenade launcher and a flame thrower. Alfred had removed what should have been a second row of seats in order to store more weapons underneath the floorboard. If I had time to remove it from the back, the flame thrower was plausible, but the others were useless to me when such speed was required.

There were smaller weapons back there, but I didn’t have time to look for them, or any place to conceal them. Going in guns blazing might not be an option once I got there. In all honesty, I had no idea what to expect once I arrived. All I knew was that someone had messed with Richard and that was a stupid thing to do. If he was hurt, I’d kill them. End of story.

The windows were dark enough to conceal any other weapons that might have been lurking about, and it was a good damn thing. Alfred looked like he’d packed to go off to war. I was driving around with more pieces of illegal weaponry than some third world countries.

Alfred was one of the Hunters who killed without mercy. If you were a werewolf, you were dead, period. When he took on a pack of werewolves back on Terra years ago, it made the news. He was described as having wiped them out, “as if he were fueled by the very wrath of God.”

In some circles I was known as The Silver Bullet, or Quicksilver (a play off my last name, Mercury). The lycans called me Death. But Death could be sweet, a release of sorts. And to those in misery, Death could be merciful. But Alfred was known as Vengeance. And that night, I had borrowed his truck.

*****

The drive to Richard’s office normally took an hour. I made it through the driving rain in forty-five minutes. I wanted to conceal my arrival as much as possible, but still have the truck in range in case I needed anything. I pulled to the back of the science building. Richard’s office was on the second floor. I didn’t drive directly into the parking lot, but pulled into the edge of the woods that surrounded the University.

I stepped out into the rain and was instantly soaked. As soon as I closed my door, a large shape darted past the front of the truck. Whatever it was, it was fast. I tore off through the woods, smacking tree limbs out of the way and slipping on wet leaves. Due to my genetic alterations, I could keep up with most anything. But a bigger animal with longer legs would unfortunately always have the upper hand. Much to my advantage, I knew those woods. I had spent many hours walking through them with Richard while he cataloged the local plant life for some of his classes.

I cut through a side trail as fast as I could. My boots slipped in the mud and I fought the urge to curse. The rain concealed much of the noise I was making, but the sudden appearance of foul language would definitely give away my position. The rain also helped to conceal the scent of the other creature that was tearing off through the woods. There was no way to tell for sure if it was a werewolf without seeing it.

At a full run I took a flying leap at a low-hanging tree branch and swung myself up just in time to be out of sight of whatever it was I’d been chasing. I blinked heavily against the downpour, focusing on the shadowy figure that had just emerged from the other side of the small clearing where I was hiding.

It was definitely a man. A very tall man. He was dressed all in black and his head was concealed by a hood that fit tightly over him. My muscles tensed as he walked underneath the tree I was perched in. The leaves concealed me very well and unless he looked up, he would never know what was about to hit him. I watched him look from side to side anxiously. He wasn’t stupid, he knew someone had been following him, but couldn’t tell where they had gone. I decided not to leave him in suspense.

I flung myself from the limb and tackled the tall stranger. I landed on his shoulders and wrapped my legs over the top of his arms, locking my feet into place against his sides. The momentum of my fall helped to carry me as I contracted every muscle in my body and flung him head over heels to the ground.

I landed on his chest with my ass in his face. Before he could react, I spun around to face him. As I’d slammed him flat on his back into the wet dirt and leaves his hood fell back. I was staring directly into the cool blue eyes of Bade Garren. Our last encounter had not been pleasant, and I wasn’t about to give Marco’s former beta wolf the chance to hurt me again. Before he could make a move I extended the blade that was strapped underneath my catsuit to my right forearm and pressed it against his throat.

“Easy, love. I didn’t come here for you,” he drawled in his thick Australian accent.

“Like it matters,” I growled.

“You wouldn’t kill me just for taking a stroll through the woods, now would you?”

“Stroll, my ass. What are you doing here, Bade?”

“Taking a walk.”

I was now straddling his ribs and I tightened my thighs painfully, as I pressed the blade close enough to pierce the delicate skin of his throat. A small trickle of blood ran down the side of his neck and mingled with the rain.

Bade growled as I squeezed harder with my thighs.

“You’re going to break my ribs,” he grunted.

I leaned forward, close enough to kiss. The rain that poured down my face fell from my lips to his as I said, “Just because Marco doesn’t want to kill you, does not mean that I have any hang ups about it.”

He flinched, but did not otherwise reply.

“Tell me why you’re here, Bade,” I said as I brushed my face against his, “or I’ll bite off your other nipple.”

“Bloody bitch,” he growled.

I pulled the soft skin of his throat between my teeth as I retracted the blade and pressed myself fully against him, bracing my body just in case I had to rip his throat out.

“Stop,” he panted.

“Why?” I asked thickly with his skin between my teeth.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

I growled and tugged on his throat. Not enough to seriously hurt him, not yet.

“Please, tell me,” he said.

That was unexpected. Not only had he asked nicely, but Bade actually said please. It wasn’t like him to beg. Bade Garren liked to be in control. It didn’t make sense.

I released his throat, sat back up, and gripped his ribs with my thighs once more.

“A friend of mine is here. He’s in trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?” He grunted as I squeezed him harder.

“I don’t know, but that’s why I’m here.”

He looked at me blankly and I added, “Are you going to tell me it was a coincidence that I drove up just in time to see you making a mad dash through the woods? I don’t think so.”

“It’s not a coincidence, but I don’t know anything about your friend.”

My hand was a blur as I unzipped the front of his jacket, quickly exposing his bare chest to the cold rain. There was something about Bade that made me want to torment him. I can’t explain it. I’ve never wanted to punish anyone else, not like that. In fact, I don’t even torture people. It’s not that I’m opposed to the idea if the situation is dire enough, but Alfred usually handles that sort of thing. There are some places I’ve simply never wanted to go. Remembering what it felt like to torture another living being is one of the places I had chosen to avoid. It’s just not a memory I’d ever want to have.

Maybe it was because I was touching his bare skin both times I experienced that particular feeling. I’m not sure. I knew Bade was into S&M, so channeling his thoughts was at least a plausible explanation as to why I wanted to hurt him. And it was easier for me to accept than the thought of such desires being entirely my own.

I smiled with satisfaction as I observed that not only had his nipple healed without a scar, but he’d had it re-pierced with another silver stud. I bent low over his body and watched his chest rise and fall. The closer I came to his flesh the quicker the breaths.

He cried out when I ran my tongue over his chest.

“I swear,” he gasped. “I don’t know anything about it.”

I hovered over his nipple as I responded, “Why don’t you fight back? Surely a big strong wolf like you isn’t held in place by someone as small as me.”

“I don’t particularly relish the thought of you breaking several of my ribs if I tried to throw you off.”

“It’s more than that.” I flicked his nipple with my tongue and he shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the cool rain.

“I want you,” he breathed.

His response shocked me so that I completely forgot myself. I sat on Bade’s chest and looked at him incredulously.

“The last time we met, I ripped off your nipple and you’re attracted to me?!”

“Extremely,” he said with a grin.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“How much time do you have?”

“Oh shit.”

I stood up quickly and began to march through the woods toward the building Richard was in.

“Where are you going?” he called.

But Bade was no longer my concern. I was satisfied that he wasn’t there for Richard. Beyond that, I didn’t care. His long legs caught up with me before I got far.

“What if I help you?” he asked.

I stopped and turned to face him through the rain.

“Why would you do that?”

“Well, once we hear from the council, it might not be your job to kill me anymore. Might as well be nice.” He shrugged.

Bade smiled, but his angelic features didn’t fool me.

“Look, I’m out of time for this. And whatever the council decides is irrelevant. I’ll most likely have to kill you one of these days anyway.”

I tried to walk away and he pulled me back.

“Then why didn’t you kill me back there? Why not kill me now?”

“Because you aren’t trying to hurt me or anyone else at the moment, and I don’t have time to fool with you.”

When I turned to leave again, I heard him take a step to follow me and I rounded on him.

“Bade, come to the point or I swear, I will hurt you in a way that you would not enjoy.”

He threw back his head and laughed. The pale gold of his hair clung to his face and neck. The small place where my sliver blade had nicked him had already begun to heal. With my eyes I traced the water that cascaded over his lovely features and tried to fight what I was feeling. I wanted Bade too, physically at least. Who could blame me?

Bade wasn’t handsome in the classical sense of the word. He looked like an angel. Not the fat little cherubs, but the warriors. The tall magnificently crafted cherubim of legend. He was the essence of sin, captured in the embodiment of heaven. What could be more appealing than the devil trapped in an angel’s body? He knew all the wrong things to do, and had all the right equipment to do it with.

“Once things have settled down, I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

Shit. I’d heard that line before. I didn’t like where the conversation was leading.

“You and I have nothing to discuss.”

“Perhaps, but things change. Marco might not always be in charge.”

My heart beat faster at the implied threat which was exactly what I needed to shut off my libido.

“Do not threaten Marco in my presence.” My voice was calm, which meant I was really pissed.

He ran a hand through his wet golden hair. “Easy love, don’t take it personally. Besides, you haven’t accepted his offer ... have you? I mean, that wouldn’t exactly go over well, would it? The daughter of the commander of the Hunters, cavorting with the head of the local werewolf pack.”

“I take any threat against Marco personally. The rest is none of your business.”

The instant I uttered the words I knew they were true, but it still shocked me to hear it out loud. I had just admitted that I would defend the safety of a man who only months ago, I’d been sworn to kill. Technically, I was still sworn to kill Marco. But like Bade said, that could all change very soon. Even if it didn’t change, I knew in that instant I would never hurt Marco. I wasn’t capable of it.

Bade was a different story. I would enjoy hurting Bade, and that was the problem. Just looking at him made me feel dirty, no matter how much rain washed over me. I felt like I could never be washed of the wickedness in his touch.

“If you’re not here for anything to do with Richard, then why are you here?”

“I’ve come for Dr. David Kane. Do you know him?”

“Yes. But—”

“What I do with him is my business,” he interrupted.

He was right, whatever business he had with David was out of my hands. I had another priority tonight.

“Fine,” I said as I turned my back to him again. “I’ll deal with you later.”

“It’s the full moon,” he called after me. “You might find my help more valuable than you think.”

“Why? Do you know there to be other werewolves in this building? You know, I can sense most anything you can. Nothing is visible from here, and this rain makes it impossible to pick up a scent.”

He smirked. “What about that?” Bade pointed to a huge footprint just ahead of me in the mud. The print was deep and fresh, and clearly not human. “You picking that up, love?”

“Eat shit, Bade,” I snapped at him through the downpour.

He laughed again as a frightening thought crossed my mind and I began to think out loud.

“Wait a minute. Why would you be offering to help me?”

“I thought I explained that—”

“None of Marco’s wolves would do this, that only leaves you and whatever followers you might have.”

“Now wait a minute. I told you, I don’t know what’s going on with that friend of yours.” He sounded angry.

“Then why would you be willing to help me? You wouldn’t attack your own people, and this is no doing of Marco’s.”

Bade placed his hands on his hips in frustration as he said, “I guess you’re just going to have to find out, because your guess is as good as mine.”

I thought it over for a moment before turning my back on him again. “Go take care of your business, Bade. I don’t need your help.”

I had barely gotten the words out of my mouth before I was tackled to the ground. A large werewolf smashed into my left side and was trying its best to tear my arm off. I felt its massive teeth sink into the flesh of my forearm. I extended the blade on my right arm once more and stabbed it repeatedly in the side of the head and throat.

No matter how hard I stabbed, the beast would not let go of my left arm. I fought to get my right arm between our bodies and began sawing off its head. Even when I’d severed its head, the werewolf’s powerful jaws were still clamped tight to my arm.

I looked up into the rain and could barely blink my eyes. Water bounced off my face so violently it hurt.

“Get this thing off me,” I growled.

Bade had stood by and watched the whole thing.

“I thought you didn’t need my help.” He flung the body off of me, even as he spoke.

I began to pry the jaws open and he stopped me.

“Let me,” he said.

I had to admit, it was difficult to force open a werewolf’s jaws with one hand. I flinched when the teeth were pulled out of my skin.

“Are you all right?”

“I’ll live. There’s a first aid kit inside the security office. It’s through the side entrance.”

I didn’t question him anymore. I didn’t have time. If werewolves were running loose in the woods, God only knows what had happened to poor Richard.

“What about this?” Bade held up the head.

“Bring it with you.”

I watched as he removed his wet jacket and tied the massive head inside it. I tried hard not to pay attention to what great shape he was in, but that was a losing battle. Bade straightened his back and water flooded down the front of his body, causing his rigid muscles to glisten in the moonlight.

I shook my head and started for the side entrance. Once we reached the door, I found it slightly ajar. I gave Bade a questioning look over my shoulder before entering. He shrugged as if to say he didn’t know anything about the door either. He might not be entirely trustworthy, but I believed him.

Once we were inside I turned to the left where the security guard could normally be found in his office reading a magazine or a sci-fi novel instead of patrolling like he was supposed to. The security office was open too, but that wasn’t unusual. He normally left the door open just a crack to see people come and go. Actually, he left it open to make sure his supervisor didn’t sneak up and catch him not doing his job.

I tried to think up a good excuse for bleeding all over the carpet before opening the door, and motioned Bade to stand around the corner. Shawn wasn’t exactly the most emotionally stable guy in the world. If he saw Bade carrying a large black jacket with a severed werewolf head in it, he’d most likely have to be committed.

I opened the door and found Shawn still sitting in his chair, but something wasn’t right about the way he was slumped over the desk. He was wearing a rain coat, so it was difficult to see the rest of his body other than his head. I touched his shoulder and turned him to face me. Shawn’s head flopped to the side, revealing that his throat had been cut almost to the point of decapitation. Not only that, but there was blood all down his legs. I didn’t even want to know where the blood on his thighs was coming from.

I took the other rain coat from the hook by the door and covered him with it. I liked Shawn, I didn’t want to see him mutilated. I positioned his head so that it slumped forward as before, covering his injury. To the casual observer he was asleep, covered with a yellow rain coat.

“You can come in, Bade. The guard is dead,” I called around the corner.

Bade’s broad shoulders filled the door. He placed the werewolf head beside the guard.

“Close the door,” I said over my shoulder as I looked for the first aid kit.

I found the kit in the cabinet behind me. It was too high for me to reach. I sighed dejectedly and Bade said, “I’ll get it.”

He looked around for a place to put the large case, then looked back to me.

“We’re going to have to move him.” He nodded toward Shawn’s body.

He was right. With the door closed there was hardly room for one person inside the office, let alone a very large werewolf, a dead body, and me.

Bade pressed his back against the door and I slid in front of him. From there I leaned forward, placed my hands on the sides of Shawn’s chair, and tried to ignore the fact that my butt was pressed into Bade’s thighs.

“You could have at least turned around,” I said.

Shawn was over six feet tall and around two hundred pounds. Lucky for me the chair had wheels. I pushed him into the corner underneath the cabinets and bumped his head in the process. I winced when he smacked the cabinet door.

“No worries,” Bade said. “It’s not like he’s going to feel it.”

I gave him a dirty look as I sat on top of the desk.

“This guy wasn’t your friend was he?”

He opened the first aid kit beside me while he spoke.

“No. But he didn’t deserve to be mutilated.”

“Very few people actually deserve such things,” he said. “You need help with that?” he pointed at my arm.

“No, I’ve got it.”

I raised up what was left of my sleeve and began to un-strap the blade over my forearm. I had taken much less damage because of the protection the blade sheath had provided. My arms were small enough that it had covered the entire top of my arm. The only injuries I’d sustained were some deep punctures where the werewolf’s teeth had wrapped over the blade and into my skin. To my surprise, the weapon wasn’t even damaged. Had it not been for Alfred’s gift, I might have had my arm ripped off.

I took out some gauze and disinfectant and began to clean the wound while Bade turned back to face the guard.

“You still looking for a sample of my blood?” I said sarcastically.

Bade didn’t respond. To my horror, he had lifted the rain coat I placed over Shawn and was inspecting the body.

“That’s gotta suck,” he commented.

“What?”

“Looks like someone cut off his dick.”

Bade had just confirmed what I was afraid of when I first saw the body. I didn’t comment.

“I can understand whacking the guard. That makes sense if you’re gonna break into the building.” He looked puzzled. “But why cut off the poor guy’s dick?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

I continued patching up my arm and tried not to look at the dead body of someone I was used to seeing with a smile.

“He must have really pissed someone off,” Bade joked.

I looked up from my arm. “You’re a sick motherfucker.”

He just smiled and re-covered the body.

Bade covered the space that separated us with one step and taped up the large bandages while I held them in place.

“How did we go from trying to kill each other to this?” I wondered out loud.

“How did you go from being Marco’s enemy to spending the week with him?” he asked.

I froze. Bade’s cool blue eyes gave no indication of what he might have been thinking as I responded hesitantly, “You know about that?”

“Everything with fur knows about that.”

I sighed. “I have no idea. But when I figure it out, it’ll still be none of your business.”

“I know this wolf.” He nodded toward the head on the floor.

“And you just now mention this?”

“Her name is Jenna.” He looked me in the eye again as he added, “And she’s one of Marco’s.”

“Great.”

When I stood up Bade had no place else to go, so he stood his ground and our bodies pressed together in what should have been an awkward moment. But it wasn’t. It seemed natural that we should touch, and in no way sexual. Casual physical contact was a natural thing for werewolves and the more I was near them, the more comfortable I became with it. Truthfully, I’d always liked to be casually touched. But the fact that full frontal contact with Bade didn’t bother me, bothered me.

We decided to take the stairs. Once I opened the door again to the security office, the staircase was just a few steps away. I closed the door on Shawn and tried not to think about what method might have been used to mutilate his genitalia.

Bade took the head with us and it dripped blood all the way up the steps to the second floor. When we reached the entrance to the next floor I turned to him.

“You don’t think David Kane is involved in this do you?”

“I don’t know, but I doubt it. Why?”

“Because if he is, I’ll have to kill him.”

“Your friend, he works here?”

“Yes. He’s a professor in the science department. His office is just around the corner.”

“You’re planning to just walk into his office?”

“What choice do I have? I have no idea where he called me from except that he was here.”

Bade indicated that I should lead the way. I opened the door and looked around. No one was in sight.

“I’m going to check his lab first,” I whispered.

The second story floor is completely tile. When Bade moved to follow me he slipped and nearly fell in the puddle of blood that had collected around his feet in the few minutes we stood by the door.

“Shit,” he growled. “Why are we whispering?”

“I don’t want anyone to know we’re here if they haven’t already heard us.”

“I think they’ll figure it out when they see the blood.” He indicated the trail the severed head had left behind us.

“Ah, screw it. You stay here and I’ll check the lab,” I said.

Bade nodded his agreement and I left him around the corner by the stairs.

I started toward Richard’s lab. It was down the hall, past his office, and to the left. As I reached the halfway point in the hall I saw Mallory Monroe coming from the direction of Richard’s lab. If she didn’t know what was going on, I wasn’t about to tell her. She often worked late, and there was the possibility that she was clueless as to what was going on around her.

As I was about walk past her she shoved me. I staggered back a few paces and just looked at her. She sneered in response. Mallory Monroe had to be one of the ugliest women I’d ever seen. She was six feet tall and built like a refrigerator with appendages. If it weren’t for her large breasts, I’d have sworn she was a man.

Her square chin jutted out as she spat, “Filthy whore.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Yeah, I heard you. But what the hell are you talking about?”

“You don’t deserve him.”

“Who? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!”

Mallory put her hands on her hips and glared at me. She was really starting to piss me off.

“That stupid routine won’t work with me,” she said nastily, “you’re not blond enough to pull it off.”

“Well, you’re a brunette, so what’s your excuse?” I smirked.

I really should have kept that comment to myself, but I couldn’t seem to help it. Oh, that set her off.

“I’m talking about Marco Barak.”

That got my attention. How the hell did she know anything about Marco?

“You’re a werewolf?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Well ... no.”

It was then that Mallory stopped trying to camouflage the otherworldly feel of her werewolf self and I felt her power spill over me. Not only was Mallory a werewolf, but from the taste of her power, she was alpha. It takes a great deal of control to cover up power like that. Mostly, the ones who are that powerful have the control needed to mask their power. Occasionally you come across what I call berserkers: werewolves of extreme power, but not enough control to mask what they are. Berserkers are animals in the truest sense of the word.

Then again, most people can’t sense werewolves, so they’d never know the difference unless they saw them turn. And even if they did feel that something was wrong, they wouldn’t know what it was. Most of the Hunters I’d worked with couldn’t sense if someone was a werewolf, they just went by how they behaved. However, such research was not necessary with me, I could smell them. Of course, I kept that quiet. There was no need for people to know I was half wolf. Alfred didn’t even realize the full extent of what happened to me. My father knew. He could sense them also, but in a different way.

Jacob Mercury was psychic to a great extent, but nothing to compare to a full blooded wizard. He just knew whether or not someone was infected with lycanthropy. He could feel it when he was near them. My father couldn’t see the future, or make rain fall from a clear sky. But, there were some things he just instinctively knew. I think he might be a Visionary, a psychic with the ability to see auras. He just kept it to himself.

In the moment that Mallory revealed her power to me, I knew what the fuss was all about.

“Where’s Richard?” I asked.

“He’s still alive,” she said.

“That’s not what I asked.”

When she just glared at me I continued, “So you started all of those rumors just to discredit me.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

“And poor Richard and his reputation were caught in the crossfire.” I shook my head. “You’re a vicious bitch, Mallory.”

She snarled. “I hated Julie. I won’t lie, I was glad when I heard you killed her. But I’m not about to be led by another skinny little bitch like you.”

Julie was Marco’s former alpha female, and I’d killed her a few months ago. She had helped Bade to kidnap Elijah and myself. If you ask me, the bitch had it coming.

“I haven’t accepted Marco’s offer.”

“Maybe not, but it’s only a matter of time. I saw the way that you marked him.”

“Marked him?”

She growled. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what you did! All those claw marks down his arms! The bite mark near his throat! I’m not stupid, those were not self-inflicted wounds.”

With those words Mallory succeeded in bringing to mind images that I’d been trying to forget. Even with an angry werewolf staring me in the face I was bombarded with vivid recollections of Marco crawling toward me through the hot soapy water of his large garden tub. I could still feel him, his hot skin burning into me through the wet silk. My heart fluttered, and I was possessed with the wicked notion to provoke Mallory.

“You’re right, they weren’t. But I’ve got news for you, even with me out of the way, you still wouldn’t be in charge.”

“And how do you figure that? With you out of the way, I’d be the strongest and most likely candidate.”

“Marco wouldn’t touch you with borrowed hands,” I taunted.

She growled, a deep and threatening sound that was not at all human. I watched as her hands began to change. The bones lengthened with a grotesque popping sound, breaking and reforming into massive claws.

Behind me I heard footsteps and knew that Bade was approaching.

“I wouldn’t do that Mallory,” he called.

It sounded like Bade was about halfway up the hall, but I wasn’t about to turn my back on Mallory to find out. If I had to have one of them at my back, I realized with a shock that I preferred it to be Bade.

“What are you doing here?” her inhuman voice asked.

The look of hatred on her face was unmistakable. If I had to guess, I’d say she hated Bade even more than she hated me.

He stopped beside me. “See, our pal here hates me because I wouldn’t do her either.” He gestured toward Mallory and she roared.

“Liar! I wouldn’t touch you.”

“Don’t believe her.” Bade smiled at me. He remained incredibly calm, as if there was not an angry werewolf transforming before us in the hallway.

“I hurt her feelings. She’s hated me ever since. Marco on the other hand, was a bit more kind in his refusal and she’s held on to some hope that she could weasel her way into his pants.”

For a minute I thought she was going to jump him, but then Mallory noticed the jacket in his hand. If it were me, I would not have wanted to know what was tied inside the jacket that had dripped a bloody trail up the hall and was forming a pool beside Bade’s large black boots.

“What’s in there?” she asked, gesturing with one of her clawed hands toward the bloody baggage he was carrying.

Without preamble, Bade gave the coat a jerk and the severed werewolf head flopped onto the tile floor facing Mallory.

“Jenna,” she gasped. “You bastards, you’ll die for this.”

Just then Bade and I both noticed what had fallen out of Jenna’s mouth as her head hit the floor. Lying there in a puddle of blood was a severed penis.

Chapter Eight

I covered my mouth to prevent myself from retching on the head. It’s best not to heave in front of the bad guys. Bade, on the other hand, had no such discretion.

“Son of a bitch,” he said disgustedly. “I knew you guys were desperate, but did you really have to resort to biting the peckers off security guards to get a little head?”

“That womanizing prick had it coming to him,” she growled.

“Womanizing? That mean he was doing everyone but you?” Bade grinned sarcastically.

With a mighty roar Mallory Monroe shed her skin in a violent effort to reach Bade. It looked as if an angry beast was clawing its way out of her human shell. I’d never seen such a violent transformation. Don’t get me wrong, it’s always violent, but not that bad. Her remaining skin fell to the floor and she lunged at Bade in her half wolf form. By the end of the night, she would be forced to become completely wolf, if she lived that long.

Bade grabbed both sides of her head in midair and flung her by the ears into the nearby wall. The bricks cracked with the force and pieces of concrete crumbled and fell into her dark brunette fur.

She got up slowly, shaking her head as if to be sure it was still attached. I heard the sound of bones cracking and clothing tearing behind me and decided not to look at Bade while he turned. I remembered what Sam had said about watching someone I know change and I didn’t want to go there.

I wasn’t attached to Bade in anyway, but seeing a beautiful man turn into a beast would not be a pleasant experience. As Mallory rose to her full height before me, I estimated her to be close to seven feet in half wolf form.

I extended the blades from both my forearms and braced myself for her attack when a large clawed hand wrapped around me from behind. I looked down at the werewolf hand that rested on my breast and glared at Bade. His fur was the same color as his ethereal golden hair and his eyes remained that frightening pale blue. He was the only werewolf I’d ever seen other than Sam whose eyes did not become amber with the transformation.

“Now is not the time to cop a feel,” I said.

“Let me handle this.” His voice sounded almost human still, but deeper and much more frightening.

Bade stepped in front of me and I was awed by his size. Bade Garren is a big man to begin with. He’s at least six-foot-three, but in his wolfman form he was over seven feet tall. Since I had the opportunity, I got a good look. His hands were enormous and still human in shape, though covered with fur and adorned with long black claws. Bade’s hands were not the only parts of his body that retained a human shape. In fact, the only parts that were clearly wolf were his head and his feet. In half wolf, or wolfman form as I often called it, the legs transform so that it appears a wolf is standing on its hind legs. From the knees up his powerfully muscled body still appeared mostly human in shape.

“Wait a minute.” I stepped underneath Bade’s arm. “If I let you fight my battles for me, then I’d be acknowledging your dominance.”

He looked down at me and I swear a smile crossed his werewolf face.

“Make no mistake, Bade, I submit to no one.”

“She attacked me first, so technically, that doesn’t count,” his deep voice rumbled.

I turned to Mallory who still looked dazed.

“Mallory, which of us are you challenging?”

“You,” she growled.

“See,” I said to Bade. “Step back, wolfman.”

This time his grin was unmistakable, but he took a step back. No sooner had he moved than Mallory flung herself at me. She was a big woman, and an even bigger werewolf. I couldn’t allow her to get me on the ground or I was dead.

I sidestepped her flying tackle and sliced open her right shoulder with my blade. She fell on the bloody trail that Bade had created on his way in and slid down the hallway. I ran as fast as I could in the opposite direction, retracted my blades, and grabbed one of the chairs underneath the window.

Mallory clawed her way back toward me at run on all fours. I ran for her like my life depended on it, because it probably did. As I got closer I held the chair above my head. Mallory’s reach would out do mine by over a foot, so I didn’t get close enough for her to take a swing before I made my move. At a full run I leapt into the air and slammed the chair into her head with a violence that would have made Alfred proud. The chairs that sat at either end of the hall were sturdy and covered with leather. It would take more than that to break them.

Since I’d managed to catch her off guard, I was determined to throttle her until the chair fell apart. I felt the rage taking over me. The beast I fought so hard to deny had once again emerged. Alfred’s vaccine may have prevented me from taking on the form of the beast, but it had not prevented me from becoming one. Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw the form that my beast took. And I never let myself forget it.

My eyes burned and I felt a rush surge through my muscles. Though my form had not changed, I knew my strength had. I was always stronger since my attack, but during fits of rage my strength took on superhuman proportions. Now we were on a level playing field.

My voice filled the hallway with a fierce battle cry as I slammed the chair into Mallory’s body. Over and over again I pummeled her until I felt the wood begin to crack beneath my hands. Blood oozed from the corner of her mouth and still I pulverized her with the heavy chair. A strangled yelp escaped her muzzle and I bashed her head into the tile floor. The skin peeled back from around her eye socket and some of her teeth hit the floor. The chair splintered to the point that I was holding what amounted to a club and still I beat her into the ground. I think I might have stood there all night if Bade hadn’t stopped me.

On a downward swing I suddenly realized my club was stuck above my head. I looked back and saw Bade’s large furry hand holding what was left of the chair.

“I think you got her,” he said.

In all honesty, Mallory looked dead. All that crap in the movies about werewolves turning back to their human form when they die is bullshit. A transformation requires life energy. And guess what you don’t have when you’re dead? That’s right, life energy. Whatever form you die in, you stay in. Some werewolves may change back before they die in an effort to spare their family the horror of knowing what they were. That’s the best way I could explain how that rumor got started.

Bade tossed the remains of the chair onto the floor.

“Let’s find your friend.”

It seemed strange to hear a still discernible human voice coming from a wolf’s face. In all the years I’d seen and killed werewolves, I’d never actually spoken to one in half wolf form before. It was a scary, but strangely entertaining experience.

We left Mallory’s body lying in the hall beside Jenna’s head and Shawn’s penis. Bade followed me to the lab, but Richard wasn’t there. Bade began to sniff the air.

“Stop it, that’s creepy,” I said.

“I smell something strange,” he said.

“Stranger than the werewolf carcass, the severed head, and the penis lying in the hall?”

His laugh was a strange and unearthly rumble.

“I smell …” He sniffed again. “A reptile of some sort.”

“Reptile?” I thought for a minute. “Mallory studies snakes. She has several in her lab.”

“Where’s that?”

“Just around the corner.”

We entered Mallory’s laboratory and I watched as Bade sniffed around the glass tanks where her snakes resided.

“That’s not it,” he growled and sniffed the air again. “Something bigger.” He paused. “Something poisonous.”

“Well, I can’t imagine what it could—”

“Lilith!”

I froze.

“It came from this direction.” Bade pushed past me, ducking in order to fit through the doorway.

We moved cautiously around the next corner and into the lab that belonged to the head of the science department, Dr. Bill Williams. There I found Richard, chained to the wall and bleeding from the head. I moved quickly toward him and checked the pulse along his throat.

“He’s still breathing.”

“Someone must have knocked him out when he called for help,” Bade suggested.

Seeing Richard like that took all the fight out of me. I just wanted to take him home and take care of him. I positioned myself underneath his arm and asked Bade, “Can you give me a hand with these?” I motioned to the chains that held Richard’s wrists above his head.

Bade stepped in front of me and grabbed the chains. It was at this inopportune moment that I noticed Bade was naked. I’d heard his clothes ripping from his body as he changed, but it hadn’t registered. I’d also seen him mostly from the back. And let’s face it, if you’ve seen one werewolf’s ass, you’ve seen them all.

Real werewolves also vary from the movie variety in the fact that they still have genitalia. Somehow in the movies they always manage to lose all male or female characteristics when they transform. However, the wolf who stood before me that night was clearly male, and I’d clearly taken notice.

“It doesn’t bite,” Bade teased in his deep werewolf voice.

I couldn’t help but smile as I responded, “You sure about that?”

He leaned in and looked at me closely with his hand still on the chains.

“What do you think ... honestly?”

Since he’d asked, I decided to give Bade my honest appraisal.

“I think it’s scary.”

He laughed, and again it was a bizarre sound coming from a werewolf.

“And what exactly is it that you are frightened of?” he asked.

“Are you serious? You could knock someone out with that thing.”

He snatched the chains free from the wall and Richard’s weight fell on me. Bade reached out and took Richard from me carefully so as not to scratch him.

“Don’t worry. I’ve never used it to hurt anyone.”

“Maybe,” I teased. “But if you hit me with it, I think that would still count as assault with a deadly weapon.”

Bade laughed again as I turned to look around the room. There was nothing overly remarkable about Dr. Williams’ lab except the chains that had been on the back wall. Indeed, there was nothing remarkable about the man himself, and I wondered how it was that Richard had ended up in Bill’s lab.

As I was looking around I heard a terrified whimper and knew that Richard was awake. Bade was holding him like a groom about to carry a bride across the threshold and Richard looked horrified. It was evident that Bade attempted to smile, but it came across more as a baring of teeth and Richard screamed.

“It’s all right,” I said, walking toward them.

It seemed Richard had just noticed I was in the room.

“That reaction never ceases to entertain me,” Bade rumbled.

“Is he a friend of yours?” Richard asked, staring wide eyed at Bade once again.

I knew that the enemy of my enemy was supposed to be my friend. But, Marco was no longer my enemy and Bade was not my friend. However, he wasn’t there to hurt me either. Thankfully he answered the question, because I couldn’t think of how to explain things.

“Tonight I am.”

Richard still looked pale, but his eyes didn’t pop out so much after Bade’s response.

“Can you stand on your own?” Bade asked.

“Let me try,” Richard said, obviously eager to get away from Bade.

Richard staggered a bit at first and Bade took a step forward for support. As Bade gripped his shoulders to steady him, Richard looked down. By the astonished choking sound he made, I knew exactly what Richard was looking at even before he said, “And now I know why you hang out with him.”

Bade laughed as I said, “Shut up, Richard. That goes for you too.” I pointed at Bade. “What happened here tonight?”

Richard looked scared again as he said, “We should get out of here.”

“Why? What else is here?”

Just then Mallory staggered through the door and I almost screamed along with Richard. She looked horrible. I’d beaten her much worse than I thought. Several teeth were missing from her battered muzzle, and one eye hung out of its socket. There were places on her shoulders and across the side of her face where the bone showed through the skin.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Bade take a step in front of Richard. Mallory sprung for me and my strike was a blur. It looked like I’d backhanded her. But, in one fluid movement I had released the blade on my right forearm and cut her throat.

She fell to the floor choking and gagging. I moved closer to finish the job and Richard cried out, “NO!”

“What? You don’t want me to finish her?”

“No.” He stepped from behind Bade as he said, “I want her to suffer.”

“Richard …”

“Let the bitch choke to death,” he insisted. He walked over and spat in Mallory’s mangled face. The sadistic gleam in his eyes was frightening. I hadn’t known Richard Stacey was capable of such hatred. But, if subjected to enough bullshit, I guess we all are.

I stood there staring in shock at a side of Richard I’d never seen before. Deep down, we’re all capable of violence if we get pushed far enough. But, I never thought of Richard as being the type for revenge. It sickened me to think what he must have been subjected to in order to provoke such a reaction out of one of the kindest men I knew. It hurt to see him like that. I knew what it felt like to realize the world wasn’t always a nice place. That people didn’t always do the right thing. Something told me this was Richard’s first taste of what true evil was capable of and it scared him.

“She tried to kill me tonight,” he explained while Mallory strangled on her own blood at our feet. “But he stopped her.”

“Who?”

“Bill.”

“Dr. Williams? Where is he?”

“Don’t look for him” Richard pleaded. “With any luck he’s gone.”

“Richard what—?”

“I’ll explain later. Take me home.”

Mallory jerked violently, and then stopped moving for good.

“Is there another exit?” Bade asked.

“Yes. Why?”

“Did you know the guard?” he asked Richard.

“Yeah, I did.”

“There are some things downstairs you might want to avoid.”

“Shit.” Richard sighed. “They killed Shawn?”

Bade and I didn’t answer, and I guess that was answer enough.

“There’s another side exit at this end of the hall.” Richard pointed behind him.

*****

On our way down the stairs Bade froze suddenly, causing me to crash into him, and Richard who’d been right on my heels nearly fell.

“What?” I asked.

“You hear that?”

I did hear something and it was growing louder. There was a fight outside and it sounded nasty. Bade moved to the small window on the door and looked out into the parking lot.

“It’s Kane,” he said. “And some wolf I don’t recognize, not in the rain anyway.”

“Bade, why did you come to see David tonight?” I asked.

“I should tell you some other things first,” he began.

“Why?”

“It’ll all make more sense that way.”

“We may not have much time before he comes back,” Richard insisted.

“You want to run out on that?” As Bade asked this a loud howl and some tearing noises reached our ears and Richard shook his head.

“I’ll be brief,” Bade said. “There are things you need to know while I can still talk, before the beast overtakes me.”

“I don’t even want to know what that means,” Richard grumbled.

“The situation you’re in is my fault, and I’m sorry. I never meant for things to turn out like this.”

“What things?”

“Julie wasn’t always so hateful,” he continued, “once upon a time she was a relatively nice person.”

I hadn’t expected for the subject to turn to Marco’s ex-girlfriend. Just the mention of her name caused me to sneer involuntarily as if a foul stench had reached my nose. I couldn’t seem to help it. I’m a pretty laid back person and normally willing to give people the benefit of the doubt. But, I’d instantly hated Julie, even before I knew who she was.

“What happened?”

“Even at such a distance for so many years, Marco could no longer hide what he felt for you.”

Bade paused and my heart seemed to have moved to my throat. I had no idea that Marco cared so much, or made what he felt so well known. I remembered him saying to me on the balcony, “I’ve got nothing to hide.” I guess he didn’t.

“He and Julie were friends, but she loved him. Marco on the other hand, saw some trace of you in her and that’s why he got involved.”

“What did he see of me in her? No offense Bade, but I hated that woman on sight. Do you see her in me?” I asked.

He looked me up and down appraisingly before answering, “Not really. But she was reasonably attractive and she had red hair.”

He reached out with one clawed hand and stroked my hair tenderly. To my surprise, I didn’t recoil from his touch, or try to stop him. I wanted his honest opinion on something that had bothered me ever since I’d first seen Julie. The fact that I was looking to Bade for honesty says exactly how desperate I was to have someone anyone tell me that I was nothing like this poor dead woman that I despised.

“She could never compare to this captive fire you have here,” he said softly, still stroking my hair. “Or to the fire I see in your eyes. If she was a substitute, and I believe she was, she was a poor one.”

I pulled back slightly. The way Bade touched my hair felt more intimate than it should and it was hardly the time or the place for intimacy. Bade glanced out the window as he spoke, “It got to the point that everyone knew how he felt. The humiliation was too much for Julie. Her hatred for you consumed her.”

“What made Marco finally break things off? I’m assuming that was his decision?”

“Yes.” Bade looked questioningly at me before he continued. “She poisoned your cat.”

Tears I hadn’t known I could still shed welled up in my eyes. It had been a year since my cat died. But, he’d been my companion and I would still prefer his company to most people I knew.

“That bitch killed Conan?” My voice deepened as I spoke, and the burning behind my eyes let me know they were amber. “I’m glad I killed her,” I snarled. “If I’d known, she would have suffered more.”

“I thought you’d feel that way. But believe me when I say the way you took her down could not have been more humiliating.”

I had to agree with Bade to a certain extent. I’d nearly beaten Julie to death a few months ago before breaking her neck in front of thirty or so members of the wolf pack.

“Get to the point,” I prompted.

“That’s when Marco threw her out. He said she’d lost her mind, and he was right. He didn’t put her out of the pack, just out of his private life. When I left, she followed. She couldn’t handle being demoted.”

“I thought she still served as alpha female to the pack?”

“She did, but not his mate.”

I looked confused and Bade added, “He was not kind to her after what she’d done. He waited until the gathering to announce publicly what he thought of her, and it wasn’t pretty.”

“What did he do?” I couldn’t resist asking.

“He let it be known that he was no longer in any way associated with her. He told the pack what she’d done to you and how that proved her to be mentally unstable. Then he announced that she would serve as alpha female only until such time as he found a replacement.”

“Damn, I was hoping for a flogging,” I said sarcastically.

“That’s harsh,” Richard said from behind me and Bade agreed.

“I thought this was going to be brief.”

“I’m summing it up as best I can,” he insisted.

“Bade, I wanted to know, it’s just that we don’t have much time.”

“Well, I would have chosen a better opportunity, but you and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms.”

“True. Go on.”

“I didn’t mean for you to be treated so roughly when you and the cop were kidnapped. That was her cousin with the baseball bat.” Bade did not maintain eye contact while he admitted this.

“It’s a shame she didn’t live to see him get his face smashed in,” I snarled.

“I knew you could take Julie, that’s why I set it all up.”

“Set what up?”

“You know what I plan to do.” It wasn’t a question.

I growled at him and surprised even myself with that reaction. It was a warning. I did know what he planned to do, and I would not tolerate discussion of harming Marco in my presence. With a pang of guilt I remembered telling Marco I was not his to protect, yet I was willing to take on a full grown alpha male in his defense. What I’d told him was true, but it had hurt me to say it.

“Let me finish,” he pressed. “My idea was that if you killed Julie then you could be Marco’s queen. And once I’d taken care of Marco ... you could be mine.”

“Son of a bitch. This is all your fault.”

“I didn’t know all the women in the pack would go crazy,” he insisted.

“What did you think they would do, cheer?”

“Actually, I thought they all fancied me.”

“A conceited werewolf?” Richard asked.

In spite of the situation I laughed at Bade’s reaction. Surely he wasn’t that clueless. But then a more sinister thought crossed my mind.

“What about my blood? Why did you want my blood?”

“Dr. Williams was one of a handful of scientists David Kane introduced me to. I imagine that’s why he called me here tonight.”

“That monster was working for you?!” Richard exclaimed.

“Not any more.”

“What were they working on?” I asked.

“A drug that would suppress the transformation. It would allow someone to keep the heightened senses, prowess, and strength of the wolf, without taking on the beast.”

“So, that’s why you wanted my blood, because I don’t transform.”

“Exactly.”

Bade reached for me, and once again I allowed him to touch me. “I’m sorry that I struck you. But you did draw first blood,” he said softly. Bade was referring to the last time we’d met. He backhanded me after I bit off his silver nipple piercing along with his nipple.

“I’ve got news for you Bade. I don’t take on the beast, I am the beast. Besides, that would just create a whole shitload of problems if you ask me. You’d have people wanting to be turned for the superhuman abilities, and trying to suppress the change at the same time.”

“Actually, we’ve already had that problem.”

“You haven’t actually tried the suppressant on anyone?” Richard asked.

“No.” Bade turned to me. “You remember those blokes who attacked a woman at The Firestarter several months ago?”

How could I forget having to take down a group of men who’d tried to gang rape a female werewolf? That’s not exactly common practice, even for an experienced werewolf hunter.

“Yes. I remember. They called her a monster and she was a werewolf. If they were wannabes then why would they—?”

“Because they thought they would be superior,” he interrupted.

“You lost me.”

“First of all, those were not my people. They hung out with Simon who used to be one of mine, but that’s not important. The deal is they were hoping Simon would turn them and they could suppress the change with the new drug that was being developed.”

“Oh, so they wouldn’t be monsters if they didn’t turn?”

“In their minds, yes.”

“They sound as crazy as Bill,” Richard commented.

“Well, he doesn’t work for me anymore. We found out he was using the blood samples from myself and some other wolves for—” He paused.

“For what?”

“I don’t know how to describe it he was—”

“Combining it with the DNA of other animals,” Richard finished.

“Yes. He’s a very sick man.” Coming from Bade, that was saying a lot.

“But why suppress the transformation?”

“So we could fit in without people knowing what we are. Without the council ever being involved.”

“So, you were against that idea, I take it?”

“Yes.”

“So, you guys don’t hang out?” Richard asked.

“The last time we saw each other he tried to kill me.” I gestured toward Bade.

“You bit my nipple off!”

“You bit his nipple off?!” Richard exclaimed.

“Yeah, why don’t you tell him about that?” Bade grumbled.

Before I could respond a werewolf face was pressed against the window. I didn’t recognize him in wolf form, but I knew his voice. “Let me in.” It was David. Bade opened the door and David stepped inside.

He wasn’t as big as Bade, but he was impressive. His fur was a darker golden brown and his eyes were amber.

“There’s too many of them,” he said. “We’ll have to turn back.”

“Am I the only one here who’s not hung like an elephant?” Richard asked.

Both werewolves just shook their heads and I asked, “How many are there?”

“Six. Well, five. I killed one,” David answered.

“What do they want?”

“You.” He pointed at me. “I had no idea all this shit was going on tonight.”

“Neither did I. Apparently, every alpha female in the pack who fancies themselves worthy of Marco’s affection has come out tonight to fight for it,” Bade said.

“Well, I had no idea that you were on his side.” I pointed to Bade.

“I’m not on anybody’s side. I was interested in the werewolf suppressant since I have such obvious symptoms of lycanthropy.” David gestured wildly at his physique.

“Fine. It doesn’t matter now anyway. Let’s head for the other side.”

I went back up the stairs and David followed me past Richard who was still sort of in shock. After bolting the door shut, Bade stepped over to the foot of the stairs. He was on eye level with Richard who was several steps up.

“No worries mate.” He put his arm around Richard and pointed at me. “She’s not hung like an elephant.”

David and I both snickered, but Richard looked horrified. Bade walked past Richard and patted him good naturedly on the back.

“You called me about Dr. Williams?” Bade asked David.

“Yes. I found out he’d been experimenting with Dr. Monroe’s snakes.”

“Sick. Who was he experimenting on?” I asked.

“Himself,” Richard answered. “That reminds me—”

He took off toward his own lab and reemerged with a can of gasoline as the rest of us rounded the corner. Careful to avoid the bloody smears across the tile, Richard made his way into Mallory’s lab. The rest of us followed. As we walked in Richard was leaning over the various tanks and dousing the snakes in gasoline.

“I hate snakes,” he said disgustedly as he took a match from her desk and set fire to the lot.

Bade was there instantly with a fire extinguisher. He had some difficulty maneuvering the handle with his enormous hands, but shortly began to put out the flames as he asked, “Are you crazy? If the fire alarm goes off the police will come. That’s all we need. There are werewolf carcasses on the grounds, remember?”

But the snakes were still burnt to a crisp, so Richard seemed satisfied. As we made our way back down the hall Richard looked around wide eyed at the carnage. I tried to steer him around the severed head and its surrounding gore, but I wasn’t fast enough.

“Is that a—? Oh my, God.”

Richard fell to his knees and heaved violently into a large plant sitting in the hall. Bade propped on the wall beside him.

“Sorry mate. I tried to spare you, but those crazy bitches outside gave us no choice.”

“I appreciate it,” Richard wheezed.

Bade extended one clawed hand. “Name’s, Bade Garren. I take it you’ve met Dr. Kane?”

Richard nodded and accepted the hand as he got to his feet.

“Richard Stacey,” he replied.

“Thought I might as well introduce myself, since you’ve seen me naked and all.” Bade shrugged and it looked awkward on a werewolf. Richard smirked and in spite of everything I think he felt better.

However, once he turned around he was careful not to look down again, but moved around the mess in the floor by touching his way along the wall.

“What’s up with the dick in the floor?” David asked.

Richard rolled his eyes at him. “Thanks a lot David. I was trying to avoid that subject.”

“What? You see a dick in the floor and you’re not allowed to ask questions?”

“The security guard was mutilated,” Bade informed him.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. It was Jenna and Mallory’s doing.”

“Figures. Is that why you cut her head off?” David asked.

“Not me, mate.” Bade pointed in my direction as David said, “My hero.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. “But I didn’t do it in his defense.”

“Is there anyone else in the building?” I asked Richard once he’d made his way around the gore.

He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I saw John’s car earlier, and I thought I heard Taylor.”

“Keith Taylor?” David asked. “What’s he doing here this time of night?”

“Probably helping another student get a scholarship,” Richard said nastily.

Chapter Nine

Just as we reached the door at the end of the hall we heard a thunderous noise downstairs followed by both male and female screams.

“Shit, they’re inside,” I said.

As we began to descend the stairs I asked, “David, will you help watch over Richard while Bade and I handle this?”

“Of course.”

“So, now you need my help, eh?” Bade asked.

“This is different. None of them are directly challenging me. Therefore, I am not allowing you to be my protector.”

“Smart little cookie,” he said with a wink.

“I’m not an easy catch,” I replied.

But my mind was no longer on Bade. I was looking through the slit in the door at two large female werewolves. The door to the security office had been swung open and they were in the process of disemboweling Shawn.

A third werewolf stepped in front of the door to the stairs and I kicked it into the back of her head with a roar. I pulled the long machete from its sheath along my spine and stabbed the werewolf through the back of the head as I jumped her.

While I did this, Bade took on the two who were further desecrating the body of the security guard just a few feet away. He reached through the door and snatched one out by the fur on the back of her head. The she-wolf snarled at Bade as he flung her into the concrete wall as if she weighed nothing. The impact reverberated down the halls. John Simmons was the head of security and he picked that moment to come by and check on Shawn. He came in through the door Bade and I had used earlier. How he managed to stroll across campus with werewolves on the loose was beyond me. He took in Bade with a glance. He was quite the spectacle all his own, but Bade was now holding a struggling she-wolf in each hand. Both were restrained by the hair at the nape of their necks.

Unlike the other guards on campus, John had a gun and he pulled it on Bade.

“What the hell is going on here?” he asked shakily.

“John?” He looked at me like he hadn’t noticed me before. “John take cover.”

I retrieved my blade from the back of the she-wolf’s head where she lay spread-eagled almost at his feet and John whimpered. I looked behind me and saw Bade slamming the two smaller wolves together as if he were playing some bizarre type of symbols.

He paused and looked at John. “Put the gun down, jackass.”

John shook so badly that he nearly dropped the gun on cue. I suppose hearing a werewolf speak would do that to someone who’d never seen one before. Let alone have it speak to you with an Australian accent.

“John, please!” I finally got him to look at me. “We think Keith Taylor might still be in the building.”

John nodded.

“Get him.”

He nodded again. Keith’s office was only three doors down and I saw no other wolves down the hall. I didn’t want to take a chance on him shooting Bade. It wouldn’t be enough to kill him, but it would be plenty to provoke him into killing John.

Bade let go of one of the she-wolves as he slammed her into the floor with such force that the concrete underneath the carpet cracked. As he turned his back to deal with the other wolf, the one on the floor reached out to slash the back of his leg. Without thought as to whom it was I was protecting, I cut off her hand before her claws made contact. She howled in pain as I leaped onto her body and put all of my weight into the downward thrust of my silver machete. It came out the back of her skull with a crunch and I twisted it while she shook violently. The body of the other she-wolf fell limp beside me and I looked up at Bade. He’d torn her throat out and his muzzle was covered with blood.

“Where’s the little man with the gun?” he asked.

I pulled the machete free with a wet slicing sound and wiped it on the fur of the fallen monster as I replied, “I sent him down the hall to get Keith Taylor, if he’s here.”

A low growl escaped Bade’s throat and he took a step forward.

“You can’t eat them,” I added.

He looked genuinely disappointed. As David and Richard emerged from the doorway to the stairs where they’d been hiding Richard blurted out, “Sure you can! I hate those guys.”

I gave Richard a scornful look as Bade said, “I like him.”

David’s large body had blocked much of what just happened from Richard’s view. Bade reached over and closed the security office behind us before Richard’s head could turn in that direction.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Now can I eat the man with the gun?”

“No.”

Before we rounded the corner to Keith’s office I heard a scream. We all broke into a trot and found John standing frozen with fear in the doorway. Across the desk were the scattered remains of what was once a woman.

Bade reached between us and wrapped his large clawed hand over John’s gun, “Give me that,” he growled.

John began to shake again and let go of the gun. Bade passed the gun to Richard, “Hold onto this.”

I wasn’t sure giving Richard a gun was such a good idea, but I’d rather him have it than John. David and Richard stayed in the hall while Bade and I walked through the front office into the nicer room it connected to. Something moved in the bathroom at the back of the office and we both heard it. I snatched the door open and had a blade at his throat before I recognized Keith Taylor. He was in his boxer shorts and t-shirt cowering in a corner.

“What happened here?” I asked.

He looked up at me with a confused expression. “Aren’t you Lilith, Richard Stacey’s friend?”

I didn’t respond.

“You won’t tell anybody about this will you? Finding me here, I mean? Melissa and I were just—”

“Melissa is dead,” I interrupted coldly. “And you’ve got worse problems than getting caught banging a student.”

Keith started to shake as he said, “Those things, they killed her? I saw them come in and I—”

“You ran back here and left them to her,” I finished. “You disgust me,” I said as I turned my back on him. Keith Taylor could rot for all I cared.

“Left your girl to be eaten by werewolves, eh? Oh, that’s top notch, that is,” Bade drawled.

Apparently Keith had not seen Bade before then. He screamed and closed the bathroom door again.

“Chicken shit,” Bade said.

I turned around and kicked the door open, breaking its hinges.

“Get up you coward.”

“What are you doing?” Bade asked.

“He’s still a human being. I’m not leaving him to the wolves like he did her.” I gestured to the other room. “Get up you piece of shit.” I kicked him hard enough that my foot should have went up his butt.

Keith shook all over, but he got up.

“Your death will not be on my conscience,” I hissed.

He looked at Bade and shook more violently. Bade refused to step back so that Keith and I both brushed against his fur on our way out the door. In his defense, it was a small space for a large animal. But I think he just wanted the opportunity to frighten Keith.

When we entered the adjoining office and Keith saw Melissa’s remains he went ballistic. He screamed and clawed in an effort to get past me and back into his office, but Bade blocked the door. I stood my ground and continued to push him toward the exit. Keith Taylor was about six feet tall and slightly overweight. His hissy fit made his bulk even harder to maneuver out the door.

When he scratched my face, I’d had enough. I backhanded Keith so hard he flew out the door. By the time he hit the floor I was on him and I hit him again.

“How dare you touch me you bastard,” I growled.

I felt my eyes burn back to amber once more as I pulled Keith’s face toward mine.

“Look at me,” I whispered menacingly.

Keith whimpered, but he looked.

“I’m trying to save your life. Do you understand me?” I shook him hard with my last words.

“Yes,” he cried.

“If your fat ass ever touches me again—” I looked at Bade over my shoulder and then back to Keith. “I’ll let him eat you.” I nodded toward Bade and much to my satisfaction he growled on cue.

As I rose to my feet again Richard exclaimed, “What’s that smell?!”

“Loverboy here shit his pants,” I answered as I gestured toward Keith.

“There’s one left,” David said. “What do we do now?”

“I need to get them out of here.” I motioned to the three men in the hallway.

“We’ll escort you to your truck. David and I can take care of the last one.” Bade looked around before adding, “And we’ll clean up.”

“All right,” I said. “John? You came in that way, right?”

He nodded.

“Then I’d say that’s our best bet. We can go through those doors and straight through the woods to my truck.”

As we stepped outside once more the rain pounded us relentlessly. It was difficult to see even a few feet ahead. It was also impossible to detect a scent and if someone remained very still, they could easily get the drop on us.

We had just reached the edge of the grounds when the remaining she-wolf knocked John to the ground in front of me. Bade reached forward and flung her off. Unfortunately, part of John’s throat went with her. Keith took off across the wet grass, screaming like a banshee and slipping in the mud. I watched the she-wolf gain her footing again before running after him. I also watched Bade and Richard step out of her way. Richard I could understand, but Bade could have stopped her.

“Hurry, while she’s focused on him,” David said.

“I know he’s an asshole, but he’s still a person,” I objected.

“That’s debatable,” Richard said.

“I say we cut our losses,” Bade suggested.

As he spoke Bade stretched out his long arms and herded us all toward the woods. Just as we reached the trees horrible shrieking and tearing noises reached my ears and I knew Keith was beyond my help.

We tore through the woods at a break neck pace Richard couldn’t keep up with. We stopped halfway for him to catch his breath and Bade dropped to one knee in the mud.

“Get on,” he growled, “or you’ll never make it.”

“You want me to ride piggyback through the woods on a werewolf?”

“Yes. Don’t expect me to offer twice,” Bade snapped.

“What are my other options?”

“Richard—” A howl cut through the night before I could finish what I was about to say and Richard climbed on Bade’s back without further objection.

Once we reached the truck and got Richard safely inside David assured me that he and Bade would dispose of any evidence of werewolves. As I went to get in Bade grabbed my arm.

“What is it?” I asked as I looked back to him.

He hesitated a moment before replying, “Tell Marco ... we’re even.”

And just like that he was gone. I didn’t know what to make of what he’d just said, but there was no time to think it over.

Once Richard and I made our way down the long winding drive, past more trees and buildings, we were left with only the sound of the pounding rain. I’d known Richard long enough that even if we rode the whole ten minutes to his house in silence it wouldn’t be awkward. But, I wanted to talk to him.

“How are you doing?” I asked.

Richard was taking a good look at the inside of the Hummer. He tapped the door. “Armor plated.” He looked in the back. “Heavily armed.” Richard looked back at me as he concluded, “You must have taken Alfred’s truck.”

“How did you know?”

“The minute gun attached to the wall was a give-a-way.”

I sighed. “Richard I’m sorry I didn’t reach you sooner. I saw Bade just as I drove up. Well, I didn’t know it was Bade. I tracked him down first thinking he might know where you were. Once we realized that neither one of us had a clue as to what was going on, a werewolf attacked me and—”

“It’s all right,” he interrupted. “I’m alive.”

“No, Richard, it’s not all right. I just found one of my best friends chained to a wall because he was unfortunate enough to be close to me.”

“Yeah. I was also unfortunate enough to have someone to call who could save me from those monsters. And unfortunately she interrupted Bill before he could inject me with something to alter my DNA too. You’re absolutely right. That was unfortunate,” he said sarcastically.

“He tried to inject you with something?”

While I drove Richard told me what happened. It was not unusual for several of the science faculty to work until midnight or later. About eleven o’clock Mallory had come to his office. She asked for his help with something in her lab. Being the nice guy that he is, Richard agreed to go, like she’d known he would.

“You’ve got to learn to say no,” I told him.

But, Richard belonged in an old western somewhere, singing a song and wearing a white hat. His reactions to Mallory and Keith that night had been the first time I’d seen him without the white hat. Richard was a good guy through and through and I knew it was just the stress of what happened that made him react the way he did. If I knew Richard, he’d feel guilty about it later.

As he continued with the story I was glad to have him close to me. Richard was like the brother I never had, and I couldn’t bear him being hurt because of me. I wanted to pull him close and say, “It’s all right. They can’t hurt you.” But it wasn’t true and that night had proved the point. He said Mallory pushed him to the floor after telling him why she’d ruined his reputation. She knew I’d come for him and wanted me to find him dead. But before she could put her grubby paws on him, Bill stopped her.

“You mean he asked her to stop?”

“No. He stopped her. You remember what I said about him experimenting with the snakes?”

“Yes.”

“Well, he’d been working with werewolf DNA. He found a way to extract the part that was wolf and replace it with the snake.”

“What did he do to Mallory?” I prompted.

“You know how she was about those damned snakes. She practically deified them. Bill had created a version of the virus that instead of ‘taking on the beast’ as you guys call it, he took on the serpent.”

“So, she fell down and worshiped him?”

“Close enough. All he had to do was ask.”

“Shit,” I said hotly. “Leave it to some sicko like Bill to create another virus.” I sighed heavily. “That’s what Bade smelled tonight. He said it was something big and poisonous. Wait till I tell Alfred.”

“When’s he due back?”

I looked at the clock. It was after five.

“Sometime today,” I answered.

Of course I’d leave out the fact that I had werewolf cooperation to rescue Richard. Especially considering who it was that had cooperated. Bade was number two on a lot of Hunter’s most wanted lists.

*****

I took Richard home, treated his wounds and was back on the road within the hour. He was lucky to have escaped with minor bruises and a small cut on his forehead. His emotional scars were not as obvious, but I’m sure they were there. You don’t see people ripped apart and walk away from the incident unchanged. I should know I’d seen it enough. It’s something you never get used to. At least I’d never gotten used to it and I took that as a good sign. If I ever got used to watching people be brutally mangled, it was time to seek a different line of work, and a therapist.

My wounds would all be healed within a few days. But I hated to greet Alfred like that. I’d wanted to be perfect when I saw him again. Any bruising, which if I had any it shouldn’t be severe, would be gone by noon. The scratch on my left cheek from that asshole Keith would be gone before nightfall. It was the deep puncture wounds on my left forearm that would take the longest to heal. Any injury I’d ever received from a lycanthrope had always taken longer to heal. I’m not sure why, and I tried not to think about it.

It would be around seven when I got home. I hoped I could at least take a bath before Alfred arrived.

*****

The minute I walked in the door I knew it was too late to take a shower first. The smell of rich coffee wafted in from the kitchen and I knew Alfred was home.

When I stepped into the kitchen his back was turned to me. I could tell by the rigid set of his broad shoulders that he was upset about something. Maybe it was the fact that I hadn’t been home when he arrived. But, something kept me from running to him. Something was not right.

“Hello, Alfred.”

As he turned to me I watched all the anger drain from his features. Damn, he looked good. Alfred was dressed all in black. The mock turtle neck he wore fit him well, complementing curves and muscles his usual attire did not reveal. The black slacks he wore were not tight, but they fit well enough that I wanted to see more. Alfred always dressed nice, but he also wore a lab coat to cover it up. I had to get him out of that lab coat more often.

He took a cloth from underneath the sink and dampened it. I anticipated his touch as I watched Alfred walk over and begin to wipe the small cut on my left cheek. I wanted to wrap myself around him and say how glad I was to see him, but there was something in his eyes that held me back.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” I said softly.

I could tell something was wrong, but I couldn’t imagine what. I’d expected to be embraced, not this sort of medical detachment while he treated my wounds.

“Richard was kidnapped,” I explained.

“What happened?” His voice was cold.

I recounted the story for Alfred, leaving out only that Bade helped me and that consequently everything was his fault. Especially since Alfred knew nothing of what had happened between Marco and myself.

“So, he’s all right?”

“Yes.”

“What about you?” he asked more softly.

“I’ll live.”

He turned around unexpectedly and went back to his coffee.

“I had a visitor this morning.”

“Kat?”

“Marcy.”

The instant he said her name I felt the hairs on the back of my neck bristle. That’s what wasn’t right. Marcy Johnson was our new neighbor, and I’d just as soon eat dirt as to look at her. The moment I’d first walked into the kitchen and found her flirting with Alfred, I’d developed an immediate hatred.

“I don’t ever want that woman in my house again,” I said coldly.

Alfred looked at me, but otherwise didn’t respond for a moment.

“That woman had some interesting things to share with me. “

Just the thought of Marcy sharing oxygen with Alfred set my blood on fire.

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that you’ve been dating Officer Jasper in my absence. It seems she was very surprised to see me here at all. Apparently, everyone thinks you’ve kicked me out and moved on to him.” His voice remained calm, but Alfred’s eyes burned with emotion.

“I cannot control people’s mouths. You know how bad this town gossips.”

“I do,” he cut in. “That’s why I’m asking you. Have you been seeing Elijah while I was gone?”

“Not like that, no.”

He put the coffee cup down and his hand shook. “Like how?” he growled.

“Like we spent some time together.”

“It’s true!” he yelled.

“We’re friends, Alfred. Kat even went out with us!”

Alfred turned his back on me again and I couldn’t stand it.

“How the hell did she even know you were back?”

“She saw me in town,” he answered quietly. “I went to buy some cherries.”

I loved cherries and I knew without being told he’d bought them for me.

“She asked me to go out with her tonight, and I’m going,” he blurted out.

Alfred might as well have stabbed me. It would have had the same effect as those words. I gripped the doorframe and bent forward slightly, placing a hand over my heart. I was glad Alfred’s back was turned. I didn’t want him to see how much he’d hurt me.

Before he could speak again, I took off up the stairs. As I closed the bathroom door I began to tear the catsuit away from my throat. I couldn’t breathe and I shredded the material as I stumbled and sprawled myself across the floor. I had to get a grip. But the room spun and as I pressed my face against the cool wood floor, I knew I was having a panic attack. Of all the things that could have happened, losing Alfred before he was ever really mine was not something I’d expected. And to that bitch?!

I had a vision of him touching her and I didn’t make it to the toilet. For at least ten minutes I threw up into the bathtub.

*****

After the waves of nausea had passed I decided Alfred would never know how much he’d just hurt me, because I would never let him see. And at the first opportunity Marcy would have an “accident.” But as soon as I thought it, I knew I couldn’t kill her simply because I hated her. For the first time in my life I wished I truly was a monster. Monsters have no conscience.

I cleaned out the tub, disposed of my shredded catsuit, and put away my weapons. A sort of numbness settled over me as I peeled off the bandages on my left arm and stepped into the shower. My wounds had already healed dramatically since I was attacked late the night before. There was only minor bruising and the punctures had closed over. By the evening they would shrink in size and within a week or so be gone without a trace.

But for the time being my arm hurt. However it was nothing compared to the pain in my chest. It all hurt, but I was too numb to cry. I was in shock.

After cleaning and redressing my already healing wounds, I dried my hair. As I stood before the mirror I noticed that the scratch on my cheek was only the faintest line. It might be gone before noon. It surprised me that I had the strength of will to put on makeup, but I’d be damned if he saw me without it. Not only did I want to look composed, but I wanted Alfred to get a good look at what he’d be missing.

After a few minutes thought, I decided I needed to thrash something. My black vinyl catsuit and an hour or so in the training room sounded like just the thing. Vinyl wasn’t exactly the best material to workout in. However, Alfred had commented more than once how good I looked in that suit. If he saw me, I wanted him to suffer. So what if the vinyl made me sweat a little extra? It wasn’t like I could go to sleep after what I’d seen the night before anyway. I’d go beat the shit out of my punching bag until I collapsed.

Food was the last thing on my mind, but if I didn’t eat I’d be sick again. As I walked into the kitchen I saw the spare key to Alfred’s lab on the counter and snatched it up. He was still in my house. No matter how I tried to hide it, I would love Alfred until I dropped dead.

He was mine and he’d be mine before he would ever be Marcy’s. Alfred would spend the night with me, even if I had to seduce him.

*****

I found the door to the lab unlocked. As I walked in Alfred’s back was once again turned and I took the opportunity to say my piece without having to look him in the eye. If he was going to turn me away, he was going to know how I felt first. My heart was in my throat, but I did my best to speak around it.

“You can leave if you want to.” I hesitated. “But I’ve loved you for too long to let you go without a fight.”

Alfred turned to face me and the surprise on his face was plain to see. As I looked into his dark eyes I knew my powers of seduction were of no use here. I wanted Alfred to stay because he wanted to, not because he’d been tricked into doing so.

“Do you care for her?” I pressed. My heart pounded in anticipation of his response. I wasn’t used to putting myself on the line so blatantly. But I had to know. If he cared for Marcy, as much as I despised her, I’d leave them alone.

He looked stunned but answered, “Non potrei mai amare una donna.” (I could never love a woman like her.)

“Then why go out with her? If you have feelings for me, why would you do that?”

“I’m not having this argument with you, Lilith. Why did you think I stay here, why I never go out?” He ran a hand through his dark hair and as it fell back against his forehead, I longed to lose myself in the silken feel of it between my fingers.

“I can’t pretend I’ve never noticed that you’re beautiful, but if you can’t see how much I care, why stick around?”

I took a step forward as I said firmly, “You can’t go out tonight, Alfred.”

“And why not?”

I walked over to the desk where he stood, but could not yet meet his eyes again. I reached out and took his big hand in both of mine, lightly rubbing the calluses on his knuckles.

“Because I won’t have these hands on anyone else,” I said as I looked up into his eyes.

“And where would you have them?” he asked, his face blank and unreadable.

I made a bold move and placed his hand on my left breast.

“I would have your hands on me.”

I felt my nipple harden under the warmth of his touch. He smiled at me with that lazy half smile of his.

“You might want me to wash my hands first.” The smile got wider. “I was in Jacob’s lab all day before coming here.”

I watched as Alfred washed and dried his hands before walking back to where I stood behind his desk. I noticed he had put the lab coat back on, and I wanted to snatch it off.

“If you’re planning on screwing my brains out, I’m a genius you know,” he teased. “This might take quite a while.”

“You talk like you think you’re good.”

He took another step toward me as he replied, “I am good.”

“I thought you were too involved with your work to have time for women.”

He smiled gently. “I’m a scientist, not a monk.”

Alfred stepped closer and began rubbing the nape of my neck, and running his fingers through my hair. As he bent down to kiss my throat I pulled back to take a breath.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“My heart, it’s beating so fast.”

He smiled. “Are you afraid?”

“Maybe a little.”

“But not of me.” He made it a statement.

I ran my hands inside Alfred’s coat and leaned into him, pressing my breasts against him.

“No,” I answered softly, “not of you.”

I held him tightly as I sighed. “This is nice. But it’s not ringing my bell.”

I turned Alfred around and pushed him back into the large chair behind the desk. He smiled and asked, “What are you doing?”

“Ringing my bell,” I replied as I walked over to the corner where Alfred’s stereo sat.

If there’s one thing we’ve always had in common, it’s our taste in music. A mix of Marvin Gaye’s greatest hits wasn’t hard to find. And it’s a good thing, because getting it on was exactly what I had in mind. As Marvin’s mellow voice began to sing, I turned back to Alfred. I would say I walked toward him, but that would not do justice to this “walk.” If a tigress walks toward her prey, then I walked toward Alfred.

He pushed back from the desk as I approached. Without missing a beat, I reached one slender leg across him. I stood straddling his legs, looking down at him as I unzipped my suit to reveal my throat, and went lower, partially exposing my breasts and upper abdomen.

I sat down on him and kissed his lower lip only. Alfred put his hands on my thighs, almost touching my butt and lifted me up as he stood. He sat me on the desk behind him with my legs still wrapped around his hips. We kissed for what seemed both a moment and an hour. Nothing pornographic, just a lot of nice gentle kisses. I slid the lab coat off his shoulders. He gave a shrug and let it fall to the floor.

I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed the feel of his powerful body near mine, his eyes, his lips, his face. I longed to drown in the deep caramel of his skin.

He reached out to touch the left side of my face and I brushed against his hand, the way a cat does if you pet it. As I did this I closed my eyes. I realized after a moment that when I closed my eyes, I saw through his. I was beautiful with my eyes closed, face pressed against his hand. My skin looked lighter against the contrast of the black I was wearing. My hair was so red, it was like a living flame. My lips were full and half parted, awaiting his next touch. My abs and breasts looked so firm and my skin appeared as cream beneath his gaze. I’d never thought of myself as beautiful. When I remembered my own opinions, I realized I was seeing myself not only through Alfred’s eyes, but as he saw me. It was as if none of my flaws existed.

Then I opened my eyes and saw from my own perspective again.

“Stay,” I said.

“Non ti lascero mai,” he whispered as his lips met mine once more. (I will never leave you.)

Alfred kissed me with a hunger that he had kept in check before and I felt my self-control begin to shatter. I wanted to take my time, but I’d waited for so long, that might not be an option.

Chapter Ten

I reached for Alfred’s belt and he stopped me.

“Wait.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Not yet,” he pleaded.

The look in his eyes said clearly that if I touched him he would lose what little control he still had. It was his pleading look that convinced me to keep my hands to myself.

Alfred rested his forehead against mine as he said softly, “Take me to bed, cara mia. I don’t want our first time to be in my laboratory.”

He had a point, and I thought the suggestion that we move to the bedroom was very sweet. Most men didn’t care where you had sex, just so long as there was sex involved.

I slid off the desk, deliberately brushing against him as I did so. “All right,” I said. Even though I had not intended to use the voice of seduction on Alfred I found that when I was extremely aroused, it naturally happened sometimes.

He gasped in response and I decided we should hurry. Alfred followed me upstairs and as we passed the kitchen he said, “Wait a minute. What time is it?”

I stuck my head around the corner and read the clock on the microwave. “It’s ten after eight. Why?”

He walked into the kitchen and snatched up the phone. I watched as he dialed Kat’s number, and could barely contain the urge to laugh. I knew what this was about and unfortunately, I could only hear one side of the conversation.

“Kathryn? Hi, it’s Alfred. I just wanted to be sure to let you know that breakfast will not be served this morning.” He paused and I couldn’t wipe the smirk off my face. “Yeah. You might want to give us a few ... days.”

He hung up before she had time to respond and I burst out laughing.

“That was mean,” I said, still laughing.

He swept me against him dramatically as he replied, “I’ll have no more interruptions.”

“Your place or mine,” I teased as he carried me out of the kitchen.

Alfred looked up the stairs as if a mountain stood before him and said, “I don’t think I can wait that long. How’s my room sound?”

He opened the door while I did my best to not rip his clothes off. In all honesty, I was a little bit afraid. Alfred was a big man and there was the possibility that he might accidentally hurt me. I’d waited so long to get my hands on him and once I had my chance, I was afraid. But, I wasn’t about to let that stop me. Alfred tossed me playfully across his king size bed and I quickly kicked off my boots.

“Stand up,” he demanded softly.

Alfred placed his hands inside the open zipper of my suit and peeled it slowly from my body. I rarely wore anything underneath my catsuit, and today was no exception.

He kneeled before me and took my injured arm in his hands. “What happened?”

“A werewolf bit me.”

His expression was pained as he replied, “I’m sorry. I should have paid more attention before. I didn’t mean to be so harsh.”

“It’s all right. It’s already begun to heal.”

He kissed my bandaged arm and said, “If I had been there, this might not have happened.”

“Or, you could have been bitten in the ass,” I teased. “And that would be real shame.”

“Would you like something for pain?” he said, smiling.

I decided it would be best to have no distractions from the things I planned to do to Alfred. “Yes.”

He retrieved some pain killers from the adjoining bathroom along with a glass of water. I swallowed the pills and placed the empty glass on the table by the bed.

“By the time we’re past the foreplay, those should be working.” He winked. “Now, where was I?”

Again Alfred knelt before me, and because of the difference in our height he was almost on eye level with my breasts. Alfred had always been careful not to touch me in an intimate fashion, even when he’d had the opportunity. Ever the gentleman, Alfred always controlled himself when a lesser man would have ravaged me.

But the time for chivalry was past and I hungered for him to touch me as a man touches the woman he desires. Alfred’s hands were warm as he ran them up my spine and pulled me against him, pressing his face against my bare breasts. He brushed his cheek against the side of my left breast and I could tell he’d shaved recently. Just the touch of his smooth skin sent shivers through me. He turned slightly and his lips hovered above my nipple. His breath was a hot promise against my skin that caused my nipple to harden, almost to the point of pain. My body wanted him to hurry, but my mind needed him to take his time.

Without warning his mouth closed over my flesh and I gasped. It seemed like an eternity since anyone had touched me that way. My desire began to burn like a fire left unattended. A forgotten flame that once rekindled, would consume us both.

I ran my fingers through his thick dark hair as I pulled him closer, burying his face against my breast. His hands roamed lower, over my buttocks and thighs while his tongue continued to fuel my desire.

With a trail of kisses he made his way down my abdomen. His hands gripped me from behind, lifting me to the tips of my toes as he pressed his face between my thighs. I cried out as his hungry mouth consumed me. His tongue was hot and wet as it roamed over my flesh, slipping between my labia, bringing startled gasps from my lips.

All coherent thought escaped me as I felt the tension building within. My toes pointed and my back arched as Alfred slid one finger inside my pussy. My muscles gripped him tightly and I fought to relax. If I didn’t I’d finish too soon and I wanted to savor this moment.

“Not yet,” I panted.

Alfred pulled back, but left his hand in place.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“My first orgasm is always the strongest,” I gasped as he moved his hand slightly. “The longer I can wait, the stronger it will be.”

He released me slowly and I nearly collapsed without his support. I sat on the edge of the bed and realized Alfred was still completely dressed. He kicked off his shoes and stepped closer to me.

I reached out to remove his belt and he stopped me again.

“Not yet.” His smile was a tease.

“I don’t know how much longer I can wait,” I purred.

Alfred didn’t reply, but pushed me back gently across the bed. The comforter was a lovely deep gold, almost a tan and the fabric was satin. He grasped the backs of my knees and slid me to him.

He went to his knees beside the bed and flung my legs over his shoulders. I thought to myself that this was torture. But there is no pleasure without pain and Alfred’s skillful kisses brought me to such heights of desire that it hurt.

My back arched and I fought for control. Not yet, I kept telling myself. Not yet. I sat up and growled as I grabbed his hair and pulled him away from me.

“Enough,” I said, and my voice flowed over him in a wave of heat.

Alfred snatched the tight black shirt over his head and cast it aside. I leaned forward and kissed him deeply, tasting my juices on his lips.

“So many nights I’ve missed this face,” I whispered against his cheek.

I kissed him like I couldn’t get enough. It was not lust that consumed me, but need. I needed to be touched, to be held, to be loved. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held tight, sliding along the comforter as he climbed onto the bed.

Alfred pressed his upper body against me and I moaned. His full weight would have nearly crushed me, and he was obviously aware of that fact. As he kissed along the side of my throat I arched against him, causing my breasts to brush over the hair on his chest.

“I want you,” I whispered in his ear. “Now.”

Alfred cradled my head with one hand and I heard him unbuckling his belt with the other. He slid out of his pants with a practiced movement that reassured me Alfred was definitely not a monk.

He pressed his cock against me, hard and ready, but stopped just short of penetration.

“Look at me,” he said softly, “and forget about whoever it is that I see in your eyes.”

“Alfred,” I pleaded.

I stretched upward to kiss him and he met my lips. Alfred kissed me deeply as he pressed his cock inside me, and I knew the answer to Kat’s repeated question. I felt my pussy stretch to accommodate his size and thought I would split in two.

He placed one hand between our bodies and began to gently work my clit.

“Relax,” he whispered, “or I’ll never fit.”

“You mean that’s not all?” I gasped.

Alfred looked back at my shocked expression and smiled.

“About half,” he replied.

He leaned closer to me and rested his face against the side of my throat as he said softly, “I won’t hurt you.”

His gentle touch and the feel of his body against mine were too much for me. But it was his softly spoken words that pushed me over the edge. Orgasm caught me by surprise. I felt my muscles convulse around him as he pressed himself deeper inside my pussy. Alfred paused to give me time to adjust before he moved again. My muscles seemed to be permanently clenched around his cock as wave after wave of orgasm flooded over me.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I held him to me as my back arched of its own accord and I screamed. My voice sounded as if it were torn between expressing pleasure and pain as I gripped the back of his hair tightly.

I pulled Alfred’s face from my neck and kissed him hungrily as I purred, “More.”

I locked my feet against the inside of his thighs and began to grind my hips against him.

“Easy,” he whispered.

“You’re not going to break me, Alfred.”

He cradled me with both his hands beneath my head and as he looked down at me I saw that his dark eyes were dilated with desire.

“I want you,” I said softly.

My voice flowed over him like silk, and this time it was on purpose.

“Tell me what you want,” he said.

“I want to touch you ... to feel you. To know you in ways I have not known.”

My voice was a velvety caress and Alfred closed his eyes when I spoke as if enraptured by the sound.

He hesitated a moment and with my hands pressed against his bare skin I knew his mind. Alfred was terrified that if he let go he would hurt me.

“No mere mortal can break me,” I teased silkily. When he still hesitated I bucked against him roughly and growled, “Take me now, Alfred. I want it hard.”

He moaned in response and I felt his self-control break as if it were a physical thing that had bound him. Alfred held me tightly and pressed his cock deeply into my pussy, allowing me a taste of what he was capable of.

“Yes,” I whispered.

I wrapped myself around him as I had longed to do and he picked up the pace.

“Pull my hair,” I urged.

Without hesitation he ran his hand through the hair at the nape of my neck and pulled it tight. As he did this, Alfred ground his hips against me and my mind went blank. I screamed, I cried, I think I even spoke Italian. I had never felt this way before. Perhaps it had something to do with the power of seduction I had recently inherited, I didn’t know. And I was beyond the point of reason. A hot and fierce wave of pleasure overtook me, as if fire flowed over my skin. But where the flames would have singed my flesh, they kissed me. The fire licked at me, testing my body before it consumed me.

I opened the channel in my mind that I’d opened before in order to share my feelings with Alfred and let my desire flow into him. My entire body convulsed around him as the fire at last consumed me. I heard Alfred scream, but I didn’t know what he was saying. I also had no idea what I was saying, but when I could speak again, I was hoarse. He collapsed against me and the weight of his body against mine felt good. I’d feared he would crush me and then felt foolish for the thought. Alfred was big and one could easily be intimidated by his size.

“Are you all right?” He panted as he wiped the hair back from my face.

“I’m fine,” I gasped.

My eyes wouldn’t seem to focus and my voice had a wonderfully intoxicated quality to it. Alfred’s expression as he gazed down on me said how clearly relieved he was that he hadn’t hurt me.

“You didn’t break anything,” I said, smiling.

He kissed me gently and my stomach growled.

“That’s not an objection.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked with a grin.

“Must be.”

He rolled to one side, careful once again not to damage me in any way, and looked at the clock.

“No wonder, it’s ten o’clock.”

He sounded as surprised as I felt. It was only ten after eight the last I’d looked.

“Time flies.” I smiled as I rolled toward him.

“You want to shower first, or do you feel sick?”

Alfred knew how my metabolism worked, and it was nice of him to ask. Surprisingly, I wasn’t the slightest bit nauseous, even though I knew it was past time that I should eat something.

“Let’s shower first,” I said.

I stretched catlike, my body arching so that my breasts brushed against his chest.

“That was incredible,” he said, as he pulled me against him.

“Thank you,” I purred.

He shook me gently as he laughed. “You conceited little bitch.”

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” I teased.

“That feeling that washed over me, what exactly was that?”

“It’s part of my new power.” I hesitated. “What did you think of it?”

“It went beyond orgasm. I can’t describe it.” He smiled wickedly and rolled me onto my back. “Do it again.”

I laughed and pushed against his chest.

“Get off me you pervert. I need to take a shower.”

Alfred rolled off of me with a smirk and helped me to my feet beside the bed. My knees were wobbly, but I managed to stand up straight and walk toward the bathroom. However, just because I could stand straight didn’t mean I could walk straight.

I zigzagged my way to the bathroom door where I propped and asked Alfred, “Give me a minute, okay?”

“All right.”

There were some things I just didn’t want to do in front of him. As I cleaned up a bit I heard a sudden knock at the door.

“Lilith.” He sounded anxious.

“I’ll hurry,” I said, thinking that he needed to use the bathroom.

“It’s not that,” he said. “I’ve just thought of something. Actually, I sort of ... forgot something.”

I opened the door to find Alfred looking positively distressed.

“What’s wrong?”

“We forgot to use protection.”

I laughed and he looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

“I take birth control, Alfred, but it’s sweet of you to think of it.” I patted his cheek as I added, “Don’t look so pitiful.”

“You might have mentioned that,” he whined.

“I’m sorry, but you didn’t ask, and it was not something I was concerned about.”

He turned me around, smacked my butt and said, “Get in the shower.”

I probably should have mentioned my birth control to Alfred, but I hadn’t thought about it since April. A daily pill was too complicated for my schedule, and not strong enough for my metabolism. There was a doctor who worked for the Hunters. He specialized in experimental drugs of different sorts and had made a pill strong enough for me. It was far superior to anything on Earth, as I had never experienced a single side effect. I took it once a year, every year, on my birthday.

Alfred’s bathroom had a large walk-in shower along the back wall. It was tiled up on the outside to simply look like a wall, but inside it was very spacious. It needed to be if Alfred was going to fit in there.

As I stepped into the shower, I walked around the small half wall that divided it and took two steps down into the actual shower. I loved Alfred’s shower, but hadn’t been inside it since we’d remodeled the house. The large shower head stretched out from the wall and then hung down, causing the water to fall from directly above instead of at an angle. It was called a Rainmaker, and I loved it.

While I adjusted the water, Alfred stepped inside and placed our towels on the bench just inside the shower. I looked up at him and from that particular angle he seemed even taller. I watched with satisfaction as the muscles of his thighs flexed while he took the two steps down into the shower with me. He reached out and touched my left cheek lightly, as if he were examining it.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Nothing. It’s just that, the scratch on your cheek ...”

“What about it?”

“Well, I could have sworn it was still there before, and now it’s already healed.”

“You’re kidding? I’ve never healed that fast before.”

Alfred looked puzzled, but quickly brushed off whatever concerns he may have had.

“Do you feel all right?” he asked.

“Fine,” I purred seductively as I pulled him close to me.

“Then I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said, smiling down at me.

He leaned forward, as if to kiss me and I ran my fingers through his hair just as he stepped underneath the water. I felt a rush of desire flood through me and knew the effect my voice would have once I spoke again.

“The only thing that worries me is whether or not my strength will last long enough to do what I have in mind.”

Alfred placed his hands around my waist and lifted me, pressing my back against the cool tile. I kissed him with renewed fervor as I wrapped myself around him. I got a better hold on Alfred’s hair and tilted his head back, giving myself better access to his throat.

I nuzzled at his neck, biting gently along the tender skin near his collar bone.

“Be gentle,” he whispered.

I looked up at the smirk he was wearing and replied, “What’s the matter? Have you never been bitten before?”

“Yes,” he joked, “but never this bad.”

I gasped as he pressed his cock against me, reminding me very vividly that I might not be able to take him again so soon. Alfred slid me up the wall, so I was only slightly higher up than he was, and buried his face against my breasts. My breath caught in a strangled gasp as I braced myself against his shoulders. The water fell down Alfred’s back and washed between our bodies. The rush of warm water combined with his hot tongue was more than I could handle.

I pulled his mouth away from my breast and he gasped. “What’s wrong?”

“We have all day to take our time.”

“Are you trying to say you don’t like foreplay?”

“I’m trying to say that when I’m starving, I’m not much for appetizers.”

With those words Alfred loosened his grip on me, allowing my body to slide down the tile, and directly onto his rock hard erection. I moaned as I wrapped myself more tightly around him.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Will you stop worrying about breaking me?” I teased.

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” he said softly as he pressed me more firmly against the tile.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, sliding the front of my wet body along his as I purred, “I’ll let you know if anything hurts.”

Alfred wrapped his hands around my back and I whispered, “No, let me.”

I braced my left hand against the wall and held on tightly with my right arm around his neck. Slowly, I began to grind my hips against him as I slid up and down his body.

My thighs clamped tightly around his hips as I bucked and arched against him.

“Cazzo,” he panted. (Holy shit.) “I should have come home sooner.”

“It’s lucky you came when you did,” I growled.

Alfred laughed as he pressed me back into the tile again.

“My turn,” he said lustfully.

Alfred seemed to have given up his concern about breaking me and I held on for dear life thinking at any minute we were going to crack the tile. It didn’t take much persuasion for me to relinquish what little control I had. Once again, I lost all sense of time and place. I felt myself griping Alfred’s shoulders and my last coherent thought was, “I hope I don’t scratch him too badly.”

The next thing I knew, water misted across my face and I blinked as it hit my eyelashes. My face was pressed into the curve of Alfred’s neck. I could feel his heartbeat against my forehead and knew by its furious pounding that I hadn’t been out for very long. If it were not for his hold on me, I’m certain I would have fallen.

“I thought we were going to take a shower,” he mumbled against my hair.

I laughed weakly as I replied, “That reminds me, what kind of conditioner do you use?”

The feel of Alfred’s silken hair between my fingers had been sorely missed. I remembered several months ago, before he left, laughing to myself at the thought of asking him what conditioner he used.

“What?” He laughed.

“Well, when you mentioned taking a shower, I remembered I wanted to know what conditioner you use.” I lifted my head to look at him and found it took a great deal more effort than I anticipated. “Your hair is always so soft,” I explained.

He smiled gently and cradled the side of my face with one hand. “Are you all right?”

“Jackass.” I laughed as I pushed away from him.

Alfred held onto my waist as he stepped back enough so I could slide to the floor. I found it difficult to stand and was relieved when he offered to wash my hair. Alfred turned me to face the water. I leaned forward and propped my hands against the wall while he lathered up my hair. He reached around and handed me a bottle of conditioner. I recognized the bottle as a specialty brand from the local salon.

“Too good for over the counter products?” I teased.

“How do you think my hair stays so soft?” he said smoothly.

I laughed and handed him the bottle. He tilted me back so that my head rested against his chest while he rinsed my hair. I breathed deeply of the familiar scent I had come to associate with Alfred while he applied the conditioner to my hair.

“I’m exhausted,” I moaned.

“You’re welcome.”

“Asshole,” I teased, but I knew I had it coming to me.

Alfred washed me from head to toe and I reclined across the top of the large tile steps while he finished up. It was then that I noticed the bandage on my arm, and decided I should remove it.

“Oh, I meant to take that off,” Alfred said as I peeled back the tape.

“It’s all right.”

But what I saw was not all right. The wounds I received the night before should not have been healed for another week at least. Considering how deep they were, maybe even a week and a half to be completely healed. All that remained of the vicious bite was faintly pink circles where the large teeth had punctured my skin. The bruising that was there a few hours ago had now completely faded and it frightened me. I’d never complained about recovering quickly from an injury before. But, this was not normal, even for me.

“How’s it look?” Alfred asked.

“It’s healed,” I said softly.

He turned back to face me. “What?”

I held up my forearm so he could see all that remained of the marks.

“But, that’s not possible.”

Alfred knelt before me in the shower and examined my arm, turning it from side to side with a shocked expression.

“What did you do exactly while I was gone?” he asked.

There was no way around it; I was going to have to tell him about Mathias, because what just happened was not explainable otherwise. I took a deep breath and launched into my story. I said Kat had wanted to go out, and we’d ended up at Marco’s club, where he had given me this journal.

“What has a journal got to do with your arm, and why the hell were you talking to Marco Barak?”

“Will you let me explain first?” I sighed. “Apparently, Marco is quite the collector of history and old books. He came across this particular book while he was in London about a year ago.”

Alfred looked pissed and I knew I needed to get to the point. “How much do you know about the wizard Mathias Alexander?”

“The Seducer? But what has he—”

“He was my great, great grandfather. It was his journal Marco found. That’s why I was talking to him.”

“The voice of seduction,” Alfred mumbled.

“You’ve heard of it?”

“It was before my time, but I thought people who mentioned it were just full of shit. You inherited his power? How?”

I proceeded to explain to Alfred as best I could everything that had transpired between Mathias and myself.

“So, how did Marco know to give the journal to you?”

“It told him to.”

“It what?”

As I tried my best to explain how the journal worked, I could feel myself beginning to lose focus. I must have looked bad because Alfred knew with a glance that I was growing faint.

“Come on.” He scooped me up. “You can tell me the rest later, you need to eat something.”

I rested my head against Alfred’s shoulder while he dried us both and wrapped me in his dark brown bathrobe. He carried me to the bed and I sprawled face down across the comforter. I lay there while Alfred went to get something from the kitchen. It had been nearly eighteen hours since I had anything to eat. With my metabolism, it was a miracle I hadn’t already become nauseous.

He brought back a bowl of cherries, and I nibbled at the fruit while he dried my hair.

“So, what do you think the voice has to do with you healing so quickly?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to ask him.”

“Ask him? You’re going to ask a dead wizard for advice?”

“Sure.” I shrugged. “I do it all the time.”

I explained to Alfred that no matter what page I turned to, the journal had a way of answering my questions.

“I had no idea,” he said. “Alexander really was as powerful as everyone said. He must have seen your whole life to be able to answer your every question.”

“That’s the conclusion I’ve come to.”

“Will you tell Jacob?” he asked as he put the blow dryer away.

“I don’t think so. There’s no reason in particular I’ve been keeping it to myself ... I just don’t particularly want everyone to know.”

“So, who does know?”

“You and Kat. Oh, and Marco because he found the journal first.”

I left Richard out since he and Alfred didn’t get along too well. It wasn’t likely they would have a conversation about Mathias or anything else. Besides, any secret I had was safe with Richard.

“Did it speak to him, other than to say he needed to give the book to you?”

“It did, but I don’t know what Mathias said. When I asked him he told me that what he had to share with me would never be seen by anyone else, no matter how many times they read his journal.”

“Fascinating,” he replied as he started looking through the cherries.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for a cherry.”

“Alfred, they’re all cherries,” I said sarcastically.

“I don’t like them too ripe.”

“Are you trying to say that you don’t like old cherries?”

He laughed.

“I would ask to see the journal, but I don’t suppose it would do me any good. And what exactly do you mean when you say you asked him? Mathias is dead, isn’t he?”

“Not completely, no. When his power was transferred to me, he became a part of me.”

“Run that past me again.”

“A part of his consciousness still lives somewhere in the back of my mind and I can contact him through meditation.”

I expected Alfred to tell me I was schizophrenic and that the voice in my head couldn’t possibly be a long dead ancestor. Instead he just nodded thoughtfully and kept looking for the perfect cherry.

“The ones with the lighter color are still crunchy,” I informed him.

“Isn’t this supposed to be where you tell me something ridiculously obscene, like the darker the berry, the sweeter the juice?” he said with a grin.

“Nah, I figured that line was too cliché.”

“How do you feel?”

“Tired,” I yawned.

He sat the bowl with its few remaining cherries on the table by the bed and stretched back across the pillows.

“Come here,” he said softly.

I snuggled against Alfred’s side and would have fallen instantly asleep, except for the fact that he kept talking.

“I wouldn’t worry about your arm,” he said.

“Hmm?” I mumbled sleepily.

“Your arm. Whatever happened can’t be bad. I mean, we’re both unharmed.”

“That sounds reasonable.” I yawned loudly.

“I know you’re fading fast,” Alfred said as he tousled my hair, “But I wanted to tell you not to worry about contacting Mathias Alexander, or anyone else for a few days.”

“A few days?”

“Yes. I wasn’t kidding when I said that to Kathryn. There’s nothing either of us needs to do that can’t wait for a few days.”

“I feel like I could sleep for a few days.” I yawned again.

“Then I won’t keep you awake any longer, cara mia,” he whispered as he kissed the top of my head.

“Good, cause I was just about to tell you to shut up.”

“Sono il tuo schiavo,” he drawled. (I am your slave.)

“Promises, promises,” I teased.

Chapter Eleven

I slept more soundly over the next few hours than I had in weeks. In Alfred’s embrace I found a peace I had been missing, and a comfort I had longed for. As I woke to the sound of his heartbeat underneath my ear I sighed contentedly. I had almost forgotten how safe I felt when I was with Alfred. He was my refuge. If I had a protector it was Alfred, not Marco, or Bade, or anyone else. No matter how much I regretted any pain I might have caused Marco, I was not his to protect. I belonged to Alfred. I suppose I always had. His hair was the ebony silk I remembered and I watched as it slipped from my fingertips. I was afraid things would change between us, but I didn’t feel any different watching him sleep that afternoon.

Alfred had come into my life when I was only ten years old. I realized that I didn’t feel different, because I had always adored him. He had been kind to the child that I was and tender with the woman I had become. It seemed only natural that he should be my lover. Maybe everyone in town was onto something after all.

In the few moments before he awoke I reflected back on the events of the morning. Being with Alfred was incredible. The thrill of a first experience combined with that comfortable feeling of an old lover, who knows you so well. It was the best sex I’d ever had.

He was the only person I trusted completely with my well-being, other than my father. But there were still some things I kept to myself. It wasn’t that Alfred was untrustworthy, I just didn’t want to change the way he looked at me. I’d never had a gentleman look at me the way Alfred did and I didn’t want to ruin it. Truthfully, I’d never met another gentleman, except maybe Richard.

I felt better after we made love. It felt as if that act had helped me to finally make up my mind. For a time I was confused, but I couldn’t pretend to misinterpret my feelings for Alfred any longer. The last time I allowed myself to love someone, it was a mistake. But nothing had ever felt more right than loving Alfred.

Years ago I heard a woman with several children say that pregnancy is different every time. You never know how you will react. Love is like that too. It doesn’t mean you love someone more or less than someone else, but it’s always different. Each time is unique, and all worth the experience.

Alfred stirred slightly and I watched his long lashes flutter before his dark eyes looked at me.

“Such a serious face,” he whispered, as he caressed my cheek.

“I was just thinking.”

“Don’t think such thoughts so soon after great sex,” he teased.

I laughed. “Is that your own brand of philosophy, or just an Italian thing?”

He stretched and scooted down the pillows as he answered, “A little of both, I think.”

I flopped onto my back and my stomach growled again.

“If you wanted to keep me barefoot and in the kitchen, you could have just asked,” he said.

“Yep, that’s what I want. Now get in the kitchen and make me a sandwich, bitch.”

It’s lucky I have such quick reflexes or I would never have been able to beat Alfred to the bathroom. I jumped off the bed, laughing maniacally and ran for the door with him right on my heels.

“You’d better lock the door.” He laughed as I slammed the door in his face still cackling with laughter.

When I walked back out a few minutes later, I was surprised that Alfred wasn’t waiting around the corner to ambush me. The biggest surprise? He was cooking. I had the most unreal craving for seafood, but wasn’t about to speak a preference since he was cooking, and I wasn’t. As I entered the kitchen, I stopped in the doorway and just stared. Alfred looked good in the long black bathrobe he wore, but that was not what caught my attention.

“What? You’ve never seen a fish before?” Alfred asked sarcastically.

“How did you know I was craving seafood?”

“Actually, I was craving seafood, so don’t think I’m cooking this just because you like salmon.” He paused. “Am I cooking this just because you like salmon?”

“Maybe.” I smiled.

“There’s more you haven’t told me, isn’t there?”

“About what?” I asked innocently.

“About The Seducer and his power.”

Since Alfred cooked more often than I did, I’d let him pick out the appliances. Half of the surface of our stove was a grill where he placed the salmon while I talked. I explained to Alfred about Mathias’ warning to me. About how I had the ability through sex when combined with an emotional connection to take on the characteristics of other people.

“He said it could be that I would find interest in things they liked that I’d never cared for, like a favorite book. Or, I could start to like their favorite foods.”

Alfred had taken out a bottle of wine. He always drank when he cooked and had nearly choked with my last words.

“Do you think that could work both ways?” he asked.

“Quite possibly. According to Mathias, it doesn’t always happen. Sometimes, it may be subtle or very noticeable. It all depends on the person and how much of a connection you have with them.”

“I see. Are these,” he seemed to be searching for the right word, “effects permanent?”

“They can be, or it could be just a passing thing.” I sat down at the table and crossed my legs underneath me. “Do you remember when I was dating Bradley?”

Alfred had turned back to the stove, but I could still tell he flinched before answering, “Yes.”

“Well, he liked to read books that really weren’t my thing. While we were seeing each other, I started to like some of the same things. But after it was over, I did my best to cut off any connection I’d ever had with him. Without knowing what I was doing at the time, I severed our psychic bond. Anything I’ve ever picked up from anyone else must have just gradually faded, or been nonexistent.”

Alfred poured himself another glass of wine as he turned to me and propped against the counter. “So, let me get this straight. You are capable of picking up bits and pieces of the personalities of the people that you have intimate contact with?”

“Yes.”

“And in some cases, they may experience this also?”

“Yes.”

“But you remain ... basically the same? I mean, it doesn’t change who you are?”

“Right. Your basic personality can never be altered. But ...”

“But what?”

“Mathias said that I should be careful, because there are ‘worse things than craving onions instead of candy.’”

“Shit.” He took another sip of wine and said, “Well, at least you’re not dating a loser like Bradley anymore.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Alfred turned his back to me and began taking other ingredients down from the cabinet. I slid quietly out of my chair and wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my face against his back.

“But, how do I know you aren’t secretly some diabolical fiend that with enough contact might forever change me?”

He laughed as I slipped one hand inside his robe. “You have already changed me,” he said as he turned in my arms to face me. “But I guess this means no more one night stands for you.” He winked.

“Bastard.” I laughed. “See, that’s the thing,” I commented while pouring myself a glass of wine. “I could never understand casual sex. Even if I’m not deeply in love with someone, I have to at least care for them if we’re going to sleep together.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I’m serious. So, I suppose that ups my chances of experiencing some kind of connection or osmosis or whatever the hell you want to call it, because I have cared for everyone I’ve ever been with.” I took a sip of the dark red wine before adding more softly, “I’ve never used anybody.”

“And that’s what makes you a good person in spite of yourself.” Alfred tilted my chin so that I looked at him again. “Don’t think about him now. I’m here, not that asshole Bradley, or the one before him.” He kissed my forehead. “And I will not use you.”

“Besides,” he continued, “you and I have lived together for so long, we’ve already picked up bits and pieces of each other’s personality just out of habit.”

“True, but how did you know I was thinking about Bradley?”

“Besides the fact that you mentioned him a few minutes ago? I don’t need to gain any of your ability to read your mind, I know you too well.” He sighed. “I suppose it really doesn’t matter. Not for you and I.”

“How so?”

“You were already a part of me,” he said softly.

“You’re just saying that because you’ve seen me naked,” I managed to say with a straight face.

He smiled and turned back to the salmon as he commented over his shoulder, “No. I’m saying that so I can see you naked again.”

I watched as he added some red peppers and olive oil to the pasta he’d started to cook and my stomach lurched. I was hungrier than I’d thought.

“How is it Mathias Alexander is warning you about choosing your sexual partners carefully if all the rumors about him were true?”

I laughed. “That’s what I asked him. But, Mathias did choose his lovers very carefully. He didn’t go for the cold or conceited women, but ‘the soft of heart.’ He was with some of the most ravishing and heart wrenchingly beautiful women the world has ever known, and they helped to make him into the seductive wizard of legend.”

“Damn, that’s sexy when you say it,” he said, smiling.

“How much did you manage to drink while I was in the bathroom?”

“This is only my second glass,” he said indignantly. But the half smirk gave him away. “My second glass, after I drank from the bottle while you were in the bathroom.”

“That’s what I thought,” I said with a laugh. “Does the sight of me naked drive you to drink?”

“Of course not.” He put the glass on the counter. “I’m just glad to be back.” He pinched my ass and winked as he said, “And I’m glad to see you.”

*****

After dinner all I wanted to do was snuggle up and go to sleep. And after Alfred finished off an expensive bottle of Pinot Noir, that’s all he was able to do.

“Italian men are so much more fun when they’re drunk,” I said on our way back to his bedroom.

“Is that so? Are you saying I’m not any fun sober?”

“No, but you’re more difficult to take advantage of,” I purred.

“Ah,” he sighed. “If only you knew how many years I’ve waited for you to take advantage of me.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Alfred looked down his nose at me as if that were the stupidest question in the world.

“Because you just don’t do things like that.”

“You mean you don’t do things like that. I on the other hand have no problem telling someone I’d like to be taken advantage of.”

“Really? I may just be drunk, but didn’t I hear you say earlier that you’d loved me too long to let go without a fight?”

“Something like that, yes. But that’s not the same thing.”

“Oh yes it is. If you’ve cared for me for as long as you say, you haven’t bothered to tell me either.” He pointed to his eyes and then at me as if he was going to do The Three Stooges eye poke and said, “But, I’ve been giving you the eye.”

“My God, you’re drunk,” I laughed.

“Do you really love me?” he asked seriously as we reached the bedroom door.

We went inside and I watched Alfred sit on the side of the bed, facing me expectantly. I walked up to him and separated his knees so that I could stand between his legs. As I brushed my fingers through his dark silken hair I replied, “I have always loved you, I just didn’t realize it before.” I sighed. “And I always will, even if you turn out to be a complete scoundrel and ruin my life.”

Alfred placed his hand on the back of my neck and pulled me toward him. His lips were warm and soft with the faint kiss of wine. “I’m not a scoundrel,” he whispered as he kissed along my cheek.

“Maybe not,” I teased. “But I am.”

His skin was warm beneath my touch as I slipped both my hands inside his robe. I let my fingertips play along his arms, reveling in the feel of every nuance and curve of muscle. I was exhausted. It had been nearly twenty four hours before I had any sleep, and the few hours I had passed out in the early afternoon were not enough. But as I looked at Alfred, drunk and as helpless as I was ever likely to find him, I couldn’t seem to help myself. There was a hunger inside of me that would not rest, a desire that would not be silenced, and an ember that was once again becoming a flame.

I ran my hands up to his shoulders and slid the soft robe down his back. Faint red claw marks tarnished the perfect bronze of his skin. I kissed the marks as I whispered against his skin, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” he said. “I didn’t even feel them.”

I licked across the red mark on one tanned shoulder and he gasped.

“I’ll make it up to you,” I promised.

I untied his robe and revealed his gorgeous body to my hungry eyes. Hungry is the only word to describe the way I looked at him, for I was ravenous with my wicked desires. There were things I wanted to do to Alfred that had no name, ways I wanted to touch him that had no description.

“Lie back,” I said silkily as I placed one hand on his chest and pushed gently.

The soft black robe fell to the floor as Alfred slid back across the sheets naked until he reached the middle of the bed. He reclined back against the pillows and crossed his hands behind his head as he watched me.

I took the belt from his robe and walked into the bathroom. Alfred’s closet, like mine upstairs, adjoined his bathroom, and there I found what I needed. I reemerged shortly with the belts from two more of Alfred’s robes.

Like a cat, I crawled toward him, took one foot and tied one of the belts around his ankle. Alfred’s gaze never wavered from mine as I tied both his feet securely to the bed posts. I crawled over his body and Alfred watched me take his left wrist from behind his head and secure it with the last belt.

“You forgot my right hand,” he said, wiggling his fingers.

With a dramatic flair that I could not have pulled off better with practice, I snatched off the belt of the robe I was wearing and tied his right hand up with a smile.

“What are you planning to do?” he asked.

I threw back my head and laughed. It was a deep, velvet, throaty sound. Alfred replied softly, “That sounded like a threat.”

“No darling, that was a promise,” I purred.

I opened Alfred’s long robe that I still wore, and straddled his upper thighs. As I leaned forward, I began to rub my face across his stomach like an animal. I think I was trying to scent mark Alfred’s body as my territory. His skin felt so warm against my face. My voice was practically a moan as I said, “So many nights I’ve laid awake,” I breathed along his skin, “just thinking of the things I’d like to do to you.”

His shocked intake of breath thrilled me, and it was all I could do to control myself.

“I was just downstairs, you know?”

“But over the past three months, you were on another planet,” I purred. “And my lustful gaze has been deprived of the sight of you.”

“Ah,” he panted. “Do you always talk like this when you’re aroused? I mean, is it a poet thing, or what?”

“Are you complaining?”

“No, God no.”

“I believe it to be the unfortunate side effect of a horny poet inheriting the powers of a horny old wizard.”

He laughed and I slid farther up his body. I stretched myself across him so that the front of our bodies pressed together as my lips hovered above his left nipple. I breathed along his skin and watched him shiver. Without warning I closed my mouth over his flesh, flicking across the taut skin with my tongue.

“Are you planning to torture me like this all night?” he moaned.

“You haven’t seen torture yet.”

For nearly an hour I let my mouth and hands roam over Alfred’s body. I touched the places I had only touched before in my mind, and I committed the feel of his body to memory.

As I kissed along the curve of his hip I could contain myself no longer. All of this time I had deliberately avoided touching certain parts of him. The fine shimmer of sweat across his forehead made it clear that I was in fact torturing Alfred.

I straddled his legs again as I leaned forward and took the part of him I had avoided between my hands. I brushed the sides of my face up and down the length of his cock and Alfred fought against the restraints. But I was good at tying knots and I dared not set him free.

I released him abruptly and his look of disappointment almost made me laugh. I retrieved the bowl of leftover cherries from the table by the bed and I could have sworn Alfred whimpered.

After I placed the bowl beside him, I slipped out of the robe and scooted it underneath his hips. I reached into the bowl as I once again straddled his legs. With my right hand I crushed the ripe cherries and watched in fascination as the juice poured over the honeyed bronze of his skin, leaving faintly pink trails.

I placed both my hands firmly on the bed beside his hips and leaned forward to lick the juice from his body. He cried out as I took part of him into my mouth, only to release him seconds later in order to better lick the juices from his writhing flesh. I slid my hands underneath him and squeezed the firm muscles of his backside as I continued to clean the juice from his body with my mouth.

When the torture became too great, even for me ... I took him. I took him like a wild ravening beast claims its mate in the wild. I straddled his waist and stuffed his big cock inside me. Alfred was mine, and every inch of him would remember that in the morning. But for now, I wanted to hear it.

“Tell me you’re mine,” I breathed against his throat. “Let me hear you say it.”

“Sono tuo,” he moaned repeatedly.

Even though he spoke Italian I understood him, and it was what I needed to hear. Like a raging storm my passion rolled over us, sweeping away our minds in a tide of desire. His words had brought me such release that I nearly passed out as I rested my face against his chest.

“Oh, my God,” he panted. For the next several minutes Alfred alternated between mumbling, “Oh, my God,” and something indiscernible in Italian. But I suddenly felt very weak and very sick.

“I don’t feel good,” I mumbled as I rolled over Alfred and off the bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure, but I really don’t feel good.”

“Untie me,” he said.

I sort of staggered to each bedpost and with one tug the knots were undone. I left Alfred to untie the belts from his wrists and ankles while I stumbled into the bathroom. When he found me just a few minutes later, I was sitting on the cold tile in the bottom of the shower with my face pressed against the wall.

Alfred swept me onto his lap and held me against him as he asked, “Lilith, what’s wrong?”

“I feel sick,” I mumbled as I wrapped my arms around him.

“Describe it to me. Are you nauseous?”

“Not really. I feel weak ... not just the weakness after really good sex.” I laughed softly.

“What sort of weakness?”

“I think I’m going to faint,” I whispered against his chest.

He held me in silence for a moment before asking, “What time did you say Richard called you the other night?”

“It was late, near midnight. I couldn’t sleep, so I’d decided to go down to the training room.”

“And you were out all night fighting werewolves and in fear for the life of your friend?”

“Yes.” I tried to nod and my head fell limply forward.

“And then you came home to me, and we slept this afternoon for what, three and a half, maybe four hours?”

“Mmhm.”

“Considering the lack of sleep, and the fact that you’ve not eaten nearly enough to heal your wounds so dramatically, I think we’ve discovered the reason for your weakness. That’s not even taking into account the way you just worked me over.”

I smiled and it took effort. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” he said as he tiled my head back and looked at my eyes. “You just look exhausted to me.”

“Are you sure? I feel really bad,” I grumbled.

“I am a doctor, remember? Take my word for it.”

My eyelashes fluttered and I started to see spots.

“Come on,” he said, scooping me up again like I weighed nothing.

Alfred sat on the side of the tub with me still on his lap and I listened to the sounds of him adjusting the water temperature. Opening my eyes would have taken too much effort.

I must have dozed off or passed out because the next thing I knew, he was easing me down into the warm water. However, unlike the last time we’d been in the tub together, he didn’t have to put me in first in order to get undressed. Fortunately, Alfred was already naked. He just stepped into the tub and carried me with him.

“You didn’t want to go to bed sticky?” I asked once he’d gotten us both settled.

“I have nothing against cherries,” he said, “but yes. I didn’t want to be sticky.”

As I snuggled against his chest he added, “You should appreciate that because I would have just spooned up against you and then you’d wake up to a sticky ass.”

I laughed and it made me feel nauseated, so I took a few minutes to just lie there and let my stomach settle. Alfred wrapped his arms around me and held me tight against his chest. The warm bath water heated his skin to the point of feeling almost feverish, but I took comfort in the warmth.

He began to massage the back of my neck with the hand that had been cradling my head and I moaned. “This feels familiar,” I said sleepily.

“Yes, it does.”

“Will you molest me this time?” I teased.

“I don’t think I have the strength,” he said and I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Speaking of which, won’t Marcy be angry that you didn’t have the strength to go out with her?”

“Not likely.”

I pulled back to look at him and asked, “You lied about the date?”

“No. But I’d already called her and cancelled before you came down to the lab.” He smiled. “I had the strength; I just didn’t have the heart.”

His dark eyes sparkled alluringly and I stretched upward to kiss him. Alfred has such nice lips, so soft, perfect for kissing. The touch of his warmth seemed to revive something within me and desires that should have long been sated were awakened once again. It was not sex that I craved, but the press of his warm flesh against me. I hungered for the taste of his lips and the feel of his strong embrace. I moved so that my face rested against the curve of his neck and sighed contentedly.

I fell asleep while Alfred washed my hair. There was something about his long fingers running across my scalp that relaxed me completely. When I woke up, Alfred had just stood, lifting us both from the water. I was so tired. I kept taking deep breaths as if I could never get enough oxygen.

Instead of trying to dry me, Alfred just wrapped me in a large cream colored towel and laid me at the foot of the bed while he dried off. My eyes would not seem to stay open, but I heard him toweling his hair and turning down the covers.

When he came back a few minutes later he started drying my hair and I fell asleep again as soon as I heard the sound of the blow dryer. I vaguely remembered wondering if I’d gotten any of the cherry juice on the covers.

*****

The next thing I knew, it was morning. Alfred’s big warm body was wrapped around me like a blanket and I snuggled back against him. But what had woken me? The sun was just rising and the bay window in Alfred’s room that overlooked the rose garden was directly in front of my face. Even though the window was all the way across the large bedroom, the light managed to cascade directly onto the point of my nose. No wonder Alfred slept on the other side.

The minute I slid off the bed Alfred grumbled and flung one arm across his eyes. “What are you doing?” he mumbled.

“I’m going to the bathroom, is that all right with you?”

“Hmm,” he groaned.

When I came back I took a moment to appreciate how good he looked lying there. His ebony hair shined in the early morning sun like a dark gem, and the bronze of his skin looked magnificent next to the golden sheets. He looked like some sort of Greek god, come to Earth. And he was mine. Every inch and sinew of that gorgeous body was mine.

I smiled to myself as I closed the bed curtains and slipped back between the satin sheets. I ran my hand over the soft hair on his chest and sighed. “I love a man with a hairy chest.”

He laughed. “Well, now that that’s out of the way, I can cancel my appointment to be waxed.”

“I’m serious.”

“Me too.”

I lifted my head enough to look at him and he smirked. “Okay, so I wasn’t going to be waxed. But that’s really something you don’t hear every day.”

“I think you’re confused,” I said as I snuggled back against him. “It’s hairy backs and butts that women don’t like, but a hairy chest is fine.”

Alfred wrapped his arm around my head and squeezed me against him. “Any other myths of female preference you want to clear up this morning?”

“Now that you mention it, I’d like to talk about size.”

“What?”

“It matters.”

“Do tell?”

“Anyone who says differently either doesn’t measure up, or they’re with someone who doesn’t measure up.”

Alfred smiled. “I thought it was skill that mattered most?”

I leaned over and kissed his forehead as I replied playfully, “Honey, they both matter.”

“So you’re saying it doesn’t matter if you’re captain of the Titanic if it sinks before you reach your destination?”

“Exactly.”

*****

I fell back asleep with my head against Alfred’s chest. When I woke again a few hours later, I thought it might be a nice surprise for him if I made breakfast. So, I slipped out of bed quietly, put on the top to Alfred’s black pajamas and went to the kitchen. I had just started the coffee when I heard a knock at the door. I thought it must be Kat, and for her to show up so soon after Alfred’s phone call, it must be important. So, I answered the door.

Fortunately, Alfred’s pajama top reached to mid-thigh on me, so I wasn’t indecently exposed. But, I was still standing there half naked, staring into the pointy-nosed face of Marcy Johnson.

Chapter Twelve

She looked prissy as ever, same wide ass and flat chest as before, all squeezed into an ankle length pink dress. Her makeup was overdone, as it always was, and I could tell that she’d put some effort into her frizzy blond hair. She obviously wasn’t expecting to see me.

“Lilith, I didn’t expect to see you.”

“Well, it is my house.” I forced myself to smile. “What brings you here ... so early this morning?”

“Is Alfred here?” she asked.

She had balls, I’d give her that much. Showing up at my house and asking for the naked man in my bed. Well, it was his bed, but you get the point. I’d decided once that given the opportunity I would hurt Marcy. But here was my opportunity, and I didn’t have the heart. I know what it feels like to be hurt, and couldn’t bring myself to treat another person that way, even one I despised. No matter what I said, she would surely be hurt, but there was no need to make things worse.

When I didn’t answer she said, “We had a date last night. When he called to cancel, I assumed he was sick.”

“He’s not sick, he’s asleep.”

Reality began to dawn slowly on her prissy features and I stepped onto the porch with Marcy, closing the door behind me.

“Since you’re here, let me explain something to you, Marcy. First of all, I know you don’t like me. I see the judgment in your eyes every time you look at me. But that’s not important. You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me, and what you might hear in town is unreliable. If you stay around here long enough, you’ll find out that most people around these parts have nothing better to do than tell lies about the people who do have something better to do.”

Marcy took a few steps back and nearly stumbled down the steps before bracing herself against one of the pillars on the front porch.

“Anything I say to you now, will hurt. I know what that feels like and it’s not my intention.”

“Then what is your intention?” she asked.

The haughty tone to her voice made me blurt out the point most indelicately.

“Alfred was with me last night.”

She gasped and placed a hand over her bosom.

“Marcy, I’m sorry. I was trying to be nice about it, but you just won’t let me. I love Alfred, and I didn’t take him from you just because I could.”

“Then why did you?” she stammered.

“I didn’t, Marcy. He was never yours.”

The hatred in her eyes was plain to see as she turned to leave, but I stopped her. I turned Marcy to face me and forced her to look into my eyes.

“Look at me,” I pleaded. “Alfred has been a part of my life since I was a child. You could never have competed with that. Last night I was true to my heart when I spent the night with him. And you’re here this morning to be true to yours. I understand where you’re coming from. But don’t hate me because I got here first.”

“Thank you,” she sighed shakily. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly.

“Excuse me?”

“Not for today, because you’re right. I did what I thought I had to do ... I’m sorry for the things I thought about you ... for believing the things I heard.”

I stood there in stunned silence as she continued, “The woman I heard about would not have just leveled with me the way you did. I’m starting to think you’re right about this town.”

“I’ve lived here off and on my whole life, trust me. The people here aren’t all bad, it just depends on whose company you keep.”

Marcy crossed her arms and leaned back against the porch column as she asked, “Do you know Lola, at the video store?”

“Shit. No wonder you looked at me like that. Lola hates me. We went to high school together and I can tell you her personality hasn’t improved over the years.”

Marcy laughed. “Yeah? Well, she was the first person I met when I came to town. As a matter of fact, she’s the one that suggested I stop by here and meet Alfred.”

I felt my face instantly flush with anger. “Oh she did? I’ll get her,” I said nastily.

“No, don’t,” Marcy said. “Let me.” She smiled maliciously. “Look, I’m sorry for this, but it really is her fault that I’m here. You and I may be nothing alike, but I don’t go from door to door trying to steal my neighbor’s men.”

For the first time, the smile I offered Marcy was genuine.

“I believe you. Now will you believe I’m not a manipulative man-eating bitch who’s slept with half the town?”

“Oh, I think I’ve figured out who holds that title,” she said darkly.

Marcy apologized again before driving away. We weren’t exactly friends, but when Marcy left that day, we were no longer enemies.

I went back into the kitchen feeling surprisingly good about myself for having treated Marcy fairly. I was in the middle of making French toast when Alfred walked in wearing the bottom that matched the black pajama top I had on.

“Good morning.” I smiled.

He walked over and kissed the top of my head. “Good morning.”

“I made coffee,” I said, turning back to the toast.

While Alfred looked for a cup he said, “I thought I heard voices.”

“You did. Marcy stopped by.”

He dropped the mug he’d just removed from the cabinet and managed to catch it a second before it hit the counter.

“Nice reflexes.” I smiled.

Alfred looked like he was going to be sick. Since he was most likely expecting to have to dispose of a body before breakfast, I decided to explain what happened. By the time I finished my explanation, breakfast was done. Alfred helped me find where he’d put all the fresh fruit.

He began to slice some peaches and commented, “Well, that explains a lot. That Lola is a really unpleasant little ... thing.”

I laughed. “Yeah, she always has been. But, it made me think better of Marcy to know that everything had been stirred up by Lola to start with. Don’t get me wrong, I still don’t like her. But, I don’t hate her any more either.”

“You do know I only accepted her offer because I thought you’d left me for Elijah?”

“I do now.” I smiled.

“Even though we know she’s not a complete bitch now, Marcy’s still not my type.”

“And what exactly is your type?”

Alfred smiled seductively while he sprinkled some sugar over the peaches.

“I like redheaded wild women who tie me to the bedposts when I’m drunk.”

“Really?” I purred. “Well, I think I know just the girl.”

*****

It was a week later before Kat had the nerve to stop by for breakfast.

“Good morning, Kat.” I smiled when I answered the door.

She took in with a sadistic grin the fact that I was wearing another of Alfred’s satin pajama tops. This time it was gold.

“Is it safe to come in?” she teased.

“Oh, don’t be an ass.” I pulled her inside.

“Me an ass? He’s the one that said to give you a few days.”

I just shook my head and Kat burst out eagerly, “So?”

“So, what?”

“Damn it, you know what,” she said, laughing. “How was it?”

“Great.” I sighed.

“That’s it? Great? I’ve waited a week to hear great?”

I laughed. “What do you want to hear, Kat? It was incredible, the best sex I’ve ever had and in all honesty, words fail me.”

“Wow,” she said. “So, it was great.”

“Would you like some breakfast?”

Kat followed me through the foyer toward the kitchen as she commented, “Well, you still haven’t answered the one thing I’m dying to know—”

She broke off with a startled expression when we rounded the corner. Alfred was wearing the bottom to the gold pajamas and standing by the coffee pot with a smile.

“Good morning, Kathryn,” he said, grinning wickedly. “I see the subject hasn’t changed since I’ve been gone.”

“Good morning,” she mumbled.

Kat sat down, apparently trying to pretend she wasn’t embarrassed. Alfred turned back to the stove and Kat looked at me. She pointed to Alfred and fanned herself while she mouthed, “Oh my, God.”

I’d forgotten that Kat had never seen Alfred without his shirt and had to agree, he was quite the sight. As I walked behind her chair I leaned over and whispered, “Eye candy for breakfast.”

She blushed as Alfred turned back around and asked, “So, what are you up to these days?”

“Actually, I’m planning my annual Halloween block party. October is just around the corner, you know?”

He turned back to flip an omelet and I made a gesture behind his back. I held up both hands to indicate the answer to Kat’s obscene question and she nearly choked on the muffin she’d started to nibble.

“You’re kidding,” she said out loud and I laughed.

“What?” Alfred looked back at me suspiciously. His eyes narrowed and he raised one eyebrow at the crimson color Kat’s face was turning, but said nothing.

“So, what’s your costume going to be?” I asked Kat.

“I haven’t decided yet. What about you?” she asked Alfred.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to go this year.”

“What?” Kat and I both asked.

“There’s been a meeting called of all the Hunters.” He sighed. “It’s to discuss the possible changes. They’ve asked that one person from every partnership attend. Since I know how you hate politics, I volunteered.”

“How long will you be gone?” I couldn’t keep the disappointment from my voice. I wasn’t upset that he wouldn’t be at the party. I was upset that he wouldn’t be with me.

“Just Halloween day. I’ll be back the next morning.”

I moved closer to Alfred, and he touched my cheek lightly with his last words. The gesture was not lost on Kat.

“That’s not so bad,” I said as I turned back to see her evil grin. “Shut up,” I mouthed at her.

Halfway through breakfast Kat informed me that she was thinking of hiring the band from The Oasis. I looked surprised and she said, “What? They were pretty good.”

Yes, they were. But they were also werewolves. Kat didn’t know, and I’d have to tell her later. If I’d have let on that I knew the band was all werewolves, I would have had some explaining to do.

*****

The next few months passed by like the autumn breeze. Fall was just beginning, and you could smell it in the air. For the first time in years, I was truly happy. I woke up every morning excited to see the man beside me, and unafraid of what loving him might bring. I was still capable of trust after all, and it eased my mind.

I helped Kat plan her party, like I’d done every year since we’d met. This year’s theme was fairy tales. Kat’s Halloween bash was always a big deal. Everyone in the surrounding area was invited and paid a fee upon arrival to contribute to next year’s party.

Kat had inherited a huge chunk of property smack in the middle of nowhere. There was an enormous field beside her house, and this was where the party was. I’d gone over early that crisp October morning to help her get set up. We roped off an area on one side of the field and designated it for parking. Long tables with colorful decorations and orange tablecloths were set up in front of her house for refreshments. Just in the edge of the field was a platform we’d moved from inside Kat’s large barn. This was for the band from The Oasis that she’d insisted on hiring anyway. The rest of the field would be used as a dance floor. Kat had also rented a couple of port-a-potties for the event, but slipped me a key to her house before I left.

“Just go in the back if you need to go,” she said, “and don’t let anyone see you.”

She locked everyone out of the house, and I couldn’t say I blamed her. Kat’s house had started life as a three room farm house in the early 1900’s. She’d restored it wonderfully and added on quite a bit. It looked like a big log cabin. She’d even restored the original plank floors and the huge beams that ran across the ceiling. Of all the things Kat had decorated, that house was her masterpiece.

*****

A few hours later I was nearly ready to make the thirty minute drive back to Kat’s house. I put on my platform Mary Jane’s, tightened my black corset, and straightened the ruffles on my little frilly dress. After slipping on my red velvet cloak, I had to admit, I made a damn good Red Riding Hood.

It had taken us all day to set up, and by the time I made it back it was dusk. Several dozen people were already there and the band was warming up. They were dressed as medieval style minstrels and it went with the theme. A large banner was strung across the front of the platform that read, “Creature Comforts.”

I smiled as I saw Kat walking toward me in a frilly white dress and carrying a shepherd’s hook. She curtsied expertly and asked, “What do you think?”

“Nice.” I smiled. “So, Little Bo Peep, where’s your sheep?”

Charles had offered to dress to match her, though at the time I’m sure he didn’t know what he was getting into.

“He’s by the chips.” She pointed.

There, I saw a nice looking redheaded man who stood out clearly. He was the only six foot sheep.

“You’re so bad,” I teased.

I decided I would meet Charles later and went over to speak to the band. I introduced myself to the drummer who’d reported my whereabouts to Marco several months ago. To my surprise, they were a nice bunch of guys. They also didn’t seem the least bit interested in causing any trouble, which was why I’d gone over in the first place. I had no doubt of their talent, I just wanted to make sure the “Creature Comforts” weren’t going to wolf out at my friend’s party.

When I turned around I was greeted by Mark, the tall dark bouncer from The Oasis. He was positively dashing, all decked out in black and gold. He looked just like a fairy tale prince. The costume was something in between a musketeer and an eighteenth century courtier. His tattoos were all hidden from sight. His long black hair was swept back into a low ponytail and tied with a gold ribbon.

He made a sweeping bow and removed his hat with its long black feather. “A pleasure to see you m’lady.” He smiled and kissed my hand. “I am Prince Charming.”

I laughed and he winked. “What do you think?”

“Oh, I love it,” I beamed.

“Would you care to dance?” He made another melodramatic bow and I nodded my agreement.

Mark placed his large hands around my waist and lifted me from the band’s platform. Although it was difficult with our height difference, Mark and I had fun attempting to dance together for the next hour. The band was breaking into a chorus of Werewolves of London, just as I rounded the corner. I was stopped in my tracks by the sight of a very large black werewolf standing by the punch bowl. He was at least as big as Bade, and frightening wasn’t an accurate word. There were now over a hundred people present and I heard murmurs throughout the crowd about an incredible makeup job. But that was no makeup. As I looked closer I could see that he was wearing a pair of ripped jeans. It looked like he’d put on a pair of pants way too big for him and then transformed. Shreds of the material still covered all the important parts.

Someone bumped into me. It was Marcy, and she was drunk. “Hi.” She hiccupped.

I looked at her costume and couldn’t help laughing. It wasn’t bad, just funny. She looked like a bratty school girl in a goofy little dress, complete with a bonnet and piggy tails.

“Who are you supposed to be?” I asked.

“Little Miss Muffett. But I still don’t know what a tuffett is.”

It was then that the wolf’s deep laughter reached my ears, and I recognized him.

“Have you seen The Big Bad Wolf?” Marcy asked eagerly.

“Yes,” I said, looking back toward him, “We’ve met.”

I left Marcy to find her tuffett and made my way to the punch bowl. As I navigated through the sea of people I bumped into Elijah. He and two of his fellow police officers were dressed as The Three Little Pigs.

“How are you?” he yelled above the music.

“I’m good.”

I hadn’t heard much from Elijah since Alfred’s return. I think he was afraid to call, but we’d spoken a few times in town. Mostly we kept in touch through Kat. It was good to see him and as he smiled around his piggy nose, I giggled.

The three of them were wearing full body pig suits with prosthetic snouts.

“You guys are hilarious,” I told him.

“A sense of humor should never be wasted.” He smiled.

“I couldn’t agree more,” said another familiar voice.

I looked over my shoulder and saw Luther. I had known Luther since junior high school, though we hadn’t seen each other in years until recently. As it turns out, in the years we’d been apart, my old classmate had been turned into a werewolf. His ex-wife attacked him and in the struggle she was accidentally killed. Yes, Luther was all grown up now, but his sense of humor had not changed. He was wearing a short blue dress, complete with petticoat and white fishnet stockings. His long white blond hair hung in ringlets with little red ribbons.

I doubled over laughing. “What are you supposed to be?”

One of the other pigs with Elijah snorted when he laughed, and my eyes watered as I practically howled.

“I’m Goldilocks.” He smiled broadly.

Just as I was beginning to catch my breath John, the DJ from club Red, walked up. He was one of The Three Bears. I introduced Elijah to Luther and quickly excused myself in another attempt to reach The Big Bad Wolf.

When I finally got close enough to talk, I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to be there. He was bigger than Bade, though only slightly. His muscular physique was nearly as impressive as it was in his human form. One of his monstrous hands was wrapped precariously around a punch glass he was lapping from when he thought no one was looking. I steeled my courage and stepped up to him.

“Hello, Red.” The deep rumble of his voice vibrated along my skin. It had been too long since I heard that voice. Even deepened as it was from the change, I would have known it anywhere.

“Marco, what are you doing here?”

“Your friend invited me,” he said, lapping at the punch.

“Like this?” I gestured toward him.

“I promise not to bite or scratch anyone,” he said bitterly.

The pain in his voice stung. I hadn’t meant to offend.

“I’m sorry, but you are contagious in this form.”

“And I’m not hurting anyone,” he said.

He looked at me then and my heart beat faster, but not entirely with fear. I recognized the dark chocolate eyes that looked down at me, and they were kind. He reached out a clawed hand and I gasped when he threw back my hood.

“You look beautiful, Red.”

“Thank you,” I said softly.

I trembled as his fur brushed against my cheek. Seeing Bade as a man, and then a werewolf had not affected me this way. You’d think that after nearly eight years of werewolf hunting I’d have gotten used to the sight. But I’d never had someone I cared about show up at a party as a werewolf. A real werewolf. I had known what Marco was, but seeing the beast frightened me. I remembered Sam’s warning again and was thankful I hadn’t seen him change.

If I could understand something or make it familiar to me, I would no longer be afraid. I reached trembling hands toward his face and Marco lowered his head so that I could stroke him.

“Don’t be afraid of me, Red. I can’t bear to see that look on your face.”

“I’m sorry,” I said shakily. “I can’t help it.”

I pulled his enormous muzzle closer and looked into the eyes of a man I thought I hadn’t missed. “Your eyes ...”

“I can keep them from turning,” he said softly. “I thought the amber would frighten too many people.”

“If they could make it past this.” I stroked his face. “I think the eyes wouldn’t faze them.”

“I needed to see you. Don’t punish me, Red.” His voice was kind, but I was still afraid. Marco put down the punch. The look in his eyes was determined as he turned back to me. He extended one clawed hand toward me and I hesitated.

“You can trust me, Red,” he said softly.

I placed my small hand in his and let Marco lead me into the nearby trees, away from the crowd. How drastically my judgment had changed, and all because of him. It would never have occurred to me even just a year ago to have let a werewolf get me alone. But this was no mere werewolf. This was the alpha male of the local wolf pack, and he was scarier than I could have ever anticipated judging from the handsome face I was accustomed to.

“Close your eyes,” he said gently.

At first I just shook, but I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I felt his powerful arms wrap around me and the fur of his chest touched my face. I whimpered.

“Shh,” he said as he stroked my hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you would feel this way. Not after what you’ve been through and the things you’ve seen.”

I focused on his voice and felt my heartbeat begin to slow to a more normal pace.

“Red, I know you’ve seen other werewolves. It’s me,” he pleaded.

I wanted to cry. I knew I was hurting Marco’s feelings, but I couldn’t seem to get a grip. “I have seen others,” I said, my voice was breathy. “But in my defense, you’re the scariest.” I gulped. “And you’re hugging me.”

He laughed and that deep masculine rumble helped to break the illusion. It was Marco who held me, not a monster. I rubbed my face against the fur of his chest and breathed in his familiar scent. I let the smell of him wash over my mind and comfort me like it had before, when I was hurt and I had needed him. This beast that held me was Marco and I was in no danger.

“Marco,” I said as I embraced him.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly. “I hear your heartbeat slowing down.”

“Yes. I think I’ll be all right, but don’t let me go.”

My eyes filled with unexpected tears as he squeezed me tighter. I brushed against his inner thigh and realized Marco had dropped to one knee to embrace me. God, I’d missed him. Even the beast who stood before me could not change that, for underneath his fur was the man that I remembered.

We stayed that way for several minutes with my face pressed tightly against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. His fur was soft. By the time I started to pet him, I think he figured out it was safe to speak.

“Kat told me what you’d be wearing,” he confessed. “In light of what I am, and what she’s named me, I couldn’t resist.” He was obviously referring to Kat nicknaming him The Big Bad Wolf.

I laughed softly and he said, “We’re a perfect match.”

After a few more moments of silence he asked, “Where’s Alfred?”

“He couldn’t be here. But I’m sure Kat told you that, or you wouldn’t be here like this.”

“Are you happy?” he asked. “Kat said that you were happy.”

“You’ve been talking to Kat?”

“Just once.”

“Sometimes I wonder whose side she’s on.”

“She’s on yours,” he said gently. “Kat loves you. She wants you to be happy. But she’s a romantic at heart ... and I think she feels sorry for me.”

“I won’t lie to you Marco, I really am happy.” I paused. “But, I’ve missed you,” I whispered against his fur. “I didn’t think I had until I saw you again.”

“I’ll continue to keep my distance,” he said sadly. “But if you’re ever not happy, you know where to find me.”

“Yes,” I said. “I know where to find you. But what you and Kat don’t realize is that I cannot resist forbidden fruit when the tree grows in my back yard.”

He laughed again and it made his fur vibrate against my face. In spite of the situation Marco’s laughter made me feel good. It lightened the mood, and my heart. He let me pull back from him and I looked into his eyes once more.

“Can Bade keep his eyes from turning too?” I asked.

I saw Marco’s brow knit in thought. “No, he can’t. Bade’s eyes just never turn. And when have you seen Bade?”

I told Marco about everything that happened with Richard and all that went on the night he was abducted.

“I knew about everything else, David told me. But he left out the fact that Bade was there.”

I heard a threat in Marco’s voice. “You won’t hurt him?” I asked about David.

“He was deliberately consorting with someone who openly threatens me.”

“But, Marco—”

“That’s why he left it out of his story, and why he must be punished.”

I looked horrified and he explained, “That’s how the pack works. I can’t go easy on someone just because I like them. David knew better.”

I could see the logic in what Marco said, but I still felt sorry for David. Marco really was the scariest werewolf I’d ever seen, and I would hate to see him angry.

“There’s one more thing. After Bade helped us he said, ‘tell Marco we’re even.’ What’s he talking about?”

Marco sighed and looked at the ground. “Do you remember the night when you and the cop were kidnapped?”

“Of course.”

“Well, word of what he’d done had just reached me, and I was an hour away. I changed in order to travel more quickly and made my way to you.”

“You were coming to save me?”

“Yes, but Alfred beat me to it. When I arrived you were struggling with Bade while Alfred shot down the others.”

I had a flashback of a large dark male werewolf knocking Bade off of me.

“You saved me.”

“And him, when I unintentionally knocked him out of the way of Alfred’s gunfire. When he thanked me, I pretended I’d saved him on purpose.”

“Why?”

“In the hopes that there might be some peace between us.” He looked at me as he pleaded, “Understand, Red, this man was my brother. No matter what he may do, or even if I end up having to kill him, I love him.”

“I understand.”

I also understood that somewhere in the battle going on that night Marco might have seen Julie’s crumpled body. I felt guilty for his sake, but not hers.

As we walked back into the clearing Marco froze.

“Who’s the wolf in sheep’s clothing?”

I followed his eyes and saw Charles. “That’s Charles Xander, he’s Kat’s boyfriend.”

“He’s a werewolf,” Marco growled. “And he’s one of Bade’s.”

“What?!”

“How long have they been dating?”

I counted on my fingers. “About six months.”

“And you didn’t know?!”

“I’ve never met him.”

“Is there some place we can talk to Kat in private?”

I sent Marco to the back of the house and met him there after I found Kat. She took one look at Marco and jumped. “What’s going on?”

“It’s all right, Kat. It’s Marco,” I explained.

She nodded, but still looked uneasy. She was clearly afraid, but reacted much better than I had. I suppose my feelings for Marco made seeing his wolfman form more difficult for me.

“We need to talk.” His deep voice rumbled.

We followed Kat into the kitchen where Marco said, “You may want to sit down.”

Kat took a seat, but her eyes never left Marco. The top of his head nearly reached the large beams in her ceiling.

“Whatever it is, just tell me. The suspense is killing me,” she insisted. I touched her shoulder comfortingly as I walked past and heard her thoughts, “And you’re scaring me.”

“How long have you been seeing Charles Xander?”

“What has that got to do with anything?”

“Have you been having sex with him?” he asked bluntly.

“Of course,” she said.

“Rough sex?” Marco pressed.

Apparently, having a werewolf question her about her sex life was a bit much for Kat. “Just what are you getting at?” she asked indignantly.

“Your boyfriend is a werewolf,” Marco said.

Kat just stared at us both like she was waiting for the punch line.

“You’re serious.”

Marco knelt beside her chair. “Has he ever scratched you?”

“No,” she said softly.

“But you’ve been having sex, and you didn’t know?” he pressed.

“That’s right. But why do you keep asking about the sex? I don’t understand.”

“Most new werewolves have to learn control in order to prevent at least a partial, if not complete transformation during orgasm.”

“Excuse me?” Kat and I both asked.

“It takes practice.” He glanced at me and I blushed. “There’s a temporary loss of awareness then, and the sex calls out the beast. That’s one of the main reasons werewolves don’t normally date humans. That and the fact that their strength alone might accidentally break something.”

“What are you saying exactly?” Kat asked.

“Charles Xander has not been a werewolf for very long.”

“And?”

“And he’s either a fast learner—”

“Or?”

“Or he was faking it.”

“That’s it!” Kat yelled, pointing at Marco. “He doesn’t get to talk anymore.” She looked at me and her eyes were wide. “Lilith, please tell me what the hell is going on.”

I did my best to explain what I knew. Once Kat calmed down a little Marco asked, “When did you meet him?”

“He came in the shop looking for some picture frames.”

“After he’d seen the pictures of Lilith in the window?”

“Yes. Son of a bitch. He came in because of you,” she said to me.

“I’m sorry,” I replied.

“Don’t be. I’ll deal with his ass.”

“Maybe we should all have a word with him,” Marco suggested.

Kat stormed outside to get Charles and Marco turned to me. “Could you help me please? I’m dying of thirst.”

I decided that a glass was too small and filled a large vase with water instead.

“So, how long did it take for you to be able to control the beast?” I asked.

“Are you asking how long it took for me to gain the level of control needed to become alpha, or how long it took before I didn’t transform during sex?”

“Both.”

“Most will never have the level of control that I possess, in either area,” he added the last with a wink and it looked odd to see Marco’s facial expressions on a werewolf.

“But you partially transformed that night in the tub.”

“You truly have no idea what your presence does to my control,” he growled seductively.

I held out the vase. While Marco lapped at the water I said, “I don’t mind helping you, but why not just change back?”

“Because it takes a lot of energy and the night is young. Once I change, I try to stay in wolf form for at least a few hours. I’ll change back somewhere in the woods before I leave.”

“That makes sense. Want some more water?”

“Yes,” he panted.

There we stood, Little Red Riding Hood holding a large decorative vase for The Big Bad Wolf to drink. We were standing like this when Kathryn came back with Charles. He cringed at the sight of Marco and hit the floor, abasing himself in the wolf king’s presence. I’d never seen anything like it. I also wasn’t used to seeing how other people reacted to Marco. I began to understand what he had meant when Marco suggested I was allowed to take many liberties with my treatment of him that others did not enjoy. Charles’ reaction said clearly that we were in the presence of a king.

Marco didn’t really have to ask for an explanation. Charles rolled his eyes upward from where he crouched on the floor and took one good look at Marco. He spilled the whole story. He had come into the shop and asked Kat out in order to spy on me for Bade. However, when Bade gave up on obtaining a sample of my blood, Charles stuck around. He insisted that he cared for Kat and that’s why he stayed. Charles also insisted that no harm had been done. But from the look on Kathryn’s face I knew that wasn’t true. At the end of his lengthy explanation Kat said to Charles quietly, “I think you should go.”

He looked to Marco and when the king did not object, he backed out of the room, still abasing himself.

“You feel like company?” I asked Kat.

She just stood there for a moment, clearly still in shock.

“Would you like us to stay for a while?” Marco asked gently.

She nodded, but seemed incapable of speech for the time being. Kat sat back down looking numb while I fixed her a drink. Marco propped against the door frame that opened into the living room, looking like the most unusual bodyguard I’d ever seen. The party went on outside without us. Most everyone had been there before, and would disperse on their own near dawn. Marco excused himself after hearing that Kathryn hadn’t eaten yet and returned with a large vegetable tray and some sandwiches.

Kat had started to talk a little now, but still remained strangely non vocal about what just happened. The mood was finally lifted when I helped Marco get a bite to eat. He was trying not to make an animal of himself, but could not grip the veggies or the sandwiches with his large clawed hands. Those hands were meant for destruction, not parties that provided finger food.

“Let me help you,” I offered with a smile.

“You don’t mind?” he rumbled, sounding like he never would have asked.

“No,” I answered as I took a seat on the living room floor beside him.

I really didn’t mind. While Kat got up to fix herself another drink, I ran a large chunk of broccoli through some ranch dressing and dangled it above Marco’s mouth like a treat. I almost withdrew the offer as he opened his mouth, giving me a really good look at his long sharp teeth. He took the broccoli from my fingers hesitantly.

“My, what big teeth you have,” I joked, trying to make light of the situation.

“Careful, Red. Surely you know the next line?”

I did know the next line, and for a moment I forgot that there was a werewolf sitting beside me. Just for a minute, it was only Marco, and I wanted nothing more than to hear him threaten to eat me.

“How about some meat?” he asked.

“What?”

“Meat, I am a carnivore, you know?”

I blushed dark enough to match my crimson cape. It was obvious where my mind was and Marco laughed at my embarrassment.

“Get your mind out of my pants, Red, I’m hungry.”

I heard laughter from the direction of the kitchen and turned to see Kat standing in the door. “Thanks for staying guys. You really didn’t have to, but I have to admit I’m enjoying the show.”

She put her drink on the coffee table in front of me and walked toward the back door. “Actually,” she began, “I’ve got something you might find more satisfying than picking the meat out of those sandwiches.”

We both watched as she stepped outside and I turned to Marco, “Thank you.”

“For what? Not eating you?” he teased.

“For staying. She’s my friend, you didn’t have to.”

He placed one large hand against my cheek, gently cradling my face with his long fingers. “You don’t owe me thanks. I wanted to stay. I care what happens to you, Red, and I care what happens to your friends.” He sighed. “Besides, I can’t help but feel that what happened with Charles is somehow my fault.”

“What? How can you say that? He’s a grown man, his actions were his own.”

“But I should have paid closer attention. I knew you were a target for some of their plans, I should have realized your friends were also in danger.”

“You can’t be all things to all people, Marco, and I’m sure Kat never expected you to be her bodyguard.”

He withdrew his hand from my face, slowly so as not to scratch me, and placed it on my knee. The contact was casual, yet intimate. Being close to Marco had never seemed awkward. I thought that would have changed, especially considering it was not merely Marco who was near me, but a clearly recognizable wolfman. But his presence was the same. The hand that gently touched my skin gave me the same feeling as if he weren’t covered in fur. And when I closed my eyes, it was not a monster’s voice I heard, it was Marco.

Before anything else could be said, Kat came back in holding what looked like more than half of a large ham. “Is this enough meat for you?” she said suggestively.

“How did I miss that?” Marco asked.

“It was behind that gaudy talking candy dish. I don’t think many people saw it.”

She put the platter with the ham on the coffee table and scooted it toward Marco. “Here,” she said. “I owe you something for the show I got to see tonight.”

He looked confused. “You mean what we were just—?”

“I’m not talking about how much fun it is to watch you two try and resist each other. I’m talking about how Charles reacted to you.”

Marco and I exchanged a look. We were both hesitant to comment, but Kat continued.

“I enjoyed seeing that lying bastard eat the floor.”

“It’s good to be the king.” Marco half smirked and I smacked his arm.

Kat however, burst out laughing and seemed to genuinely feel better. Marco still had reservations about tearing into the ham in front of us, so I fed it to him in strips while Kat launched in to a surprisingly entertaining rant about how much of a bastard Charles was.

I think it did her good to just talk without having to worry about being judged. In the middle of this display, she began to strip her costume. As she walked down the hall she yelled, “You want to borrow some pjs, Lil? That corset can’t be comfortable.”

She was right, it wasn’t and since it looked like we’d be staying much longer, I accepted her offer.

“Can I watch?” Marco asked as I got up to follow Kat.

I just smiled, but he was only teasing. Marco clearly wanted to finish the ham while we were gone. As it turned out, Kat still had a pair of my pajamas in her closet where I’d spent the night with her after her last horrendous breakup. She’d called me crying and I came running, equipped with a good bottle of wine and a shoulder to cry on. She changed into a pair of hot pink pajamas with matching fuzzy slippers while I put on the red silk ensemble I had left behind from the last “lying bastard” incident.

As I walked back up the hall, I was painfully reminded of the last time I had worn red silk pajamas. They had been Marco’s. Kat had gone to the bathroom, leaving me alone with him again. When I walked back into the living room, he’d already cleaned up.

“Would you help me wash my hands?” he asked.

We went into the kitchen and I turned on the water after putting some soap in Marco’s palm. I looked up and caught him smiling down at me. Even with the wolf face, he was clearly thinking wicked thoughts.

“I’d forgotten how good you look in red silk pajamas,” he said softly.

“Marco.”

“I’m sorry, Red. But you have no idea how much I’ve thought about you, how many times I lay awake staring at the phone hoping you would come to your senses and call me.”

“Don’t, Marco. Please, don’t. I can’t take it.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Looking at you here tonight, it isn’t hard to imagine that just for a moment, you’re mine. Maybe the beast is just getting the better of me.”

“We should stop this line of thinking, before it gets the better of me.”

He raised one eyebrow and I clarified, “Don’t misunderstand. I have no desire to have sex with a wolfman. But once you change back, if we’re still toying with these thoughts …”

“Yes?” he prompted.

“Marco, I don’t want to do something I’ll regret.”

“And I would prefer to wait until sleeping with me is not something you would add to your list of regrets.”

After our conversation, Marco and I decided to stay with Kat the rest of the night. Once we were both fairly certain she would be all right, we decided to leave.

Marco went to find Luther and I went to find my car. I had just opened the door when he called over the tops of the other vehicles, “Red?”

“Yes?”

“If you ever feel like shoe shopping, give me a call.”

He was referring to a comment he made during the week I stayed with him. He used shoes as a metaphor for men, and said he was content to be the comfortable pair of shoes in the back of my closet. I might not wear them often, but I knew they were there when I needed something comfortable.

I smiled at him and got in my car. As I drove past, I waved goodnight to The Big Bad Wolf, Goldilocks, and one of The Three Bears.

“Turn on your radio,” Luther yelled.

I flipped the switch to my favorite local station. They were having an all request Halloween party. When I reached the end of the driveway, the smooth voiced DJ announced, “This one goes out to Red from Marco. He says, at least he didn’t wear a sheep suit.”

I started my drive home to the sound of Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs, Hey there Little Red Riding Hood. I couldn’t help laughing.

Epilogue

After that night Kat said Charles wanted to stay together, but she broke things off. She said she wasn’t in love with Charles, but had really liked him. She was disappointed, but Kat said she couldn’t be with a man she couldn’t trust.

Richard has been a bit distant since the incident with Mallory, but he seems fine otherwise. It will most likely take some time for him to be able to deal with everything he saw. There’s been no further trace of Dr. Bill Williams, but last I heard Bade is still looking for him.

As for me, I was in a daze after seeing Marco again. Once that wore off, I felt positively shaken. All of my emotions had been mixed together, and I fought for perspective. It’s like driving in a heavy fog with your lights on. You know there’s a road out there somewhere, but the only thing you can see is fog.

I just want to be loved. I want someone to see me for all I am and all that I might become ... and not be afraid of what they see. I need to be touched, to be held, to be alive. I long for a love that time and my insecurities cannot erase. It looks as though I may have found what I’m looking for with Alfred.

As for Marco, he says he is content to be my comfortable old shoes. We shall see if that’s enough.

*****

Marco’s proposal for the enactment of the werewolf code was approved on planet Terra. Werewolves will no longer be killed on sight and were returned their legal rights. Earth followed suit.

On New Year’s Day the announcement was made on news stations all over the world. The broadcasts acknowledged the existence of the lycanthropy virus, but it was not told where this virus originated. Of course world leaders knew, but they chose to keep the existence of planet Terra from the public along with the origins of the virus.

Some places celebrated, others thought the broadcasts must be a joke. In many locations there were riots in the streets. From one extreme to the other, Alfred and I watched it on the news.

However, it was the President of the United States who finished his public address with the words that Alfred had predicted would be used, “Werewolves are real, and they are among us.”

THE END

Lilith Mercury’s story continues in book three of the Werewolf Hunter series, The Dread Moon.

THE DREAD MOON

By

Tracey H. Kitts

Chapter One

The smell of coffee woke me early, and I wasn’t entirely happy about it. But, the longer I breathed in the tantalizing aroma, the more I wanted a cup. Thunder rumbled outside, and due to the storm, it was still dark. I could have slept really well for at least a few more hours. However, good coffee like good men should never be wasted. Good coffee isn’t always easy to find, but a good man is even harder to come by. Then again, I had an unfair advantage. All I had to do was go into the kitchen to find both.

It had been a week since the announcement that werewolves were indeed real, and they could be your next door neighbor. For the most part, I had to say people were handling the news well. Maybe they were in shock.

As for me, all was well except perhaps my dreams. I kept dreaming about a man, a particular man. I have dreamed of him off and on since I was sixteen. I guess you could say he is quite literally the man of my dreams, and he had showed up twice in the past two days. First, I dreamed he was lying beside me in bed with his arms wrapped tightly around me. I felt safe until I realized what was going on. I woke up startled, almost expecting to find a strange man in my bed. I was relieved to find Alfred instead.

The next day I fell asleep on the sofa downstairs. This time, I dreamed I was falling, only it felt more like floating. He was telling me to fall, to let myself fall. “It is all right. I will catch you.” I felt myself floating down to him and he caught me. I never doubted that he would. Never once did I feel any fear, nor did I ever expect to hit the ground. All I can tell you after nearly a lifetime of dreams is that he is tall, dark, and ravishing. But lately, upon awakening, I could almost see his face. I know that sounds strange. I’ve been dreaming of the man for years and I can’t tell you what his face looks like. It’s like this, in my dreams I see him clearly. However, once I’m awake, I can’t describe him.

I flopped onto my back with a sigh. I’d fallen asleep in Alfred’s downstairs bedroom the night before. The sheets were cool in the places where I hadn’t touched, and I stretched until my toes reached the cool bits of cover near the edge of the bed.

“Lilith,” I heard Alfred’s voice call from the kitchen.

He had left the door open, and his voice echoed down the hall. I threw my arm over my eyes. He’d left the bed curtains open too. Alfred called me again and I growled. It was bad enough the sun was in my face, but why did we have to get up so damn early?

“What?” I asked.

But by the time I finally spoke Alfred was standing in the door with a sarcastic smile on his face.

“Get up,” he ordered.

“Why?”

He walked over grabbed the covers near the foot of the bed and snatched. I curled up into a ball as I rolled onto my side and groaned, “For the love of God!”

He scooped me up before I could object further and lifted me off the bed.

“I thought there was a storm outside?” I said, looking over his shoulder.

“There is,” he said with a smile. “You just managed to catch a lucky patch of sunlight between the clouds.”

I rested my head dejectedly against his shoulder while Alfred carried me to the kitchen.

“Why won’t you let me sleep?”

“Because we’ve got a lot to do today,” he said as he kissed the top of my head.

As we entered the kitchen the smell of fresh coffee so close at hand seemed to stir me. I had completely forgotten we had a ball to attend shortly. The Hunter’s Ball was an annual event on planet Terra, and one of the rare occasions I found reason enough to visit my home planet.

“Oh, I forgot that was today,” I mumbled as Alfred lowered me to the floor.

I sat at the table and rubbed my eyes in a desperate attempt to keep them open. The clock on the microwave said it was seven o’clock. From the look of things, Alfred had been up for a while. He was still lounging around in a pair of deep blue silk pajamas, but breakfast was nearly done.

It had been five months since we’d decided to stop hiding our feelings for each other. I had to say, they were the best five months of my life. It was so wonderful to love and have that love returned. It wasn’t like I’d never been in love before, we both knew this wasn’t my first time. But every time I looked at Alfred it felt that way. His embrace stole away some of the bitter disappointments I had suffered. Alfred had always seemed to have such command of the situation, no matter what the situation was. If he had any doubts about us, they didn’t show. I trusted him with my life, in so many ways.

I realized Alfred had been talking and I’d been lost in a daydream, watching him walk around the room. His dark hair was tousled from sleep, and the bronze of his skin seemed somehow diminished next to the blue. But no amount of dark color could ever make Alfred look truly pale. He was a welcome sight to my still sleep filled eyes, and all I could think to do was smile at him.

“Are you with me this time?” He smiled and placed a mug of my favorite coffee underneath my nose.

“Mmhm.”

He went over with me exactly when we needed to get down to the transporter in his lab in order to make the party on time. Next, he reviewed the guest list. There were going to be people there Alfred thought would benefit from seeing me. Since the role of The Hunters had now begun to undergo some serious changes, there were talks of forming a new task force. This group would be known as H.A.V.O.C. (Hunter Assault Team for Violators of Werewolf Code.) A decision would be made soon as to who would head this group in different areas of the worlds. For our area, I was shaping up to be the most likely candidate. I didn’t exactly relish the thought of having more responsibility, or of being in what was sure to be a public spotlight. But I couldn’t let my father down, and he was rallying strongly for me to have the position. The Wizard Council would be at the Hunter’s Ball, and I needed to make a good impression.

“So, what are you wearing?” Alfred asked.

“Well, this event is formal, so that calls for formal attire.” I smiled.

I had deliberately not let Alfred see the dress I was planning to wear. I was shopping with my best friend Kat when we found it. The moment I saw the dress I knew it would be perfect. Kathryn Roberts and I had been the best of friends since I’d rescued a former boyfriend of hers from a werewolf attack nearly five years ago. In the years I had known her, Kat had never lied to me about anything and she swore I looked good in this dress. I valued her opinion.

Alfred looked at me with a questioning smirk and I added, “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Kat called a few hours later while I was getting ready.

“I’m nervous,” I confided.

“About what? You’ve been to these things before, right?”

“Yes, but I’ve never been under such pressure to let myself be seen. I’ve always sort of blended into the background, and I’ll be honest, Kat, I liked the background.”

“Yeah, but they need to see that you’re a reasonably competent individual, now don’t they?” she said sensibly.

“All they have to do is look at my track record to know I get the job done.”

“They also need someone who will look good on camera,” she went on like I hadn’t spoken, “cause, let’s face it, you will be in the public eye once this Havoc thing is announced.”

“You’re right.” I sighed. “I might as well try to make myself look like a worthy poster child.”

“So, do you think he’ll be there?”

“Who?”

“The man from your dreams, of course! You’ve got to admit he’s been showing up more and more lately.”

I honestly had never thought to associate the appearance of the tall, dark stranger in my dreams with the ball, and I told her so.

“But, it’s a possibility, isn’t it? Your dreams have a creepy way of coming true, Lil. I can’t help but think that you’ll meet him soon.” She paused. “But what will you do then? I mean, you’ve got no idea who this man is, or if he’s …”

“If he’s what?”

“I dunno, evil or something.”

“Well, you’re a tremendous comfort.” I grunted as I pulled my shoes from underneath the bed with some difficulty.

“Sorry, it’s just been driving me crazy. I want to know who he is!”

“You and me both. So,” I began hesitantly, “how are you doing?”

Kathryn had dumped her semi-serious boyfriend fairly recently. The reason I knew Charles Xander had been semi-serious is because they’d split at the end of October, and it was now January and Kat was not dating someone new. It turned out Charles was a werewolf with close ties to Bade Garren. Bade was a challenger to the leader of the local werewolf pack, and had sent Charles to get close to Kat in order to spy on me. We got this information out of him at Kat’s Halloween party along with the help of the king of the local wolf pack, Marco Barak. It was Marco who had proposed the werewolf code to the council, and Marco who also haunted my dreams. I thought that once Alfred returned from his trip to Terra last August I would be able to put Marco out of my mind, but that was only half true. It was easier to ignore him, but I was never able to completely shut him out.

“I’m okay,” Kat answered after a short pause. “You know, I didn’t dump him because he was a werewolf, right?”

“I figured.”

“I dumped him because he was a liar.”

“Trust me, I can relate.”

Kathryn, who knew my track record for picking up losers, only laughed.

A short while after our conversation, I was staring in the mirror at my reflection. The dress Kat and I decided on was black. I had always thought I looked good in black, and I was hoping everyone else would agree. The dress was sleeveless, and fit close against my throat, with a clasp behind the neck. I wanted to avoid drawing attention to my breasts. I felt it was an inappropriate occasion to show cleavage. Given that I needed to make a competent impression, I didn’t want to flash my assets. The back was open below the clasp. Though it did not reveal too much, the dip in back was low enough that wearing a bra was out of the question. The shimmering fabric draped over my slender waist and the curve of my hips, falling in silken splendor to my ankles. There was a split on the left side that came to mid-thigh. High enough to be sexy, but low enough to avoid looking slutty. My shoes were black leather with a three inch heel. Across the top were straps that tied just above my ankles.

When I was fairly certain that I was presentable, I went downstairs to meet Alfred. I saw him at the foot of the stairs and my heart stopped. He was standing there, checking his watch and looking impatient. He looked up and saw me, and his mouth opened slightly as if he was going to say something, but no words came. He looked wonderful. Alfred wore a black tuxedo, complete with one of those neat little bowties. Where other men might have looked like a penguin, he managed to look like he’d stepped out of a really sexy spy novel and into my home.

As I reached the last few steps, I stretched my hand up playfully and closed Alfred’s mouth.

“Thank you,” I said as I smiled up at him.

His kiss was soft and unexpected against my lips. Every time Alfred touched me I wanted him, and this time was no exception.

“Aren’t we running behind?” I asked.

“Yes.” He smiled, and kissed me again.

I pulled back reluctantly. “Then we should get going.”

He looked disappointed. “Are you upset with me?”

“No.” I smiled. “But we don’t have time to finish what you were about to start.”

My heels clicked on the hard wood of the last few steps and I found that even with a three inch heel, I only came to the middle of Alfred’s chest. Dr. Alfred Moody is six-foot-five, and normally, my five-foot-four frame came to just slightly below the middle of his chest. I loved how small and fragile I felt in comparison to him. I enjoyed Alfred’s strength. Looking up into his handsome face, I found it hard to believe he was my father’s age. Of course with the Terran life span being what it is, he didn’t look fifty-one. Alfred could easily have passed for thirty-something, making his assumed age seem appropriate for any prying eyes in the small town where I lived.

We descended the dark narrow passageway that led down to Alfred’s lab in silence. I think we were both dreading the ball for different reasons. I was nervous about people watching my every move. But I believe Alfred was more worried about his old partner, Jacob Mercury, my father and commander of The Hunters. Neither one of us had exactly told him about “us” but I didn’t feel it was necessary. My dad had always been clever, and I’m sure he’d worked it all out by now. Alfred however, did not like to have loose ends about anything, and felt we should say something. He simply had no idea how that topic of conversation should be approached.

I stood back while Alfred pressed the tile that would transport us across the street from the headquarters of The Hunters. The building itself had many transporters; however they had been shut down for the event for security reasons. I traveled by transporter about once a year, because that was all I could stand. I had never grown accustomed to the awful sort of freeze dried feeling it gave me. The circle of small white tiles began to emit a soft glow, and I stepped into them with Alfred. I was careful not to touch him. Wouldn’t want my particles mixing with someone else.

Instantly, I had the sensation of strong cold hands reaching deep inside of me and it felt like my body was being frozen from the inside out. Just when the feeling became so cold it hurt, nearly to the point of terrible pain, it was over. I swayed slightly, and Alfred’s strong hand on my shoulder steadied me.

“Shit, I hate these things,” I said, rubbing my bare arms to fight off the nonexistent cold.

“Yeah, you never quite get used to that feeling,” Alfred agreed, though he seemed to be having no difficulty. I think he was just being sympathetic.

Terra is not what most people would expect in an alien planet. Although there are many advanced technologies available, there were no massive robots walking the streets, or spacecraft zooming through the air. Of course, one reason for that was the airspace over The Hunter’s headquarters was restricted. As we stepped out onto the street, I got a good look at my favorite thing about my home planet, its moons.

Chapter Two

Dusk had just settled over the landscape, casting a soft purple glow. The sky on Terra always had a faint purplish tint, but at night it seemed to glow like a deep gem. Planet Terra has two moons, and that night they hung like magnificent crescents in the sky. Their soft light illuminated a path up the street, where others could be seen making their way to the same destination. The Hunter’s headquarters rose toward the sky like a large silver bullet pointed to the heavens.

“We might as well get this over with.” I sighed, taking the lead toward the building.

Headquarters was actually covered with mirrors facing all angles of the many streets it sat in the middle of. But, to the casual observer the bullet shaped building looked like just that, a big silver bullet with no windows and only one entrance. It was as I approached this entrance that I ran into the last person I ever expected to see.

Bradley Daniel stood directly in front of the steps leading into headquarters, and he had the nerve to smile at me. Bradley and I had dated for three and a half years. Turns out he was married. He lied to me, cheated, and everything else in between, and he had the nerve to smile at me. I wanted to hit him. But like so many times before, my heart hurt when I looked at Bradley. He was still good looking, with a tall muscular physique, and dark close cut hair. He was definitely my type. However, Bradley turned out to be someone entirely different than the person I thought I knew. The man who stood before me was not the man I’d fallen in love with. I was in love with an ideal, and Bradley no longer fit the profile. I decided not to speak, and tried to walk past him.

“You’re not even going to speak?” he asked with a conversational tone.

“Why bother with a hello when goodbye is so unimportant to you?” I said. I fought to keep my voice calm and even, but it did not have the casual tone his did. My voice was strained, and what I said was meant to sting.

“Would it matter if I apologized?” With these words he put his hand on my wrist and stopped me where I stood on the second step.

I removed my hand from him with as much dignity as I could muster, but the look of disgust on my face must have been unmistakable.

“No, it wouldn’t,” I said softly, “and don’t ever touch me.”

“I had no idea …” he began stupidly.

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me, Bradley. You never really did have a clue, did you?”

“Listen, I—”

“Am a coward and a liar and should know when to keep my mouth shut,” I interrupted with a hiss. “How dare you presume to touch me, to speak to me, after the way you acted?” I turned my back on him again as I said, “You and I have nothing more to say to each other.”

I looked back over my shoulder at the other people in the street and saw Alfred approaching. He had been stopped by a colleague, but was walking faster after having noticed who I was speaking to.

“I just thought that since I was divorced now …”

I was disgusted. “Now that you’re divorced you can dedicate more time to yourself. After all, that was always your first love,” I said with as much contempt as possible.

“Is everything all right?” Alfred asked, as he walked up and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“We were having a conversation,” Bradley answered, though the question had been directed at me.

“No, you were not,” Alfred said coldly.

We turned to walk up the steps and Bradley made the mistake of touching Alfred’s shoulder. “Just what do you think you’re—?”

But he never got to finish the sentence. Without hesitation, Alfred rounded on him. Even at close range, Alfred’s punch had some serious power behind it. In the blink of an eye, Bradley lay at the foot of the steps with blood gushing from his broken nose. I admit I was shocked, but very pleased all the same.

Alfred stepped forward and growled menacingly, “Stay down you son of a bitch.”

Bradley pressed a handkerchief to his nose, but he stayed put. Coward. I touched Alfred’s arm lightly as I walked past him, letting him know without words to stay put. I knelt beside Bradley and said sweetly, “Eat shit and live, Bradley.”

As I stood up he replied, “Don’t you mean eat shit and die?”

“No, I want you to remember the flavor.”

We made one more attempt to enter the building, and I realized with some horror that a crowd had gathered. Alfred was on the fourth step this time when Bradley, who was following me, spoke again, “I just thought that—”

This time, the punch knocked him hard enough that he skidded slightly when he hit the ground. I turned to him once more and said something I had previously not been given the chance to say, “Goodbye, Bradley.” He actually looked startled before he passed out.

When Alfred and I finally reached the top of the steps, we found my father amongst the gawking crowd. Jacob Mercury stood by the open front doors with his arms crossed. Some might have considered his look stern, but I knew him too well. He was thinking about something. My father, like Alfred, did not look his age. The gray streak in his red beard and fine lines near his eyes were the only indications that he was over thirty-five. He is only five-foot-ten, but his presence seemed to fill the large doorway. I saw Alfred hesitate, but just for a moment. My father was the only person I think Alfred had ever been afraid of.

But then he smiled at us both and shook Alfred’s hand.

“Glad you could come,” he said genially.

I threw my arms around his neck. “Hey, Daddy,” I whispered as I kissed his cheek.

He looked back down the steps as a few good Samaritans attempted to get Bradley on his feet again. From the look of things, he still wasn’t conscious. I can’t really say I was sorry, but I tried not to let it show. Part of me insisted it wasn’t wrong to take some small pleasure in his misery, especially after the way he’d treated me. Then again, I couldn’t cast stones.

“That’s gonna leave a mark.” My father winked at Alfred.

“With any luck,” Alfred said with a sarcastic smile.

“People have been waiting for you,” he said, smiled at me and walked inside.

Alfred and I followed a few paces behind. “See.” I smiled at Alfred. “No explanation necessary.”

Alfred looked relieved, and after seeing Bradley get some of what he had coming, I felt the same way. This was not my first trip to headquarters, but the place never failed to give me pause. The high arch of the ceiling in the entrance was covered with a magnificent mural. Michelangelo, as some may have guessed was “not of this world,” and it was one of his finest masterpieces which adorned the high ceiling. The painting depicted a pack of werewolves kneeling at the feet of one of the few remaining images of the first Hunter. He had always seemed so familiar to me, standing tall and dark underneath the full moon, but that night something was different. I felt like I knew him, but that was not possible. I realized Alfred was leaving me behind and picked up my pace, attempting to clear my head of the ridiculous thought.

I glanced around the entrance hall once more. Here people mingled near a table of refreshments in the corner, where a rather inebriated wizard kept spiking the punch with a flick of his wrist. The bright orange of his robes reflected in the highly polished tile of the floor. Directly in the center of the room, and also highly polished, was the emblem of The Hunters. At first glance, it looked like only a full moon, but this was known as The Blood Moon, and it glowed a deep and sinister red that reflected onto the faces of those who passed over its surface.

As I reached the far end of the room I turned back, looking once more to the high ceiling. The image of the kneeling werewolves faded into another picture. In this picture the first Hunter was standing atop a menacing gargoyle high on a building top in the middle of a raging storm. His shirt was torn open to reveal a magnificently chiseled physique. On the left side of his chest were fresh claw marks. His cloak billowed in the wind and a whip could be seen slashing through the air, one held in each capable hand. His long dark hair, like his cloak, seemed to blend with the darkness, and become a part of the storm. All of this gave an incredibly powerful and imposing impression, but there was something in his gaze that captured me. The deep emerald green of his eyes seemed to pierce my soul as I stood there, blocking traffic, staring.

“Are you coming?” Alfred touched my shoulder and I jumped.

“Yeah,” I answered breathlessly.

I followed Alfred down the hall and into the enormous ball room. I saw my father waiting near the far side of the room with a man who could only be Aldan Medwin, the eldest member of The Wizard Council. I recognized him instantly from the picture I’d seen several years ago. He hadn’t changed. His long silvery white beard and hair blended together with the shimmering blue gray of his robes. The other wizards present that night seemed to enjoy the fact that they didn’t exactly blend in. To the right of the door, I saw another council member, Eldon Jokull. His name literally translates to mean, old glacier. However, he is affectionately known as Old Man Winter. Despite the fact that he was in his eighties, Jokull’s long dark hair contrasted nicely with the deep cold-looking blue of his robes. He appeared every bit as frigid as his ability to manipulate ice and snow.

He was deeply engrossed in conversation with the final council member in attendance that evening, Abraham Conner, whose name translates to wise father of nations. Like all powerful wizards, he had a nickname as well. Abraham Conner had the ability to manipulate and distort time. It was for this reason he was known as Father Time.

Before facing the dreaded conversation which surely awaited me, I took a brief look around and saw that the Icarum were in attendance this year. The Icarum are a race of winged people from the planet Icknar. Years ago, the lycanthropy virus spread to their planet as well. The Icarum cannot contract the virus, so there is no such thing as winged werewolves. However, this did not prevent other people from moving to the planet who could contract lycanthropy. When they learned of the actions Terra had taken to attempt some sort of control, The Hunters set up offices on Icknar at their request, eventually recruiting many of its people. Several thousand of the Icarum now lived on Terra, and some had lived on Earth years ago, but Earth wasn’t really ready for winged people just yet.

I was halfway across the floor to where my father and Aldan stood when a familiar face alighted gracefully in my path. I had not seen Julius Blight since my days as a trainee, and couldn’t help but smile at his appearance. Julius is around six-foot-two, though the wings always made him look taller to me. His soft lavender eyes twinkled as he smiled at me and bowed elegantly, causing his startling white hair to cascade over his shoulders.

“It’s good to see you, Julius,” I said, smiling.

He rose to his full height again and his luscious lips curled into a smile as he brushed the hair back from his face. Julius and I had dated briefly while we’d trained together. He was still every bit as sexy as I’d remembered, but I did not love him. All the same, it was good to look at him again. There’s nothing like a gorgeous man with wings.

“You look well,” he said.

“And you.” I nodded appreciatively.

Apparently deciding to skip pretense entirely he asked, “Would you like to dance?” As he said this, Julius looked up. There, among what appeared to be stars on the ceiling, twirled the other Icarum Hunters and their dance partners.

“That can wait can’t it?” said a deep, but gentle voice from behind Julius.

We both turned to see Aldan Medwin, a kind smile on his lined face.

“You can of course have her back later,” he assured him with a smile. “But I’ve been waiting quite a while for the pleasure.”

Julius stepped aside with another dramatic bow and flew back toward the ceiling. Aldan then turned to me, still wearing a smile and inquired, “Would you care to dance?”

I must have looked surprised for he continued, “Surely it doesn’t shock you so much that an old man would like to dance with you?”

“No,” I replied hesitantly, “It’s just that …”

“Go, on. You don’t have to worry about offending me, I assure you.”

“Well, I know that only seven wizards are born every century and I’ve seen four here tonight.” I paused. “I feel privileged, but I never expected to dance with one.”

It may have sounded like a kiss up sort of statement, but it was true. I was a little awestruck, for lack of a better word.

“You have a way with words, my dear. But may I offer a bit of advice?”

I nodded.

“Never trust a wizard who cannot dance.” His eyes sparkled with this comment, and I knew that I liked Aldan Medwin.

The band immediately struck up a waltz and I took his arm without hesitation.

“What can I do for you Mr. Medwin?” I asked politely.

“Please, call me Aldan. And it is I who am your humble servant,” he replied. “You know,” Aldan remarked as he twirled me around dramatically, “I cannot help but feel that I know you. Perhaps it is your striking resemblance to a former member of the council.”

I froze for a moment; I knew who he was talking about. My great, great grandfather, Mathias Alexander, had been the last member of the council to die in office. It was his vacated council seat that Aldan Medwin had taken over.

“So, you know him?” he asked, apparently noticing my pause.

“Yes.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“It’s nice that you don’t try to hide the fact, for that would only make the conversation more difficult, don’t you think?” He twirled me again with these words.

When I didn’t respond he continued, “You see, I knew The Seducer well and holding your hand is almost like being in his presence again. I noticed your father’s physical resemblance as well, but I feel his power in you.” He looked at me intently for a moment and then smiled again. “Have no great concern, my dear, I will keep this matter between us. It is not the business of everyone that the power of The Seducer has been reborn. After all, he’s not exactly on the same team any more, is he?”

I laughed at this. “Surely you don’t mean people would be offended because his powers have passed to a woman?”

“Offended? No. Intimidated, perhaps, maybe even afraid.”

“And you, what do you think about it?” I couldn’t resist asking.

“I am … intrigued.”

A new song started to play and he quickly asked, “Do you tango?”

I barely had time to nod, before he swept me off my feet. I gripped his hand tightly, deliberately pressing my bare skin against his. I wanted to know what he really thought. To my chagrin he responded abruptly, “If you would like to know what I think, I would much prefer to be asked.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond, but he went on as if I had apologized, “It’s quite all right. After all, most people would never know the difference. But if you want to know what I really think, it is a bit frightening, and yet fascinating.”

“What is exactly?”

“The thought of being able to experience his power from a new perspective, of course.”

He dipped me as I replied, “Would you feel better if I promised not to seduce you?”

“My dear,” he replied with a warm smile, “your very presence has the effect.”

Mathias Alexander did not have the best of reputations, but he was one of the most powerful wizards in recorded history. He had passed on to me what was known as the voice of seduction. His power was seduction, and everything about him worked toward this end. I felt a power warm and sinuous flow through my veins as I flipped that switch in my mind that controlled my power. I took every unfulfilled desire, every explicit fantasy, and put them into my voice. Aldan pulled me against him and I stroked his long silver hair gently as I purred, “I assure you, my voice can do much more.”

He gasped as a look of complete rapture passed over his features. “So it can,” he replied breathlessly.

“I am not irresponsible with my abilities,” I said, my voice returned to normal.

“All the same, I am impressed. I did not expect you to have mastered the voice.”

After a few moments pause, and the completion of our dance, he informed me, “I am confident you would do well in heading up your local division of H.A.V.O.C.”

“Thank you—”

“However, I feel it would be a waste of your capabilities to limit you to it.”

“Excuse me?” I wasn’t sure I liked where the conversation was leading.

“I would like for you to head the division entirely, having all other division leaders answer to you.”

“And who would I answer to?”

“Why, to your father, of course.” He gestured toward where my father stood near the back of the room talking to Alfred.

“But why—?”

“Am I so confident? Because I like you.”

“But—”

“And I don’t like a lot of people.” He smiled. “I trust you, though I couldn’t say why. You’re a good person, Lilith. Never let yourself be told otherwise.”

I was taken slightly aback by his comments. “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

“Mathias was a good person too,” he said kindly.

My eyes stung unexpectedly and my vision became a bit misty.

Aldan either didn’t notice I was fighting back tears at the mention of the ancestor I’d never met in person, or he chose to graciously overlook it.

“If you will excuse me, my dear,” Aldan said as he bowed. “I have many much more unpleasant tasks to perform this evening,” he added with another smile.

With that Aldan Medwin turned back in the direction of my father and Alfred.

Chapter Three

Before I could take a step back toward the refreshments Julius once again blocked my path. “Don’t think you can walk all over me just because you’ve seen me naked.” He smiled wickedly, and I must say it suited him. “Now, how about that dance?”

Julius pulled me close, and we twirled in graceful circles ever closer to the ceiling. I did not recall the ceiling ever looking as it did that night. It appeared to be open straight into the night sky. Julius caught me staring and explained, “Aldan enchanted it for the evening. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

I smiled, unable to take my eyes from the many twinkling stars above us. Julius held me tighter as he flew closer so that I could get a better look at the magically enhanced ceiling. He never even lost time with the music. Talk about grace.

“You’re light on your feet,” I teased.

“Did you wear any underwear?” He winked.

“Yes, thankfully.” I laughed. “Otherwise, I’m sure people would be pointing and laughing by now.”

He laughed, and I was reminded painfully it was my fault I hadn’t heard that laugh in such a long time. The music became slow once more and he held me closer as he whispered something about not wanting me to fall. Truthfully, I had no fear of falling. I knew Julius would be loathed to let me go, even if we were on solid ground.

“How has my fallen angel been doing?” I asked softly, as I rested my face against his shoulder. The gentle swish of his wings was soothing and I sighed contently, gazing once more at the stars above. I tried to ignore how good he looked, but couldn’t help noticing all the same. Julius wore a long black robe, almost the same style as the wizards wore, but it opened in front more like a jacket, and in back to accommodate his wings. His chest was bare beneath the dark robe as was the fashion among the Icarum men.

“I’m all right,” he answered slowly. “How are you?” He paused and when I didn’t answer he said, “I saw that little scene out front. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” I sighed, burying my face against his shoulder once again, mostly to avoid eye contact. “That ‘scene’ was a long time overdue.”

“Are you seeing someone?” he asked.

“You see that man talking to my father, the one who probably doesn’t look happy about me dancing with you?” I smirked.

“You’re seeing Alfred?” He looked skeptical.

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

“About five months now.”

“But—”

“I’m happy, Julius.”

“Admit it, you just don’t want feathers in your bed.” His tone was light, but his eyes looked hurt.

“You know that’s not true. When we dated before, it was just too soon.”

“After Peter, I know,” he said softly.

Peter was my first love, and the son of one of my father’s deceased colleagues. We were dating when I was attacked, and I’d told him everything. He had been the first person to call me a monster. Part of me had never recovered.

“And now,” I whispered as I stroked the side of his lovely face, “it’s just too late.”

“I understand. You know, I’ll never get over you?” he teased.

“That’s all right; you’ve never gotten over yourself either.”

We laughed and reminisced about old times before I said, “I recognized the members of the council, but who was that younger wizard out front?”

Julius laughed. “The one in the horrible orange robes? That’s Aldan’s nephew.”

“But for only seven to be born every century, what are the odds of having two in the same family at the same time?”

“It’s rare to say the least, but apparently Eric is a bit of an embarrassment.” Julius laughed harder and it made dimples in his cheeks.

“Absolutely pathetic.” I shook my head.

“Yes, he is actually. He doesn’t seem to take life seriously. Who knows if he has any real talent or not?”

“I was referring to how good you still look,” I said, smiling.

“What did you expect, bald spots?” He fluttered his wings slightly and I laughed as we began to float back to the dance floor below.

Unfortunately, Alfred didn’t dance. I saw that he was still talking to my father, so I made my way again toward the entrance hall after saying a brief farewell to Julius. I walked over to the table of refreshments and poured myself a glass of punch. I found Aldan’s nephew still lurking around, but this time he was staring at the mural covering the ceiling. I walked over to him.

“Eric, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he said, but didn’t look at me.

“Make it strong,” I said, holding out my punch.

He smiled at me appreciatively, and flicked his wrist over my glass. “Enjoy.” He winked and went back to looking at the ceiling. After a moment, I figured I didn’t have anything else to do, so I looked with him.

“You know, you’re only the second wizard I’ve ever met?” I said conversationally.

“Really? You poor thing, only your second wizard and it had to be me.” He turned to me then and smiled. “Well, at least it’s not your first time.”

I laughed and nearly spilled my punch.

“Lilith Mercury, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” I extended my hand in greeting.

I noticed then that Eric Medwin wasn’t completely unattractive. He wasn’t exactly handsome, but he had charisma. His bright red hair clashed horribly with the orange of his robes, but he seemed to be enjoying the fact that he stood out.

“A pleasure to meet a fellow redhead,” he said with a wink. “You know you should be careful?”

“Of what?”

“He has a thing for redheads.”

I was confused. “Who?”

Eric looked back up to the painting and a chill ran through me. What was it about those eyes? Then I had a feeling, I almost knew the answer.

“How could you possibly—?”

“Know that? I have no idea,” he replied blandly, as if he hadn’t said anything strange at all. Whoever thought Eric Medwin did not have talent hadn’t paid close attention. But before I could question him further, Alfred walked up followed by Aldan.

“Ready to be gone are you?” He smiled at us both.

“Yes,” I answered, catching Alfred’s eye. “Actually, I’ve got a headache.”

“I could fix that,” Aldan offered. “Or, is it just an excuse?”

When I didn’t answer he laughed and put an arm around me, “Oh well, I won’t tell anyone. Let’s all be off then, shall we?”

I looked back at Alfred and found him following with a smile, apparently enjoying the show. I wasn’t exactly sure how to react to Aldan’s instant liking. Truthfully, I found myself enjoying his company as well. Eric was a bit strange, but so was I. I liked him too. On our way out the door Aldan commented, “I find there is nothing more irritating than having to attend events like this, except perhaps traveling by transporter.”

Aldan continued to talk all the way down the street and back into the building which housed the transporter we would use to get home. Alfred and I stepped into the circle of tiles first. I waved goodbye to Aldan and his nephew when he suddenly remarked, “Tell Mathias I said hello, won’t you?”

I didn’t have time to respond. The next thing I knew, I was being frozen again from the inside out. Suddenly, I was back in Alfred’s lab, where I promptly tripped and fell to the floor.

“Damn these things,” I cursed the transporter, and snatched off my heels.

“Are you all right?” Alfred reached out a hand to help me.

I handed him my shoes and scrambled awkwardly to my feet. “I’m fine.”

On our way back up the long staircase into the house, we talked about how the night had gone. If I hadn’t been so angry when I’d fallen, I would have remembered how damn cold those stone steps are. Instead I suffered in silence. If I mentioned my feet were freezing, it would give Alfred an excuse to tease me. It was only lunch time back on Earth, and the sunlight outside seemed odd in comparison to Terra’s deep purple night sky. I told him about my conversation with Aldan, and how strange but likable I had found him.

“I would worry about it. It’s good that he likes you. He’s always liked Jacob, and that’s worked out well for him,” Alfred said.

I decided to drop the subject, since it was his nephew who had truly concerned me. I didn’t tell Alfred about our conversation in the entrance hall, but it was definitely on my mind. Eric wasn’t really referring to the painting, was he?

Alfred stopped to check our messages, and I went upstairs to change. A bruise was already forming on my knee where I fell in the lab. I bruise easily and have a tendency to bump into things. Lucky for me I heal at almost werewolf speed. Otherwise, I’d look like someone had abused me most of the time.

I had just hung the dress back in my closet when Alfred walked in. His shirt was unbuttoned, and the tie was long gone. He looked wonderfully tousled, and I had a sudden desire to snatch off his belt.

“I saw you dancing with Blight,” he said softly.

“And?”

“And I didn’t like it.” He walked forward and placed his hand on the nape of my neck. Alfred looked dangerous, and it turned me on. I knew him well enough to recognize his jealousy, and to know I wasn’t in danger of anything but maybe listening to him bitch. His fingers tightened at the base of my neck and I moaned.

He held me close then, and I felt something in his pocket. Alfred smiled down at me and I knelt in front of him, not bothering to step back so that our bodies brushed together on my way down. I started at his ankles and ran my hands up his legs and over his inner thighs as I stood back up. It was all I could do to keep from ripping his clothes off. Fuck pretense. I had never been good at foreplay. But guys seemed a little put off when you actually could rip their clothes off.

“What are you doing?” he asked as a lazy smile spread across his face.

“Looking for any concealed weapons.” I said the word “weapons” just as I moved my hand over the front of his pants. “Is that aspirin in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?” I removed the bottle from his pocket and rattled it at him.

“Just in case,” he said.

I walked over to my writing desk and sat the bottle down.

“I don’t have a headache,” I said.

I reached out to him and took Alfred by the hand. I led him over to the chair in front of the desk, pushed him down, and opened his already unbuttoned shirt. As I leaned over him, I began to kiss the exposed skin of his chest on my way toward his belt buckle. I leaned back onto the balls of my feet and pulled him toward me with a hand on the back of each knee, causing him to slump down in the chair. I let my eyes tell him all the things that were on my mind.

“Don’t think I’m not still jealous,” he commented with a sort of half smile.

“You can be jealous all you want,” I purred, as I began to unbuckle his belt.

I unzipped his pants and ran my hands along the curve of his hips, exposing the part of him I was most interested in at the moment. Without warning, I took his cock in my mouth. Much to my satisfaction, Alfred seemed to forget any other complaints he might have had. I looked up a few moments later and knew that my voice would be filled with the desire I felt.

“Take me,” I whispered.

My command was instantly obeyed as Alfred snatched me from the floor and practically flung me onto the bed. I gasped with excitement as I fell onto the crimson sheets. Alfred ripped the black lace panties from my body and pressed his hard cock against me.

He hesitated and I said, “Do it.”

I cried out as he entered me, causing my breath to catch. I moaned and wrapped myself around him as I tore the shirt from his body. It got caught around one wrist and he snatched it off with a frustrated growl as he scooped his hands underneath my back, lifting me against him, almost in a sitting position. His hands grasped me from behind, lifting me more fully onto him, and I cried out as I climaxed. I clung to Alfred as a warm rush of power flowed from me and into him. A thrill ran through me as I felt his muscles tense and I knew he came too. We fell back onto the bed, both of us breathing hard.

“Should I be jealous more often?” he panted.

I laughed softly as I slid from the bed and walked to the shower. The bruise on my knee was already healed.

Chapter Four

When another of my injuries healed so quickly, it reminded me I had forgotten to ask Mathias about the last time. A part of my great, great grandfather’s consciousness still existed somewhere in the back of my mind, and I was able to contact him through meditation. He had passed a piece of his spirit to me along with his powers. After a quick shower, I decided it was time we had a chat while Alfred napped. Since he’d been up longer than I had, Alfred was out cold by the time I took Mathias’ journal from the shelf and padded barefoot downstairs.

I went into the kitchen and unplugged the phone. I also checked to be sure the doors were locked, so I would have no interruptions. I took the gold chenille throw from the back of the crimson sofa and spread it on the floor in front of the fireplace. Here I also placed a pillow and lay down facing the ceiling, palms up, legs slightly apart. This is known in yoga as corpse pose, and I lay there for several moments and just breathed.

Once more the stone staircase appeared before me, so much like the one that led to my dungeon, and Alfred’s lab. I ascended these steps gradually through a flow of color, one to represent each chakra of the body. At last, I reached the door to the place in my mind where I could escape and recover. The door was silver and ornately carved with intricate vines and leaves. It looked much like the door to my dungeon. Beside this door was an elaborate silver box. It was here that I must place all of my worries if I ever expected to enter.

I opened the lid and saw the universe, somehow contained within the small space. Immediately, an image of Marco appeared, like a snapshot in my hand. His deep chocolate brown eyes stared back at me as if the image were alive. I placed it in the box. Other things began to come to mind. Another snapshot went into the box, this one of the mural that adorned the ceiling back at headquarters. And then a closer shot of those piercing emerald eyes. After several minutes like this, a key appeared in the lock, and I stepped inside.

The room, as always, was equipped with whatever I had need of, and at the moment, I needed to talk to Mathias.

His voice was suddenly in my mind, “What troubles you?”

“Why are my injuries healing so fast?”

“Have you not recovered faster since your attack years ago?”

“Yes, but this is different.” I told him what happened a few months ago when several deep puncture wounds on my arm healed almost instantly after Alfred and I had sex.

“And during this encounter, did you use the voice of seduction?”

“Yes, I did.” My heart was already beating faster in reaction to what I was afraid he was going to say. Mathias proceeded to describe the feeling that had washed over me during orgasm, and flowed into Alfred.

Then, without warning he said, “The voice is a form of vampirism.”

“What?!”

“Have you ever heard of an incubus, or succubus?”

“Yes. They feed off the desires of their victims,” I said softly. My chest hurt and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “So, I fed off of Alfred? I used him to heal my injuries?” I was horrified.

“Not him, his desire. It is a rare ability to say the least. However, I assure you, you did not steal his strength nor in any way compromise him.”

“Didn’t in any way compromise him? How can you say that?! I fed off of his desire. Is there any way to not do this, I mean, can I control it?”

“Of course. You do not automatically do this. However, if you have sex while you are injured in any way, you will feed in order to heal yourself. That is simply the way it is. As I said, this is a form of vampirism. A true incubus or succubus, who needs to feed in order to survive, could potentially—”

“Potentially what?”

“Love someone to death.”

“I suppose it’s inevitable,” I mumbled.

“What is?”

“In one way or another, I’m destined to be a monster.”

Mathias’ deep throaty laugh drifted through my mind.

“You are not a monster, and neither was I.”

“How can you be so sure?” I pleaded.

“Because I have met real monsters before. It is not what a person is that makes them a monster, but what they do.”

What Mathias said made a lot of sense, and it helped to ease my mind.

“How long has it been since you have rested?” he asked.

“I’ve slept, just not well.”

“You must stop worrying. I am aware of all the things running through your mind, and there is not one that you can change.”

I knew better than to ask him to elaborate. I was certain he was referring to all of the things I had placed in the small silver box before entering. Finally he said, “Will you let me help you?”

Mathias’ help was not always straight forward. I hesitated before asking, “What did you have in mind?”

“Look to the table,” he said softly.

Beside the sofa which was always in this room of mine, there was a table with many layers of shelves. On the top shelf sat a blue shimmering bottle labeled “peace of mind.” I knew how to use the bottle, but before I did so I relayed a message, “Aldan Medwin says hello.”

To my surprise Mathias’ laughter echoed through my mind again as he replied, “I suppose this is his way of rubbing it in.”

“Rubbing what in?”

“I seduced his sister years ago and he told me, in a fit of rage, that his revenge would be to thrive when I was little more than a memory.”

“He serves on the council in your place.”

“And he well deserves it. Aldan was a good man. I would not have wanted someone like me near a female relative of mine either.”

I went on to tell Mathias about my conversation with Aldan, and how I had instantly liked him. I also told him of the effect that the briefest touch of my power had on Aldan.

He laughed again. “Then that explains it, he has forgiven me.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because he now knows what his sister was up against, and for him to speak to me again, even through a passed along message, says he now understands that. Trust me, I knew him for two hundred years before he finally stopped speaking to me.”

I decided to take his word about Aldan. There was another question I was dying to ask. “Have you ever known an incubus? A real one?”

“Yes.” He grew uncharacteristically quiet after this reply. I waited for more of an explanation, but none came.

“Mathias? Please, tell me about him.”

“I offered him an alternative to what he had become. I thought I could help him.”

“Did you help him?” I asked hesitantly.

“To become more dangerous, yes.”

Mathias was obviously upset over this past incident, so I didn’t push the issue further. I waited silently for him to change the subject.

A few minutes later, he said, “You need some rest.”

I agreed. I took the shimmering blue bottle and placed a drop of its milky contents onto my finger. Next, I applied this drop to my forehead between my eyebrows, and slightly up. I stretched out across the sofa and covered myself in a blanket that looked to be made of thousands of tiny leaves. It was the best sleep I’d had in months.

*****

Over the next few days, I did my best to not be bothered by what Mathias had told me. However, my very best efforts could not distract me. It was nearly a week later when a better distraction than I could have created on my own called me out of the blue. Alfred was in town, and I was just stepping out of the shower when the phone rang that morning.

“Hello.”

“Lilith Mercury?”

“Yes.”

“This is Alek Ambrose, I’m the wizard who—”

“I know who you are,” I interrupted, “but why are you calling me?”

Alek Ambrose was the wizard originally offered the council seat vacated by Mathias Alexander forty years ago. When he was only twenty years old, Ambrose had defeated a goblin army conjured by the dark wizard Tavarius Maeryn. However, he turned down the appointment, saying he had not defeated Maeryn in order to obtain the seat; he had simply done the right thing.

“I felt that I should,” he said, “and I learned a long time ago to take my feelings seriously.” He had a sexy hypnotic voice, smooth as silk, and welcoming as a warm fire on a cold night. “Perhaps, if you tell me a little about yourself, we might both be enlightened as to why I called.”

“How do I know you’re who you say you are?”

The question had barely left my lips when I felt his power break over me. A threat, a hint, a promise of what he was capable of.

I gasped. “What would you like to know?”

Over the course of the next forty minutes or so, I found myself opening up to a complete stranger about my private life. I was able to talk to Alek as if he were Kat. I felt like I had known him for years. But it wasn’t just me opening up. I was eager to know where Alek Ambrose had been for the past forty years. To my surprise, he told me. Alek was calling from England where he had lived for the past forty years in hiding. Well, not exactly hiding, but no one had really considered he would be writing and directing plays in London. At least that explained the accent. He didn’t possess the magical voice of seduction; Alek simply had a sexy voice. I could have listened to him for hours.

“So, you’ve been in theatre for forty years?” I asked.

“Precisely.” Alek had a way of enunciating his words where every syllable was clearly heard. His voice, though sexy, was also powerful. It was a commanding voice, and even though he was not harsh with me, I felt compelled to obey.

“You’ve never gone back to Terra in all these years? Even once?”

“Once,” he admitted. Then Alek seemed to slip into a pleasant dream as he retold what happened in the moments before he returned to Earth. “Are you familiar with the large pool near the Council Tower?”

“I am.”

“As I passed this, I saw a woman. She was lovely, a vision to be sure.” He sighed. “I watched while she stripped naked and went for a swim under the moonlight.”

My heart was hammering violently in my chest. Surely, I wasn’t the only one to ever skinny dip in the lake by the Council Tower?

“Why didn’t you speak to her, or do you just like to watch?”

I’m not sure what made me say it, but his response answered the question I had not asked. “Because she was there with one of the Icarum. As a matter of fact, he appeared to be sketching her portrait while she swam. So, after a moment’s fascination, I left.”

“It was me,” I confessed.

“And what did the Icarum gentleman do to deserve a naked picture of you?” he asked softly.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.”

“Blackmailed you did he?”

“What makes you jump to that?” I laughed nervously.

He paused, and just when I thought he wasn’t going to answer he said, “The way you just laughed at it.”

“What are you, a mind reader?”

“No. I’m a person reader.”

“And what did you read from watching my midnight swim? Or were you just hoping to get a good flash?” I couldn’t resist asking.

“You are certainly beautiful,” he began slowly. “However, as I watched you sit on a large rock under the stars, something interested me that had nothing to do with your breasts.”

“And what would that be? My ass?”

“No. You were sitting on that.” His sarcasm made me smile. “What I saw was a woman who was comfortable in her own skin, and that is very appealing to me.”

“Damn.” I sighed. “You’re good.”

“Well, I’ve had practice.”

“Did you practice this conversation?”

“No. I actually called having no idea what I was going to say.”

“What made you think I wouldn’t hang up on you?”

“I hoped that you would give me a chance to explain,” he said with a laugh. “Or, at least enjoy a good obscene phone call.”

“Well, it isn’t obscene yet. There’s been the vague mention of my ass, but other than that …”

“Would you like it to be?” he inquired softly.

I paused, not sure how to respond.

“I’m only teasing, darling. Have no fear that I shall cross the seas to molest you. It’s simply my personality.” I could hear the smile in his voice, and having a flirtatious personality myself, I could relate. If that’s how he wanted to play it, I wasn’t about to be outdone.

“So, is this where you were planning to offer to show me your magic wand?” I laughed. “Or don’t you guys need any sort of stick to perform magic?”

He laughed, and it was wicked. “Darling, I assure you my stick isn’t the only thing that’s magic.”

“Really?” I said, as if I wasn’t buying it.

“You give me a few hours, a blindfold, and some leather straps, and I’ll show you magic,” he purred into the phone.

I shivered. “Mmm, I’m all aquiver,” I said, still sarcastic.

“What’s that noise? I keep hearing something,” he said.

“I’m drying my hair with a towel.”

“You mean to tell me that you’ve been wet and naked through this entire conversation.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” He sounded deprived.

“You didn’t ask.”

I then informed him that as much as I had enjoyed our conversation, I was getting cold. “I should go,” I added.

“So, you’ve enjoyed talking to me, have you?” He paused. “Why have you enjoyed talking to me?”

Something about Alek told me that he would understand my next remark perfectly. There are people who might need an explanation after a reference to soul music. But I didn’t think he was one of them.

I asked him, “Have you ever heard the expression that if God had a human voice, he would sound like Aretha Franklin?”

“I have.”

“Well, if the devil had a voice, he would sound like you.”

He laughed, a wicked and evil rumble that did things to me a stranger’s voice shouldn’t have.

“I should be wet and naked again about six o’clock tomorrow,” I volunteered.

“Until then,” he replied, and the line went dead.

Chapter Five

Over the next two weeks I became almost closer to Alek than I was to Kat. Our flirting remained relatively innocent, and neither one of us tried to make it anything more. I told him about Alfred. Not because he’d asked, but because it was the right thing to do. I was enjoying our newfound friendship, but I wanted him to be clear, it was a friendship. Neither one of us had a clue yet as to why he had felt led to call me, and we hadn’t discussed it since that first day. One oddity I noticed about Alek was that he never said hello or goodbye. When I asked him about this he told me he never put any thought into why he didn’t say hello. But goodbye was the last thing he said to his father before he was killed in an accident. Alek was eight. I was contemplating the tragedy of this when someone rung my doorbell.

No one I knew ever rung my doorbell. I had a large silver door knocker in the shape of a lion’s head with a ring hanging from its mouth. It was one way of telling who or what might be on the other side of the door. Most people liked the door knocker. I looked out the window on my way downstairs, dusk had just fallen over the landscape, and I was alone. Alfred had gone to visit my father for a few hours. The only person who had rung my doorbell recently was Marco. Unconsciously my heart began to flutter at the thought of him standing on my front porch.

However, it was not Marco who awaited me. Upon opening the door I saw a tall dark skinned woman. Her tan went well with her almost ebony hair and heavy lidded eyes. She wore a long flowing skirt of many colored silks, and a soft lavender blouse. She looked like a gypsy.

“Lilith Mercury?” she asked with a strong Romanian accent.

“Yes.”

“My name is Annabel, may I speak with you?”

“Yes, come in.” I wasn’t sure what else to say.

I led Annabel into the kitchen where she refused any kind of drink, but took a seat at the table.

“Thank you, Ms. Mercury, for allowing me into your home.”

I put some water to boil on the stove, having had a sudden craving for hot chocolate. Could it have been thinking about Marco that gave me the urge for chocolate? Possibly.

“What can I do for you, Annabel?”

“You will please forgive me if this is rude, but I will get to the point,” she made it a question and seemed to pause for my approval. I nodded. “I am a vampire,” she blurted out, “and I quite understand if you wish to revoke your invitation without hearing what I have to say.”

On the contrary, I was intrigued, especially after what I had learned recently about myself. I was definitely in no position to judge. I put the pack of cocoa I’d been holding on the table and took a seat opposite Annabel. “Please, go on.”

She seemed relieved. “I am here on behalf of the Vampire Council.”

I hadn’t known a Vampire Council existed. “All right.”

“Surely you must know of the recent changes in regards to the rights of the wolves. It is our desire to obtain the same recognition.”

“I can sympathize with your situation, but how does that involve me?”

“It has come to the attention of the council that you are not entirely human.”

“You mean they’ve been spying on me, but go on.”

“We felt that you might be more understanding due to this fact, and you are also known as the best in your field.”

“What is it exactly you want me to do?”

She toyed absently with the fringe on her skirt and for a moment would not look at me. “The original has been missing for some time.”

“The original what? Vampire?”

“Yes. We believe if he were to speak on our behalf before The Wizard Council, like the alpha werewolf did for his people—”

“Then you could be granted the same privileges.”

“Yes.”

The vampire population had kept themselves remarkably quiet over the years, not living in the open nearly as much as werewolves. I knew of their existence, but I’d never sat at my kitchen table and had a polite conversation with one before. They handled their own business, took night jobs where available, and no one was the wiser. In short, they didn’t cause a problem. Nobody knew exactly where vampires had come from, or how vampirism was first started. It just sort of happened somewhere along the way. To my knowledge, it hadn’t been consciously spread like lycanthropy. I understood where Annabel was coming from, but this seemed way out of my area of expertise.

“You know, this isn’t exactly what I do?”

She mentioned an obscene amount of money, but price was not my concern.

“I realize that,” she began. “But you would have a better chance than any of us at finding him.”

“How do you figure?”

“He knows when we are near, he can sense us and has avoided us for years.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Where you find werewolves, you will find him. He prefers the taste of their blood.”

The kettle started to whistle and I jumped. I took the pack of cocoa with me to the counter and mixed my chocolate while I considered what she was saying.

“Suppose I was to consider this, how would I know when I’ve found him?”

For the first time Annabel smiled, and if it was possible with skin as dark as hers, she blushed.

“There is no mistaking him. You will know him,” she said confidently. Annabel rose to her feet and produced a piece of paper seemingly out of thin air. “I can be reached at this number. Our time is your time. As long as we have searched, we are in no hurry. However, your discretion is of course appreciated.”

“Of course.” I took the number and saw Annabel to the door where she thanked me again.

My discretion, did that mean I couldn’t tell Alfred? I had not told him what Mathias said about the voice being a form of vampirism for fear of what he might think of me. How could I tell him this without explaining my interest?

*****

A few hours later I was trying to make the decision I’d made sound like a good one.

“I thought it was the best thing to do in the interest of equality.”

Alfred just stared at me blankly so I went on, “The council had to know something like this might come up from the decision they made. So, it should come as no surprise.”

“What about everyday people? You think they enjoyed hearing that werewolves are real?” he spoke finally.

“Probably not, but after a shock like that, what are a few vampires?”

Alfred got very quiet. He was quiet for so long I was certain I did not want to hear his answer.

“You know I love you, Lilith,” he said quietly. “I’ll keep my mouth shut about this, but don’t ask me to help.”

“I wasn’t going to,” I said hotly. “I just don’t think it’s right to help out one group and then treat another like they’re less than human.”

“That’s because they’re not human, Lilith.” His voice was cold and I took offense.

“Do you think I’m human? If so, then why not them?”

He didn’t immediately respond, and that stung worse than an insult. “You don’t think of me as human, do you?”

“Of course I do, but you’re different.”

“Wrong answer, Alfred, wrong answer,” I said softly.

That night I went to bed alone for the first time in six months. I was still awake at midnight, reading a collection of the works of Edgar Allan Poe when I heard a soft tapping noise against my balcony window. I didn’t hesitate to open the French doors. Since Kat had thrown rocks at my window before, it was her I expected to see.

I opened the doors and something smacked me hard between the eyes.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Red,” a familiar deep voice said in hushed tones.

I looked up and found Marco Barak perched on a tree limb directly in front of my balcony. I put a hand to my aching forehead and clenched my eyes tight against the pain. I heard Marco leap from the limb onto the balcony, and before I could open my eyes, he was removing my hand from the injury. It had been almost three months since I’d seen Marco, and when I opened my eyes my anger began to fade.

Marco Barak looked better in jeans than anyone had a right to. The pair he was wearing that night only made it more difficult to be in the presence of one of the sexiest men I’d ever seen.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered as if he were comforting a small child.

I felt the soft cotton of his thin white t-shirt pressed against my face, and underneath it, the warm skin of the alpha werewolf I’d been dreaming about. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, and it actually felt better.

“I’ll live,” I said as I breathed deeply of his wonderful scent. Marco always smelled better near the full moon. I knew it was werewolf pheromones, but I didn’t care. I loved the way he smelled, and I breathed him in. “It’s late, Marco.”

He pulled back, giving me the opportunity to look up at his handsome face. He had let his hair grow a little longer, and it looked good on him. Strands of dark chestnut hair hung over his eyes as he smiled down at me. “I’ve missed you, Red.”

I had missed his voice. Marco had one of those wonderfully rough, deep voices. It was the sort of voice someone usually had from too many cigarettes and too much whiskey, but it was just his natural voice. I knew Marco would never have reacted the way Alfred did earlier, and with a pang of guilt, I looked away from the emotion in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

“Am I that transparent?”

“No. I’m just that observant.” He looked shrewdly toward the open balcony doors, then back to me. “You had a fight?”

“Let’s just say Alfred didn’t want anything other than human in his bed.”

“Did he say that to you?” Marco growled menacingly.

“No, he didn’t have to. Look, I really shouldn’t be telling you my problems.”

Marco stepped back from me and seated himself in one of the two small chairs near a round wrought iron table that sat on the balcony. “I asked,” he said, motioning for me to take the other seat. “Indulge me.”

I told Marco everything that had happened lately, and with him I didn’t leave anything out. I didn’t feel the need. Marco had never judged me.

“See, you needed to tell me this,” he said as he pointed a finger at me. “This guy likes werewolf blood. Considering the fact that I’m opening my new club next week, this is need to know information. After all, a lot of my pack is sure to be there.”

“I’ve heard it advertised, The Dread Moon, right?”

“That’s right,” he answered with a smile, “the first commercially advertised werewolf club. Of course, it’s open to the public. It’s the one place where people know they can go to mingle the animals.” He winked.

“Where did you get the name?”

“It has a sort of reggae/Jamaican flavor to it,” he said, talking with his hands. “Actually, that’s the reason for my late visit. The grand opening is next weekend. It will be televised and I was hoping you wouldn’t mind being seen in public with me.”

“That’s sweet,” I said, smiling, “but haven’t you heard? I’m to be the head of H.A.V.O.C. All other division leaders will answer to me. It’s already been in the news all over Terra. They’ve announced it on the radio here, and before I went to bed tonight I saw my face plastered on the ten o’clock news.”

“Yes, I saw it.” He laughed softly.

“It’s not funny! I just ran into town for some fertilizer for my roses.”

“Red, you were wearing a shirt that said ‘pour some sugar on me.’ What did you expect?”

“Well, that was only one day after the announcement. I honestly didn’t think I’d have to worry about paparazzi at the nursery.”

He laughed again, and the deep rumble of his voice floated across my skin. “Well, at the very least it will be some good publicity for H.A.V.O.C., and it will show me, leader of the pack, as an upright law abiding citizen.”

“And it will make it look like the only reason I’m heading up the division is because I’m sleeping with you.”

He grew very serious then. “But you’re not sleeping with me, Red.”

I hadn’t meant to bring up a painful subject. “No,” I said, “but it will certainly look that way.” I sighed. “Things aren’t over between Alfred and me, we just had a disagreement.”

“A disagreement? With a man who doesn’t even think of you as human? Red, if it’s not over now, it soon will be.”

I wanted to cry, but I didn’t want to do it in front of Marco. He slid out of his chair and knelt before me, resting his head in my lap. After several minutes of me silently stroking his hair Marco suggested, “Tell him it’s political. It is really.”

“It may be political, but politics didn’t bring you to my balcony tonight.”

He looked up at me then, and before he could say words I was afraid of hearing, I said, “I’ll go. I’ll think of something.”

Whatever he was going to say seemed to be forgotten. “Excellent. I’ll pick you up at nine Friday.” Marco stood up and walked toward the rail. “I suppose I should leave.”

“I suppose you should,” I agreed. But I didn’t feel like making him go. Instead I walked to the balcony doors and just looked at him, reclining against the railing. Marco moved toward me like a true animal of prey. When he was only inches away he reached up and took hold of the door frame.

Leaning in just short of contact he whispered, “Let me in, Red.”

“I’m sorry, Marco. Not tonight.”

He kissed my forehead again, and I enjoyed watching him walk back to the railing. A brief glance over his shoulder, and he was gone. With all that was already on my mind, there was no way I would be sleeping any time soon. So, I called Alek. He was the first person that came to mind, and I went with that instinct.

“It’s late,” his smooth sexy voice answered.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“Not at all. That wasn’t a complaint. Now what is it that has you calling me in the middle of the night?”

While I started telling Alek what happened, I made my way downstairs to take a sleeping pill or two. I figured I’d talk to him until they took effect. We’d talked so much over the past few weeks about so many things, he practically knew my life’s history, and I his. The only thing I hadn’t told Alek about was Mathias. I was never sure how safe it was to talk about wizards to other wizards. They always seemed to have a history, and I didn’t really want to know that my ancestor had ruined the life of one of his relatives as well.

“You obviously have some unresolved feelings toward him,” he said about Marco. “I say go. After all, it is a good political move, in my opinion. Perhaps, it will make up for the ‘sugar,’” he said, laughing.

“I should have left that part out.”

“While we’re on the subject of your love life there’s something I’ve been thinking about, if I may ask?”

“Go ahead.”

“You’ve shared with me the unfortunate circumstances of your attack, and you say that your scars remain?”

“That’s right.”

“And you are bothered by these scars. They remind you that you’re not who you used to be.”

“Thanks for the psychoanalysis.”

“Let me finish. I wondered how it is that at seventeen, so soon after your attack, you ended up swimming naked with one of the Icarum.”

I laughed. “Is that all? Well, it so happens that only a few months before Julius Blight, that’s the naked Icarum—”

“I gathered that much—”

“—was attacked by a couple of werewolves.”

“And? What happened to him?”

“They tried to tear his wings off.” I paused. “So you see, we had something in common. Neither one of us was exactly what we used to be, and we became close while I helped him to recover. Fortunately for Julius, all Icarum have a natural immunity to the virus. So, the only thing that changed for him was the scars.”

“This is before you came back after training?”

“Yes, I stayed on Terra for a year and a half. I was the one who found Julius.”

“You rescued him? What of the wolves?”

“I slaughtered them. Julius was my friend. I went berserk.” I paused again. “It frightened me. I’d never reacted to anything like that before. But, the way I handled the situation led my father to believe I was ready to hunt on my own. So, a few months later he assigned me to Earth and Alfred, and I’ve been here ever since.”

We talked a while longer, and the sleeping pills finally began to work.

“Get some rest, darling, you’re starting to ramble.”

Since he never said goodbye, that was the end of my conversation with Alek, after which I was finally able to get some sleep.

Chapter Six

I was relieved when Alfred informed me over breakfast the next day that he would be leaving Friday morning and wouldn’t return until Sunday. Being my partner wasn’t the only job Alfred had with The Hunters. He helped my dad with all sorts of what I called “spying efforts,” among other things. This meant I didn’t have to tell him about Marco, because he wouldn’t be around to know. Keeping this from him should have bothered me more. I wondered what my relief said about me, but tried not to dwell on it. After all, I was still angry with Alfred and that could have something to do with it.

We spoke very little over the next couple of days, and I forced myself to pretend I didn’t mind sleeping alone. It was Friday morning when he finally approached me in the kitchen.

“Are you planning to shut me out forever?” he asked softly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you spoke to anyone who wasn’t completely human,” I said stiffly. I was still angry about what he said a few nights ago. Though truthfully, it was what he didn’t say that hurt the most.

“Lilith, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant to say.”

“But it’s what you said, Alfred. You don’t think of me as human.”

“Are you dumping me?”

“No, but this isn’t something I can get over in a few days.” I looked him in the eye and let every bit of the pain I felt be seen. “You hurt me, Alfred. Don’t do it again.”

He walked over to where I sat and knelt down in front of me, turning my chair slightly so I faced him. “I’m really sorry,” he said, taking my hand in his. “If I could take it back, I would. It’s really not what I meant to say.” And through his touch I knew what he said was true.

“What did you mean to say?”

“I meant to say that I don’t think of you as human, but I don’t think of you as anything less.”

I started to say something, but he stopped me. “Lilith, I’ve seen what vampires can do. You’re not like that. I wasn’t trying to insult you. I appreciate that you want everyone to be equal, but the fact of the matter is they are not the same as us.” He paused. “Please, let me try again. You’ve known me long enough to know I’m set in my ways. You have to understand that back in the day we didn’t try to treat everyone as equals … we just …”

“Killed everyone, I know.”

What Alfred said made a lot of sense, but I was still hurt.

“It’s still gonna take me a while,” I said.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he said.

I leaned forward and kissed him softly. “I know.”

After Alfred left I felt like crying. Instead, I called Kat and told her what happened.

“And you called Alek instead of me?!” she yelled.

“Look, I knew you had to open the shop early, so I didn’t want to wake you,” I explained.

Kathryn Roberts ran a decorating shop in town, soon to expand next door into a coffee shop once she got some more help.

“Admit it, you just like the sound of his voice.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You want me to fake a British accent?” she joked.

“That won’t be necessary,” I assured her.

We talked for a few more minutes and Kat agreed to come over and help me find something to wear that night. When I opened the door she hugged me, her dark brunette curls falling across my face.

“I’m so proud of you,” she said.

“For what, screwing up my life so thoroughly? Must be entertaining.”

“For doing this anyway. Alfred had no right to say what he did. I’ve known him for years too, and I love Alfred, but that was wrong. He should know by now how you would take a comment like that.”

“You would think, but that’s not why I agreed to go with Marco tonight.”

“Then why are you going?”

I wondered for a minute if I should tell Kat the truth. I told her the political bullshit and then decided to tell the real reason. “Because I couldn’t stand the thought of him going with anyone else.”

To my surprise, Kat got sort of misty eyed. “I’m sorry. It’s just that you two obviously care for each other,” she sobbed.

“Kat, I’m sorry if I—”

“You didn’t.” She sniffed, regaining some control.

“I can’t just throw away what I have with Alfred. I’ve loved him most of my life.” I hesitated. “There’s something between us, but I’m not in love with Marco.”

Kat looked at me like she was about to explain something to a particularly dense child. “The way you look when you talk about him, if that’s not love I don’t know what is.”

Marco said the event was formal, at least for VIPs in attendance and that included me. After looking through my entire closet, we both decided I should wear the same black dress I had worn to The Hunter’s Ball. After all, the same people would not be seeing it. The dress did seem perfect for the press to see me in. It covered my breasts, but revealed enough skin to still be sexy. Kat left just before I started to get ready and said she would try to be there too, since it was a public event. She loved club Red, Marco’s other establishment, and was dying to see what he had done with The Dread Moon.

For the first time in years, I was ready early. I sat on the built-in bench in one of the bay windows downstairs and watched storm clouds gather over what was, only hours before, a clear night sky. The wind whipped the tree tops mercilessly, and I decided to step onto the porch. I locked the door and took my small evening bag with me. The cold wind tore through my thin dress and I cursed myself for not remembering to look for a matching jacket. It was only the second day of February, but the weather was unseasonably cold. Though I much preferred it to the sweltering summer we had just endured, I still wished I had brought a jacket.

I was just about to go back inside when I saw headlights at the end of the driveway. My heart fluttered uncomfortably in my chest, and my stomach seemed to be doing flips. “This is not a date,” I kept telling myself. “You shouldn’t be this excited.” But I was excited. A long black limousine pulled up in front of the house, and had barely come to a stop before Marco stepped outside. No amount of self-lecturing could have kept me from getting excited when I looked at him. He was wearing a tuxedo and looking better than rain to a desert. His dark hair hung in layers, the longest of which reached just below chin level and shined underneath the porch light like it had been polished. The top of his shirt was unbuttoned, and a bowtie hung loosely around his neck. Through the open shirt I could see the beginning of the dark hair on his chest that I knew ran in a fine line down his stomach. I had never seen Marco completely naked, but that didn’t stop me from remembering what I had seen and imagining what I hadn’t.

He walked with a smile to where I stood, shivering on the top step, and removed his coat. I could still feel the warmth of his body as he wrapped the jacket around my shoulders and pulled it closed underneath my chin.

“You look good, Red.” He smiled and rubbed my forehead. “I’m glad to see the rock didn’t leave a mark.”

“It bruised for about a day, but I covered it with my hair,” I said with a grin.

“So, what did you tell him?” he asked about Alfred.

“Nothing, he’s not here.”

Marco raised an eyebrow at the comment and I elaborated, “He’s working with my father for a few days.”

He placed his arm around me tightly and walked me to the car while he asked, “How is Jacob these days?”

“Fine.”

Marco smiled as if he knew a joke I didn’t and helped me into the car.

When he slid in beside me across the back seat, my heart thumped painfully. The Dread Moon was close to the beach, and a good three hours from club Red so they wouldn’t be in direct competition. However, the beach was a fifty minute drive from my house, over an hour if there was traffic, and there I sat next to my greatest weakness since chocolate.

“It’s all right, Red. I won’t let the press get their hooks in you. Once we get there, I’ll do the talking,” he said, obviously mistaking why I was quiet.

I reached over, placed my hand over his, and gently stroked the backs of his knuckles. Even that simple contact was enough to thrill me.

“Don’t feel guilty, Red,” he whispered. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“It’s not what I’ve done that bothers me,” I confessed. “It’s what I’d like to do.”

“Any time you’re ready,” he said as he squeezed my hand gently.

I couldn’t speak. I wanted Marco, but what about Alfred? What had I done? I loved Alfred. Was being with Marco worth breaking Alfred’s heart? Of course not. I couldn’t deliberately hurt Alfred. So, there I sat, beside a man who wasn’t mine, but I was there because I couldn’t stand the thought of him belonging to anyone else. It was killing me.

“Come here.” Marco wrapped his arm around me and I rested my head against his shoulder. “Things will work out somehow, Red. Don’t worry.”

But I was worried. I was afraid that by the time I made up my mind, Marco wouldn’t be waiting around for me. “Then I’ll just have to kill his next mate.” The instant the thought crossed my mind it frightened me. Had it really gone that far? Was this the place I had brought myself in resisting so hard? I had killed Marco’s last mate, the alpha female of his pack. At the time I was being attacked, I had no idea who she was. Her obvious jealousy had given me some indication, and Marco later confirmed the truth. I had killed his alpha female, making me next in line for the position. Of course, I had not yet accepted Marco’s offer. But the more I was near him, it weighed heavily on my mind.

“I’ll still be here when you make up your mind.”

I looked down and realized I was still holding Marco’s hand. He must have heard my thoughts through the contact, because I hadn’t thought to block it.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and tried to withdraw my hand.

“No,” he said, holding me tighter. “It does me good to know you care, Red.”

“I never said I cared.”

He smiled almost sadly as he looked down at me and asked, “Can you honestly say that you don’t?”

The answer was no, I couldn’t. But I didn’t say that. I didn’t say anything at all. I stretched upward and touched lips as warm and soft as I remembered. Marco pulled me onto his lap and held me tight, though the kiss remained gentle.

“What am I going to do?” I whispered against his lips.

“You don’t have to make a decision tonight, Red. Enjoy yourself, try to relax. Things will happen as they were meant to, with or without our consent.”

“You sound just like Mathias,” I said dejectedly.

“Funny, he’s the one who said it to me.”

Someone knocked on the dark window which separated us from the front seat. Marco lowered the partition and Luther waved at us in the mirror.

“We’re almost there, you two break it up,” he said, winking at me.

I smiled and slid from Marco’s lap, trying not to blush.

“Can you help me with this?” He held up his bowtie.

“Well,” I said as I slid back onto his lap in order to get the right angle, “I don’t know if I’m the best person to attempt this.” I buttoned up his shirt and gave it my best shot. To be honest, I had more difficulty buttoning up his shirt than I did with the bowtie. It just seemed a shame to be putting his clothes on.

As we drove up I slid back onto my side of the seat and looked at the waiting swarm of flashing cameras and people. Nausea hit me like a brick. “Holy shit.” My heart fluttered again in a much more unpleasant sort of way.

Marco squeezed my hand and I felt my pulse begin to come under control. His presence soothed me almost like a drug.

“Hold onto me,” he said.

He had shared with me before that my touch did the same for him. Something told me as much as we both hated having to deal with the press, we’d be clinging to each other. As we slowed down, a soft rain began to fall and Luther handed us an umbrella from the front seat.

Luther pulled up directly in front of the club. An area was roped off leading straight into the building. Along this rope were several heavily muscled bodyguards who I’m sure were pack members. Good, the press couldn’t get too close.

Marco put his hand on the door. “Ready?” he asked.

I nodded, and he opened the door. Marco got out and opened the umbrella before taking my hand again and helping me to stand. I was nearly blinded by the dozens of cameras flashing in my face, almost immediately. While Marco answered a few questions from some reporters to his right, I looked up and saw the sign hanging above the door. “The Dread Moon” was spelled out in large dark blue letters, and beside this hung a crescent moon. I liked it.

“Ms. Mercury, are you dating Marco Barak?” This rather sudden question being directed my way snapped me back to reality. However before I could answer, we were both bombarded with more questions.

“The head of the new H.A.V.O.C. organization dating a werewolf, isn’t that against the rules?”

“Mr. Barak, are you in love with a woman who was so recently your sworn enemy?”

“What it’s like having sex with a werewolf?”

“Is he an animal in bed?”

“What does this mean for the future of H.A.V.O.C.?”

Marco finally managed to interrupt. “What this means is Lilith Mercury and myself,” he began as he paused to smile at me, “are friends. Before I was turned years ago, we were colleagues.”

“So, you’ve known each other for years?” someone shouted from the crowd.

“That’s right.”

“Were you involved while she was a werewolf hunter and you were a werewolf?”

He laughed. “First of all, I’m still a werewolf, and we are not involved.” He continued before anyone else could interrupt. “To answer your earlier question, what this means for H.A.V.O.C. is that if we can get along with each other, no one else should have a problem.”

I had to say, Marco handled himself well, especially since I knew how nervous he was. Standing there, smiling for the cameras, he was the perfect spokesperson for the werewolves. Sexy, rugged, and completely tame. At least, that’s what they thought.

We turned for the door again and I pulled him close enough to whisper, “You owe me, big time.”

“Is that what they call it these days, getting along?” I knew that obnoxious voice. I turned and saw Lola standing behind the blue velvet rope. “I take it you liked that picture I took?”

“The picture you took?”

Then it dawned on me who had been watching me the last time I went into town. Lola worked at the video store, and was apparently moonlighting with the local piece of crap newspaper. She and I had known each other since high school, and my opinion of her had not improved over the years. I refused to let her embarrass me.

“Actually, that’s my favorite t-shirt,” I replied.

“Do you like it as much as wearing the werewolf’s coat?” she asked with a sneer.

“No,” I said provocatively. “This is much warmer.”

“Lilith!” This voice I recognized also and I was glad to hear it. Kat and Elijah were standing a short distance away behind another section of rope. I ignored whatever remark Lola had been about to make and walked toward them. From the corner of my eye I saw Marco pull one of the bodyguards close and whisper, “Don’t let her in,” as he looked toward Lola.

Chapter Seven

Before I got too close, I could hear Kat and Elijah arguing. Apparently she still wasn’t satisfied with his driving.

“I did not nearly kill her!” Elijah yelled, his deep blue eyes growing darker with anger.

Every time they got together, Kat and Elijah fought like siblings.

“You nearly ran her over, Elijah!”

“She was on the sidewalk!” he yelled.

“Do you two want to get into my club?” Marco winked at Kat and she laughed.

He looked at Elijah, and I realized they had never met even though they were at the same party last Halloween. I’m sure Elijah would never recognize the large black werewolf as the handsome man standing beside me.

“Marco, this is Elijah Jasper.”

“Of course.” He smiled and shook Elijah’s hand. But Marco already knew who he was. I’d dated Elijah briefly while Alfred worked on Terra for several months last summer, before Alfred and I started seeing each other. Some of Marco’s wolves had seen us in a club together one night and ran back to him with the story. He was a good actor, but I could tell Marco didn’t like Elijah.

As a matter of fact, Elijah didn’t seem too pleased with the arrangement either. He looked at me, and for a second I thought I saw anger in his eyes before he smiled. He looked good. He was wearing a black suit that made his eyes seem more blue, and his dark blond hair appear almost brown. Elijah was the same height as Kat, though with the heels she wore, Kat was slightly taller. Ever since he moved into town a few years ago, I’d thought Elijah Jasper was adorable, even if he was a bit too innocent for my taste. All the same, his blue eyes always made me smile.

“Shall we?” Marco reached in front of them and moved the velvet cord. Other people surged forward, but they were no match for the reflexes of a werewolf. He closed the area off again, and we entered the club together.

The Dread Moon was huge. Club Red was not small, but this was even bigger. An enormous dance floor stood before us, already filled with people. As we moved farther into the room, I could see stairs to my left. Here, the dance floor extended four stories up with people dancing and looking down over the rails at the party below. To my right was another staircase that Marco leaned in and told me led to the VIP rooms and his office.

The smooth Jamaican rhythm of the music was almost hypnotic.

“Fuckin’ A,” Kat said, wiggling her way between us. “You got any hot Jamaicans around here?”

I couldn’t help laughing, because a handsome man stepped over almost on cue. He had a creamy chocolate complexion and long dreadlocks. He was Marco’s height, though slightly more muscular. He wore dress pants and a vest, but no shirt.

“This is Jeremiah,” Marco said. “Jeremiah, this is Lilith Mercury.”

We shook hands and Marco informed me that Jeremiah would be helping him to run the place since he couldn’t always be there.

“Eet was my sister dat ya saved las summer,” he said. I loved his accent.

I remembered the tall dark woman in the parking lot of The Firestarter. I had rescued her from a gang who’d tried to rape her. Now that he mentioned it, I could see the resemblance. The truth of the matter was I’d been sent to kill her. But after taking in the scene, I was on her side. I refused to kill the woman for defending herself.

“I moved here after de incident so I could keep an eye on her.”

“Wauneta works here now,” Marco said, and pointed at the bar across the room. Sure enough, I recognized the bartender as the woman I’d saved. The men talked for a few more minutes while Marco introduced the Jamaican to Kat and Elijah. It was then that a streak of silvery gray hair caught my attention amongst the crowd.

“Will you excuse me for a minute?”

I slipped Marco’s jacket from my shoulders and followed the streak of gray hair onto the dance floor without waiting for an answer.

“What are you doing here?” I caught Aldan Medwin by the sleeve.

He was wearing a dignified looking suit with a long jacket that could almost be considered a frock coat, in place of the robes he’d worn at the ball. But with the long beard and hair, he looked more like a dressed up hippie.

“My dear.” He placed a hand over his heart in alarm but he was smiling. “You startled me,” he said.

“Don’t act like you weren’t watching me just now.”

“All right, I won’t. How did it go with Mathias? I take it you passed along my greeting?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And I assume he told you what he did?”

“Yes. Actually, there’s something I wanted to ask you about that.”

We made our way to the bar where I spoke to Wauneta who thanked me again for my help last summer. This made such a good impression on Aldan, he bought me a drink. We sat at the bar while I asked him to explain exactly what had happened with my ancestor and his sister.

“So, Eric isn’t …?” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the question.

“Mathias’ child? Heavens no.” He shuddered. “That’s my other sister’s son.”

“But the red hair?”

“It runs in my family,” he pointed out, smiling. “Were I not over five hundred years old, mine would no doubt still glow in the dark.” He chuckled and ordered a cola and rum.

“As you’ve probably already figured out, my sister that Mathias seduced was Aurora, already married by that time to Joshua Mercury. When I realized what had been going on, of course it took me two hundred years to figure out my niece was not aging normally.” He paused and took a sip of his drink. “Well, I’m sure you can understand why I was so upset?”

“Of course. So, what made you decide to speak to him? Have you really forgiven Mathias?”

He smiled as he replied, “For the first time I was able to understand, if only for a moment, what my sister was up against.” He sighed. “I could no longer hold a grudge.”

“So, this means that you’re my—”

“Great, great uncle, yes. I’m sure you’ll learn to live with the shame of it.” He winked.

Aldan and I talked for a long time while I watched Marco make his rounds throughout the club, talking to waiters, and speaking several times with Jeremiah. Kat and Elijah were arguing again, apparently they tried to dance and they both wanted to lead.

“I did not step on your foot!” Elijah insisted hotly.

“Did so, you’ve got a lead foot on the dance floor just like you do behind the wheel!” Kat screeched as they walked past us.

“Charming friends.” Aldan smiled and his pale gray eyes twinkled.

“They’re usually not like this,” I told him, unable to stop snickering at the exchange.

“I see you get along pretty well with the local pack leader,” he said conversationally, but I wasn’t fooled. I didn’t respond and he continued, “I can understand what you would see in him. You know Jacob always liked him, before he was turned.”

“How long have you known my father?” I asked suddenly. I found it strange that he should know about who my father liked and disliked. It wasn’t as if he spoke to everyone about Marco. For that matter, it wasn’t as if my father spoke to everyone, period.

“Why most of his life,” he replied with a smile.

“He knew you were his uncle?”

“Of course.” Aldan shrugged off the question as he finished off his cola and rum.

“Then why didn’t anyone ever tell me?!”

“You never asked?”

“Well, no. I honestly never considered I might be related to a wizard.”

“Jacob, as I’m sure you know, is a visionary.”

A visionary can see auras around people, and if they’re really good, they know what every different shape, color, or design might mean. This didn’t surprise me.

“I’d figured as much,” I answered.

“So, Jacob wondered how he’d come across this ability. He traced his family history, and found yours truly,” he explained, opening his arms wide with the statement.

“What about Mathias?”

“He has no idea about Mathias. You and I remain the only members of the family who know about that.” Something in Aldan’s voice said he wanted to keep it that way.

“How do you know I haven’t told him?”

“Because telling someone you’ve inherited the power of The Seducer is not something most people would do. I especially couldn’t see an attractive young woman telling her father this.”

He was right. I didn’t plan on sharing the information with anyone unless I had to. I wasn’t ashamed of Mathias, I just didn’t want everyone to know. It was personal.

Marco walked up then and flashed us both a wolfish grin.

“Glad you could make it,” he said to Aldan.

“You invited him?”

“Yes.” He smiled again, giving us both a glimpse of his teeth and his charm.

I didn’t know what to think of this news, but before I could respond Marco asked, “Would you like to dance?”

He led me onto the floor, and a slow song began to play. Wasn’t that awfully convenient? I looked up at him questioningly.

“We don’t just play reggae,” he said with a wink.

I was sure he’d told the DJ what to play before he asked me to dance, but I didn’t care. I let the slow mellow rhythm flow over me, and rested my head against his chest. While Marco held me close I closed my eyes, and it wasn’t too difficult to imagine for a few minutes that he was mine.

Too soon, the moment was over. I was staring up into his smiling chocolate-colored eyes when Luther tapped him on the shoulder. I had known Luther since I was eleven, though we’d lost contact for about nine years, almost ten. During that time, he was turned into a werewolf, and I became a Hunter. Life is strange.

“We may have a problem,” he said quietly, brushing his long white blond hair back from his face.

“Why, what’s going on?”

“Back in one of the VIP rooms, someone said …” He hesitated.

“Said what, Luther, is there a problem or not?” Marco asked.

Luther leaned in closer and glanced around to be sure no one was paying attention.

“Someone said there was a vampire back there.”

Marco and I exchanged a look. He took off toward the VIP rooms, and I followed him. Luther trailed behind saying, “It sounded like bullshit to me, but you never know. I mean, are vampires really, you know real?”

“You’re a werewolf, Luther. Are you really that surprised?” I asked as we quickened our pace.

“You mean they’re real?!”

“Shh,” Marco said over his shoulder. “You’ll attract attention.”

I understood what he meant, but it seemed stupid to tell Luther not to attract attention. He was six-foot-two with long blond hair, ice blue eyes, and an amazing collection of muscles. I think telling Luther to not draw attention to himself may have been a moot point.

We made our way to the top floor and walked down the dark hallway toward the very back room. There, Jeremiah seemed to be guarding the door. To my surprise, laughter could be heard inside.

“Is he in there?” Marco asked.

Jeremiah stopped him from entering and looked a little embarrassed. “It’s some of my crew in dere.”

“Are they high?”

Jeremiah nodded and Marco rolled his eyes. “I’ve been keepin’ it away from de guests,” he said lamely.

Marco made a move for the door again and Jeremiah still stood in the way. “De reason dat I mention it is, dey be so high mon, dey don know what dey lookin’ at.”

Marco seemed to soften, but only slightly. “Don’t worry about the weed, just get it out of here. As for your men, they knew better than to do drugs here on opening night.” There was a threat in these last words and I knew without being told it did not mean good things for Jeremiah and his crew.

Jeremiah nodded his head gravely and asked, “If it tis a vampire, ya wan me to kill it?”

I answered, “If it’s the vampire I’m thinking of, you wouldn’t be able to.”

I walked past them both and opened the door. I wasn’t ready for what I found.

The air was thick with smoke. There were six large werewolves sitting around a small table. The table was covered with various paraphernalia, including a bong. If I stood there long, I’d be high too. However, this was all taken in at a glance. What had really caught my attention was the other man in the room, and once I looked at him he was the only man in the room. There on the floor, lounging against a large black sofa was not only the man I had been hired to find, but the man whose visage graced the high ceilings back at headquarters, and the face that had haunted my dreams since I was sixteen years old.

Chapter Eight

“Red, don’t touch him.”

But Marco’s warning was too late.

“It’s you,” I whispered as I knelt beside my tall, dark stranger. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t recognized him from the painting before seeing him face to face. The resemblance was so obvious. However, in my dreams, his face had never been clear. I always believed that I would know him when I saw him, and I did. Maybe I had to see him in person in order to recognize him. If his face had been clear in my dreams, I would never have mistaken him. No one could forget those eyes.

“Who are you?” I asked as I wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his perfect mouth.

“You may call me whatever you wish,” he answered lazily, and his voice was like honey. “In truth, I have been known by many names. Call me whatever you like, it will not change who I am.”

My voice came out soft, almost a whisper as I said, “You look like a fallen angel to me.” I meant it, he did. A marvelous perfection of masculinity, carved by the hand of God, sent to torment me.

He smiled slightly, almost sadly. “Then we may have something in common, for you look like The Angel of Death to me. Long have I awaited your visit.”

“I haven’t come to kill you,” I said softly.

“I know. They sent you for me?”

“Yes.”

“What’s been going on here?” Marco asked the men.

“We been havin’ a party,” one said, laughing.

“What’s he doing here?” He pointed to the man beside me on the floor.

“Well, we take a hit or two, drink a little rum, and let ‘im ave a taste,” the werewolf answered with a shrug.

“You let yourselves be bitten?” Marco was definitely upset.

“Eets betta dan sex, mon.”

I heard Marco giving orders for Jeremiah to clear his men out of the room before he hurt them. “Lock them in separate rooms. Bring them to my office when the drugs have worn off,” he growled.

I looked back to the dark stranger, and stared intently into his emerald green eyes.

“Are you high?” I asked.

“At long last, yes, I am high,” he replied slowly.

He smiled again ever so slightly and it thrilled me to my toes. It wasn’t that his smile was so lovely. What excited me were the emotions I could sense behind that subtle curl of lips.

“Didn’t you say you had a number to contact that vampire woman?” Marco asked me.

I nodded, unable to speak just yet.

“Well, shouldn’t you call her?”

The dark man looked to me pleadingly and I replied, “I can’t let them take him like this.”

“Why the hell not?” Marco demanded.

“Look at him.” I gestured toward the vampire. “He’s the original vampire. He’s obviously important to them in some way. Would you want to see someone that you respected like this?”

The man laughed at the word “respected,” and Marco looked even angrier.

“He can’t stay here,” he growled.

“Then, I’ll take him with me.” I spoke the words without thinking. There simply was no other option in my mind. He belonged with me.

“You’ll what? You’re going to take him with you? You don’t know what he’s capable of! What will you do with him, he could be dangerous? As a matter of fact, I’m sure he’s dangerous, that’s probably another reason they wanted him found.”

“Then I’ll put him in my dungeon, but I’m not throwing him to the wolves like this. No offense,” I added quickly.

“You have a dungeon?” For a moment Marco smiled, then he seemed to remember we were supposed to be arguing.

“Let me send Luther with you,” he said softly, the anger fading away. “I don’t want you alone with him.”

“All right.”

Luther, who had been standing at the door the whole time, entered the room and asked, “What’s his name anyway?”

“Who knows?” I shrugged, turning back to the man on the floor. “On your feet, Dracula.”

He smiled vaguely and said, “For that, I may need some help.”

Without thinking I reached out my hand and he seemed surprised. “You trust me so easily?”

“I don’t trust you; I’m offering to help you.”

“All the same, exposing your wrist to me is not something many would do.” As he spoke he traced his fingers lightly over the exposed skin and I shivered.

“Don’t touch her,” Marco growled, taking a step forward.

“I meant no harm,” the vampire answered as he took my hand.

I pulled him to his feet and he swayed, leaning in enough that I could smell the rum on his breath mingled with blood, and the faint trace of expensive cologne. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Once I managed to steady him I asked Marco, “Is there another way out of the club?”

“I can have someone bring the car around back,” Marco said. “That is if you and Luther think you can hold him steady enough to walk out? It would not be good for business to have someone carried out on opening night.”

“He doesn’t need to be seen,” I said. “If I found him this easily—”

“Does it really matter?” Marco asked.

“It might. How do we know he’s not in danger from the Vampire Council instead of the other way around?”

“If you could help me with my cloak,” Dracula whispered softly against my hair as he leaned on me for support. “I believe it will conceal me well enough.”

Luther held him steady while I placed the long black cloak around his shoulders and pulled the hood over his dark hair. He looked like he’d stepped off the pages of an erotic novel. He wore one of those wonderful white shirts with ruffles around the wrists. These long ruffles reached the tops of his knuckles. The front of the shirt had laces between the ruffles, but they were not tied, leaving the shirt open to reveal a portion of his beautiful body. The hood cast a shadow over half of his face, leaving only his full pink lips visible. But I knew somewhere in the darkness were those piercing emerald eyes, and it made me shiver.

Luther snapped his fingers in front of my eyes and I blinked.

“You okay?” he asked.

I realized then he was waiting on me to take the vampire downstairs. Marco had gone and apparently the car was waiting on us. How long had I been standing there? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. I let Dracula put his arm around me. Without really considering what I was doing, I reached my hand inside his cloak and around his waist for support. His hand touched my bare shoulder and I wanted more. My mind was filled with visions that were not my own. His face hovered above me as his long dark hair cascaded over my eyes. His eyes burned like emerald fire. His shirt was open, I reached for him. I licked my way up his chest, over his throat. It wasn’t enough, it would never be enough. I craved more of him, all of him, and the scent of that wonderful cologne.

I cried out suddenly and clung to his waist to prevent falling on the floor. I hadn’t had an orgasm, but I was close.

Luther who had already turned his back on us was instantly beside me. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”

“No,” I said quickly at the look he gave Dracula. “I’m not in any pain.”

“I told ya mon eets betta dan sex,” yelled a voice from the next room.

“Even better than chocolate,” I mumbled.

Only Dracula heard me and I looked up to find him smiling. “I am sorry. There are certain things I cannot control when I am—”

“Smashed?”

“Yes. If you wish, I can avoid touching your skin.”

I thought of my sleeveless dress with its open back and replied, “If we did that, I’d have to wear the cloak.”

“But, what if it happens again?” he asked, and his voice tickled along the back of my neck.

Luther had turned around once more and was already in the hall as I placed my arm around the vampire’s waist again. “At least wait until we’re down the stairs, I don’t want to break my neck.”

He laughed and the sound flowed through my veins like fire. He was as tall as Luther and Marco so once I was tucked underneath his arm, the cloak covered part of me as well.

Marco was waiting at the end of the hall. “You are definitely not inconspicuous,” he said. “How did you get in here?”

“I clouded your mind. I was not seen because I wished it so,” Dracula replied.

“You clouded the minds of hundreds of people?” Marco sounded doubtful. “He’s either nuts, or he’s even more dangerous than I thought.” He paused. “Red, are you sure you want to take this man home with you?”

“I’ll be careful, Marco, I promise.”

He touched my face gently and I couldn’t help smiling. If I had to take someone home with me that night, it probably should have been him.

“All right,” he said softly. “The car is waiting out back. Jeremiah will drive you. Unfortunately, I’ve got to get back to the party. People expect to see me tonight.” He looked to Dracula then and though his voice was calm when he spoke, his threat was clear. “I don’t care who you are, or what your story is. I care about this woman and if you hurt her, I will find a way to kill you.”

“I could never harm the vision that has haunted me for so long.”

“All the same, keep your hands to yourself.”

He nodded, but underneath the hood I saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

Marco walked back down the stairs and I watched as he turned back to check on me. He was trying to keep an eye on things without other people realizing what was going on. As we reached the foot of the stairs, Kat bumped into Luther. She had obviously had too much to drink. I tried not to laugh as she boldly stroked the front of Luther’s shirt.

“And just where are you going?” she asked.

“Lilith and I were just leaving,” he said.

She still didn’t seem to have spotted me. “You’re leaving with Lilith? I thought you two were friends. Didn’t you grow up together or something?”

“Oh, yeah.” He smiled nervously. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like—” Luther paused as a dark flush began to creep over his face. “I’m just helping her with him,” he said and pointed to the vampire.

Kat’s jaw dropped. “Oh, my.” She looked at me and asked, “Where did you find this?”

She looked like she was going to say something else, and before I could stop her Kat leaned forward and touched Dracula’s bare chest where his shirt remained open. Almost instantly, she cried out and her knees buckled. Before Luther could catch her, Kat hit the floor.

“Oh, my God,” she moaned. “Oh, my God.”

People were starting to stare. I didn’t have time to explain.

“Kat, I’m sorry, I’ll explain later.”

Luther helped her to her feet and she practically lunged at Dracula. I stepped back quickly, barely managing to pull him out of her reach.

“Wait,” she said desperately. “Just let me touch him again.”

“I can’t,” I said, still trying to keep my voice down. “We’ve got to go; I promise I’ll explain later.”

Elijah walked up and Luther got him to take over holding Kathryn back so he could follow us outside.

“Take me with you!” she yelled after us. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I came that hard?! Lilith?!”

It hurt my feelings to leave Kat that way, but there was no time to explain. I felt like the sooner I got Dracula out of sight, the better. We finally reached the back entrance of The Dread Moon and Luther opened the door. The rain had gotten harder. Luther ran out first and opened the back door of the limo. I followed with my arm still wrapped tightly around the vampire. As we stepped out, he hugged me tighter underneath his cloak where the cold rain could not touch my skin. Suddenly we were blinded by dozens of flashing lights. Damn the press, they had been waiting for me.

Luther held the door while I slid across the seat. The vampire held his cloak over the open door for me to get in as if it were an umbrella. He slid in beside me like a dark cloud drifting on the wind, and I wondered for a moment how the man who could barely stand a few minutes ago could possibly be so graceful. The moment the door closed he nearly collapsed.

“It would seem you are very popular,” he said softly.

Luther got in the front seat and the car began to move. The vampire’s head tilted back at what looked like a painful angle. I reached over and pulled Dracula down so that his head rested on my lap. His long eyelashes fluttered softly as he blinked up at me.

“Why are you kind to me?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Shouldn’t I be?”

He looked sadly up at me as I brushed a stray hair back from his handsome face. His hair was not as long as it was in the painting back at headquarters. It was just past shoulder length, and had natural waves though it was almost straight.

“Never mind,” I whispered. “I don’t know why, but I will protect you until you can protect yourself again.”

“I want to die,” he said, while I continued to stroke his hair.

“Is there nothing you can find worth living for?” I asked.

He didn’t answer; he simply stared into my eyes with a sadness I could almost touch. Before I had time to think I said, “The world should not be deprived of such as you. Why are you on the ceiling back at headquarters?”

“Because I am the first,” he said faintly. “They made me.”

Then he passed out.

I considered his words as we drove, but couldn’t seem to wrap my mind around the concept. I also couldn’t take my eyes off of the man whose head rested on my lap. He was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen besides the picture of Mathias. His eyelashes fluttered and I wondered if he was dreaming. I wondered if my lashes fluttered the same way when I dreamed of him. It’s a good thing he wasn’t trying to talk to me then, because as I looked down at him, words failed me.

When we arrived at the house, Luther began to pull him roughly from the back seat and I stopped him.

“He’s not a sack of potatoes. Damn, be a little gentler.”

“I’ve always heard terrible things about vampires,” he replied with a shrug.

“So, you abuse the first one you’ve ever met, just because?”

“Sorry.”

He flung the still limp body of Dracula over his shoulder and carried him into the house. Luther deposited him on the sofa downstairs and went back out to have a word with Jeremiah.

Dracula’s eyes fluttered and I asked, “Is there anything else you would prefer to be called? I feel silly calling you Dracula.” I paused. “Are you Dracula?”

He smiled faintly and my heart started beating faster. “That is one of the names I have used over the years. You may call me Vlad if you wish. It is a name I have used many times.”

“You must have liked it. Was that your real name?”

“It might have been, but that was many lifetimes ago.”

I leaned over him and caressed his face as I tried to commit to memory every curve and line of the countenance I had waited so many years to see.

“Look at me,” I whispered.

“That would not be wise. I would prefer to have your permission for what would happen if I looked too long into your eyes.”

“That’s right, you can’t control yourself yet, can you? You said earlier I had haunted your visions. What did you mean?”

“I have dreamed of you.” He sighed and I felt warm hands caress my arms, but he hadn’t moved.

“I’ve dreamed of you too.” As I whispered this, his eyes opened.

Chapter Nine

The door closed loudly and I jumped. Luther came back in, soaked through from the rain.

“So, what are we going to do with him?”

Obviously, none of the things I had in mind were appropriate.

“I say we strip him naked and throw him in a cold shower, that’ll sober him up,” Luther suggested.

If seeing him fully dressed had me aching for more I knew I could never handle the sight of him naked. “At least leave his pants on. We do need to question him, but it seems wrong to take advantage of him.”

Luther laughed. “I wasn’t suggesting that we rape him, but now I know what’s on your mind. That reminds me, what the hell did he do to Kat back at the club?”

“I’m not sure, but it happened to me too.”

“You had an orgasm from touching him?”

“No,” I answered with a smirk, “but I was close.”

Vlad smiled ruefully and said, “Then perhaps I can look at you, you must have a similar ability, or you could not resist.”

I was terrified at the thought of having anything else in common with the vampire on my sofa. But we had both been dreaming about each other, there must be a reason.

“Well, where should we put him?” Luther asked.

Something told me that using Alfred’s bathroom for such purposes would not go over well once he returned. “Take him upstairs, to my bathroom.”

Luther carried him, more gently this time, and deposited him on my bed while he ran some water in the tub. Seeing the vampire’s dark hair spill onto my red silk sheets did things to me I could not describe. He was supposed to be there. I had been waiting for him. As I moved forward Luther called loudly, “Lilith! You’re not in there touching him are you?!”

“No.” But I was going to before he said something.

My dress wasn’t exactly the right choice of clothing for what we were about to do, so I walked through the bathroom to my closet to look for something else to wear.

“Where are you going?” Luther asked when I walked past him.

“To change. I don’t think an evening gown is appropriate for flinging strange men into a bathtub, do you?”

He laughed while I slipped into a pair of old jeans and a dark brown t-shirt. When I stepped out of the closet he asked, “So this guy really does it for you, huh?”

“I’m not sure what he does, but he does something. I can’t explain it, since I’m not really sure what happened.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Yes. It took me by surprise, but it was incredible. What really scared me was, I wanted more. I still do,” I said as I sat on the tub facing Luther. “I want to run in there right now, rip his clothes off and just touch him. Any part of him I can reach.”

“Shit. No wonder Kat hit the floor. I wonder if that’s something I could ever learn.”

I laughed and he said, “I’m serious, guy must get more ass than a toilet seat.”

A warm honeyed laughter floated to our ears and I noticed that even Luther shivered.

“I felt that,” he said, looking surprised.

“Maybe he goes both ways,” I teased. Luther looked shocked so when I got up I added, “Or maybe you do, and you just don’t know it.”

I walked back into the bedroom and found Dracula smiling up at me from where he sprawled against my crimson sheets.

“I had never heard that expression before,” he said, still laughing softly.

He seemed to drift off again and I was about to undress him when Luther came in and said, “Wait, I really don’t want to have to pick you up off the floor, so why don’t I do that?”

I watched as he removed the long cloak and tossed it across the bed. My heart hammered in my chest painfully as Luther slid the white shirt with its many ruffles from Dracula’s body. He looked even better without the shirt. He wasn’t overly muscular, but beautifully toned and undeniably masculine. Every part that should be curved was curved, and everywhere there needed to be a ridge, that’s what I found as my eyes roamed over him.

“I’ll be right back.” I walked to the closet in the hallway where I kept my painting supplies and slipped on a pair of rubber gloves. Before I could get back to the bedroom I heard a big splash and a deep voice screaming in a language I couldn’t understand. However, I didn’t need to speak the language to know Dracula was cursing Luther for all he was worth.

“That was cruel,” I said, trying not to laugh at the smirk on Luther’s face.

“So, what are we going to do with him?” he asked.

I looked at the vampire, wet and shivering in the frigid water and said, “I thought I’d put him in the dungeon.”

He looked at me then and for a moment I could tell he was shocked.

“I don’t intend to torture you,” I assured him with a smile.

“I knew this place was familiar. You live in Vincent Cole’s old house.”

“Yes. You knew him?”

“Yes,” he said between chattering teeth.

“Luther is this really necessary? I think he’s fairly alert now.” I looked over and saw that Dracula’s nipples were taut and I couldn’t stifle a gasp of pleasure at this knowledge.

“I still wonder if I could learn that,” Luther mumbled at my reaction.

“Don’t get your hopes up, I think he’s a wizard.”

Dracula smiled at me appreciatively, but he didn’t otherwise respond. It was evident he had no intention of revealing his life’s story to either of us.

“So what he does is magic?” Luther asked.

“A form of it, yes. Whatever else it is will take time to understand. How is it that I didn’t react as strongly as Kat?” I directed the last toward Dracula.

He ran a hand through his wet hair and I felt my lips part in anticipation of his next move.

“Too many questions, my angel,” he purred as he smiled at me.

“My angel?” Luther looked questioningly at me.

“I overheard the lycans call you Death on more than one occasion,” he explained. “I thought that Death had avoided me these long years, but she has been in my dreams. I realized this when I caught a glimpse one night last year of the woman they called Death.”

“How long have you dreamed of me?” I asked this at the same time Luther said, “Vampires can dream?”

“I can dream, most of my unfortunate children cannot.”

“How long have you dreamed of me?” I repeated.

“You are not ready to know the answer to that question.”

“Fine, what about Vincent Cole, the man who built this house? How did you know him?”

“We worked together in the middle ages. He and I hunted together across most of Europe and Asia.”

“Was he a wizard?” I asked.

“No, he was an elf.”

“An elf?” Luther and I both said.

“Yes. Why, did you not hear how he was killed?”

“In a bar fight on Terra,” I replied.

“Yes, by a dwarf. They are notorious enemies. I would have thought that gave it away.”

“Was he a friend of yours?”

“Yes,” he said sadly, “he was a friend of mine.”

There were too many things I wanted to know, many of which I had a feeling he knew something about. But, there was no point in asking every question in one night. Besides, he probably wouldn’t have told me. I had noticed by this time that although he was still very attractive, I didn’t want to jump in the tub with him. He must have been sobering up, and regaining control over his powers, whatever they were.

“How are you with silver?” I asked.

“It does nothing for my health, but it is not fatal to me.”

“Good.” I turned to Luther, “Will you get the air mattress from the closet in the spare bedroom?” He left and I turned back to Dracula. “I’m sorry to throw you in the dungeon, but it’s the only place where there won’t be sunlight. You are sensitive to sunlight, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” He seemed to hesitate before saying, “Thank you.”

“You can stay here as long as you need to,” I said.

“Why would you offer this to me?”

“So you can make up your mind. I’m not going to give you over to people you’ve spent such a long time avoiding without your consent. There must be a reason you’ve avoided them for so long?”

“There are many reasons,” he said. “Your lover, he will not object to this?”

“How did you know I had a lover?”

“I saw him when I touched you back at the club.” He smiled. “Apparently, I am not the only one with wizard ancestry.” He rose from the tub and I watched as the water cascaded over him. Every curve of the pale perfection of his body seemed to glisten in the soft light. My eyes had always been sensitive, and I was glad for the soft glow the frosted glass bulbs created over his skin.

“May I have a towel?” he asked.

I handed him a large black towel and walked back to the closet. I had purchased a black robe a few years back on a whim. It was much too large for me, but I loved it. I had thought that perhaps my boyfriend at the time, the now notorious Bradley, would look good in it. But the more I looked at him, I changed my mind. At that moment, I couldn’t think of anyone it would look better on than Dracula. I discarded the rubber gloves. Now that he had regained some control, they shouldn’t be necessary. I pulled the robe from where it hung in the back of my closet and admired it for a moment. It was made mostly of silk though the fabric was thick, with dark intricate embroidery. The inside of the robe was satiny smooth, and the deepest shade of blood red I’d ever seen. It was made to be worn open, so there was no belt.

If he was going to wear the robe open, he couldn’t do so without pants. I had always preferred to wear men’s pajamas. I liked the fact that they were big on me. I usually just rolled them down a few times around the waist so I wouldn’t trip and tightened the drawstrings. I pulled out a pair of black silk pajama pants and walked back into the bathroom.

He was standing on the rug, so he wouldn’t wet the wood floor. I watched for a moment while he dried his long dark hair with the towel. It would appear that the waves in his hair were closer to curls when wet. The dark pants he wore clung to his every curve and I was grateful to be standing behind him.

“You should get out of those wet pants,” I said as I held out the robe to him.

His smile was all I had imagined it would be over the years that I had tried desperately to picture his face.

“Thank you.” He took the robe and began to unzip his pants. “Are you going to watch?”

“The thought had occurred to me.” But I turned my back even as I said it.

“How did you know my size, or was it a guess?”

I heard the wet fabric sliding down his body and clenched my eyes tight against the images that tormented me.

“Apparently, I started shopping for you a few years ago.”

“Really?” I heard him sliding the silk pants up his long legs.

“I can’t think of any other way to explain it. I bought that robe even though no one was around to wear it. Now that I look at you, I can’t imagine seeing anyone else in it.”

I heard a rustling of fabric, and felt his hands on my shoulders. He pressed his face to mine as he whispered, “You did not answer my question about your lover. How will he react to having me stay with you?”

“He won’t be happy about it. Other than that, I’m almost afraid to hear what Alfred will say.”

“I thought his name was Marco? At least that is what they called him tonight.”

My pulse quickened and I wondered exactly what it was Dracula saw when he touched me earlier.

Finally I said, “Marco is not my lover.”

“And yet you were at the club with him, and he admits to having feelings for you.” He paused. “What does your Alfred say to this?”

“He doesn’t know.” As I said this I felt a pang of guilt.

“Really? Is he not here then?”

“No. He’s back on Terra until Sunday.”

“You weave a tangled web, my angel,” he said.

“Don’t remind me,” I snapped.

“I was not judging, merely observing. Perhaps there is a solution you have not yet considered.”

“I’m not going to discuss this with you.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s complicated and I barely know you.”

As I said this I turned to face him and instantly realized my mistake. He somehow never broke his contact with my shoulders and I now stood almost completely in his embrace. Strands of wet hair clung to his neck while one dark curl spilled onto his forehead and over his face. When I saw how good he looked in the robe, I knew I must have bought it for him. I couldn’t imagine anyone looking better. His emerald eyes no longer held magic when I gazed into them, but there was a fire within that never completely died.

“You and I are not entirely strangers,” he said softly. “I have known you in my dreams for some time. I cannot explain why this has happened to us both, but it has.”

“I don’t think you’re here to solve my problems,” I said, and my voice was barely above a whisper.

“Perhaps not, but it has been a long time since I have met an empath.”

“That was my fault, I should have been blocking. I’ve accidentally read other people’s minds before, but I’ve never had anyone read mine.”

I had the ability to feel other people’s emotions through my touch, and from these feelings, I could see images.

“That is because I too was not blocking, and I have some empathic ability as well.”

“The vision I saw was not a memory from your perspective.” I still recalled vividly the images of him which had flooded my mind.

“No,” he replied with a knowing smile. “What you experienced was a vision of what you would like to do to me.”

I could feel myself blushing.

“Do not be embarrassed. Your vision was the closet I have come to making love in centuries.”

By what he said, I knew he wasn’t referring to the sex act itself. I also understood what he had said to me in the car. Dracula wanted to die because no one loved him.

“It must be difficult, watching everyone you love die.”

What I said must have hit a nerve because I could feel him withdraw even though his hands remained on my shoulders.

“There is always something worth living for,” I whispered.

His smile was both sad and condescending as he replied, “Hope is part of the naivety of youth.”

“And age should bring wisdom,” I retorted. “How dare you presume to judge me? You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

“Then tell me, and I will know.”

I opened his robe further and pressed my hands against his chest. His skin was cool to the touch and I tried not to think about how good it would feel to warm him. “A picture is worth a thousand words,” I said as I plunged forward into the stream of my memories. I started with Peter. I had loved Peter more than life itself. Losing his love nearly killed me. Through me Dracula felt what it was like to have the first man I ever loved call me a monster. He felt my fears, my pain, my disappointment when I found out Bradley was married and the last three and a half years of my life had been a lie. Losing Bradley did kill me. Though I walked away from the experience, I was never the same. He felt my uncertainty toward Alfred, but he also knew that I had loved him for years. Marco appeared in my mind and my heart ached with longing. I let him feel all of the reasons I wanted to be with Marco, and all of the reasons I couldn’t let that happen.

To my surprise, I could go no further. I just couldn’t take any more. I reached around him inside the robe and felt his arms close tightly around me as I began to cry.

“I am sorry,” Dracula whispered as he stroked my hair. “You are not naive.”

“What am I then, crazy?” I sniffed.

“You are wiser than I was at your age.”

“Why, what did you do at my age?”

“I volunteered for the experiment that turned me into the monster you see today.”

Chapter Ten

Before I could ask him to elaborate on this confession, Luther came back in. He gave me a rather wicked smirk and I realized I was still tightly wrapped in Dracula’s embrace.

“Did I interrupt something, or can I watch?” He winked.

I pulled back from the vampire, reluctant to withdraw from his touch. There was a solace in his arms I had not expected to find. Who would have thought that being embraced by Dracula was more relaxing than any amount of meditation? Having him hold me was almost like that wonderfully relaxed feeling you get right after sex. Part of me was upset at Luther’s interruption. But another part reminded me that this could be why the vampire was so dangerous. After all, I’m sure the apple looked very appetizing to Eve.

Luther carried the air mattress down the long narrow passageway to the dungeon, and stopped at the door.

“It hurts just to look at that thing,” he said as he shined a flashlight on the solid silver door. “I’ll wait back in the kitchen if it’s all right with you?”

We could all see without the light, but I think it made him feel better to not be alone in the dark with a vampire. I opened the door with my silver key. Dracula carried the mattress for me along with the small air pump and a sleeping bag. I’d also brought a lighter and as we entered the dungeon, I lit some candles on a nearby table.

“I’m sure you can see without these, but I’d feel bad about leaving you down here in the dark,” I said, gesturing toward the candles.

The large oak door at the back of the room was thick and heavy, covered in silver rivets and reinforced silver brackets. I opened this door with the same key, and as I pushed it open he said, “You can stay if you like. Or, was I wrong to think you found some comfort in my embrace?”

“I was hired to find you, not sleep with you,” I answered.

“We do not have to sleep,” he said, sounding like bottled sin.

“You don’t know what you are asking for,” I said as I inflated the mattress and tried to ignore him.

“And you do not realize what you are refusing,” he pointed out.

“The things I would do to you tonight would not be kind, and I have no desire to use you.”

It was true. I was in a touchy mood and didn’t want to take it out on him any more than I had already. If I ever did touch Dracula sexually, it would be with tenderness, not frustration. As soon as this thought crossed my mind, I shook my head. What had come over me?

“No one has had such consideration for my feelings in a long time. In fact, most people just assume I do not have any. I would be gentle,” he purred.

“I would not.” As I said this I moved purposefully toward where he stood beside the Garrotte. I walked over to the small highly polished wooden platform. Along the back of this, was an upright plank with a narrow seat attached. Above the seat, slightly more than shoulder height on most people was a leather strap. This strap was attached to a crank on the back of the board. I pushed him onto the seat and tightened the strap around his throat before he had time to object.

He did not seem alarmed in the slightest as I tied his hands behind his back around the board and took a seat on his lap. I opened the long robe and ran my hands over the smooth expanse of his chest. Fine hairs reflected in the candlelight which I traced with a finger to the top of his black silk pajamas.

“I’ve been told you have a thing for redheads, is that true?” I asked.

“Yes. I do love red hair. But that may be due in part to the length of time it has been in my dreams. Death has flickered through my mind for many years now, with flaming hair and amber eyes.”

The urge to touch his hair was too much to resist. It was soft and damp, almost like wet silk between my fingers.

“My dreams didn’t do you justice,” I sighed. “I have dreamed of you since I was sixteen, so I guess you could say I’ve known you for almost ten years now.” I brushed my face against his as I said, “I always knew I would find you somehow, but part of me didn’t believe you were really real. You have no idea how it feels to realize that the man of my dreams is real. My tall, dark stranger is finally at my fingertips and I cannot possibly allow myself to do the things I have wanted to do in my dreams, because I’ll be honest, they weren’t wet enough for me.”

“It must feel something like meeting the woman of your dreams and having her tie you up instead of kissing you goodnight,” he said softly.

“I can’t kiss you,” I whispered against his chest as I rubbed my face over the soft hair. “Because, I wouldn’t be able to stop.” I rose from his lap with a sigh, released his wrists, and loosened the strap across his throat.

“Goodnight.” He smiled sadly, still sitting on the wooden platform.

“Goodnight.”

Leaving him was difficult, but I managed. When I walked back in the kitchen to replace the key to its usual hook Luther was waiting for me. Like the true friend he is, Luther didn’t ask nosy questions about what had gone on in the bathroom while he was out of the room. He was loyal to Marco, but I had known him longer. That must have put him in an awkward position. We discussed the bizarre events of the night over some hot chocolate before realizing it was two o’clock.

“No wonder I’m tired,” he said as he yawned. “Where should I sleep tonight?”

“You can sleep with me,” I said without thinking.

His eyes widened slightly.

“Don’t look at me like that. I know pack members are comforted by being close to one another, and I’ll be honest, I could use some comfort right now. Besides, I trust you. I can actually sleep with you.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said with a sarcastic smile, “but you’re not pack.”

“I would have thought the same thing, but it worked with Marco.” As I said this I knew I was admitting to having slept with Marco. Of course, we actually slept, even though I’m sure most of the pack thought otherwise. However, Luther was never one to judge, which was one of the reasons we’d remained friends.

“Then lead the way, cause I’m exhausted,” he said, yawning again.

Luther followed me upstairs and stripped out of his dress clothes to his boxer shorts and t-shirt while I put on some pjs. It might have been weird if I’d thought about it, but I didn’t. It just seemed natural that I should be able to turn to one of Marco’s wolves for comfort, especially Luther. I snuggled down underneath the covers facing the door and Luther crawled in behind me. Without hesitation he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me back against the curve of his body. Luther’s long legs fit into the curve of mine and I sighed, enjoying his warmth.

“What shampoo do you use?” he asked as he breathed against my hair.

“What does it matter?”

“I like it.”

“Go to sleep prima donna. We can discuss beauty products in the morning.”

“It is morning,” he teased.

“Go to sleep,” I said as I yawned.

With that final request, Luther squeezed me tightly and I fell asleep.

*****

When I opened my eyes early the next morning, I was alone. I rolled to my back as I called, “Luther? Are you still here?”

“I’m here,” he said, walking out of the bathroom. “You wouldn’t happen to have an extra toothbrush, would you?”

“There’s one underneath the vanity I haven’t opened.”

I stretched and yawned while Luther brushed his teeth. A few minutes later I heard him getting in the shower. Since there is a wall of rock separating my shower from the rest of the bathroom, I walked in and brushed my teeth without having to see my friend naked.

“So, what will you do with him?” he asked about Dracula.

“I honestly have no idea.”

“Really? You bring a guy like that home with no plan whatsoever?” He laughed. “What prompted that decision? I mean, besides being hired to find him and he’s obviously attractive.”

“I’ve been dreaming about him since I was sixteen years old.”

It sounded like he dropped a shampoo bottle. “Run that by me again.”

“You heard me. Shortly after I was attacked I started dreaming about Dracula. Only, I couldn’t remember his face once I was awake. When I saw him last night, I recognized him.”

Luther was quiet for a minute. “I’m not sure how to react. That’s really fucked up.”

“I know. It gets worse. There’s this huge mural on the ceiling at The Hunter’s headquarters, and he’s on it.”

“What do you mean he’s on it?”

“I mean the mural contains images of him, Dracula, or whatever his real name is. I was always told those paintings were of the first Hunter sent to Earth. Apparently, that’s him.”

“Jesus. How old does that make him?”

“More than two-thousand years old. I’m too confused about everything to calculate it exactly.”

“They sent a vampire?”

I shrugged, then realized he couldn’t see me through the shower wall. “I don’t know how he became a vampire. I’ve known they existed since I was little, but never actually met one before last night.”

“You knew these things were real when we were kids and you never said anything?” He sounded genuinely disappointed.

I laughed. “Do you know how stupid I would have sounded?”

“I would have believed you,” he said, sounding sincere. “Wait a minute. Did people on Terra make vampires too?”

“I have no idea. These are all things I would eventually like to discuss with him. You know as much about that now as I do.”

“I still can’t believe I didn’t know about vampires. Marco knew too and he didn’t tell me either.”

“Get over it,” I teased. “They’ve always kept their numbers low and stayed out of sight. They’re very low-profile as a species. At least, they have been in the past.”

“You know you still haven’t answered my very first question. What are you going to do with him now that he’s here?”

“I’ve offered to let him stay with me.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m not going to turn him over to the Vampire Council without knowing more about what is going on. When I look into his eyes I feel so bad for him. It’s like his heart is broken.”

“Well, I think Marco will be more understanding than Alfred,” he said.

“Really? I expect they’ll both want to kill me.”

My stomach growled loudly and I was grateful for something else to think about besides Dracula.

“I’m going to go start breakfast.”

“I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

I had just put on a pot of coffee when someone knocked at the door.

“Good morning, Kat,” I said with a yawn as I stepped aside for her to come in.

Kat looked like hell. She obviously hadn’t slept. Sure, it was Saturday morning, but she never wore sweats in public.

“Where is he?” she said immediately.

“Where is who?”

“The man you left with last night, where is he?” she insisted.

She looked almost desperate as I led her to the kitchen. I sat Kathryn down at the table and poured her a cup of coffee while I shared what I knew about Dracula.

“It looks like you were right about how soon I would meet him,” I said.

“Huh?”

“Don’t you get it, Kat? He’s the man from my dreams.”

“Mine too. So, where is he?”

“Have you heard a word I just said?”

“Of course. It looks like the first Hunter sent here was the first vampire too, but you don’t know how yet because he wouldn’t tell you. You’ve been dreaming about him since you were sixteen, and apparently he’s been dreaming about you too, but you don’t know for how long. AND, knowing your ability to find the wrong sort of man, he’s probably heinously evil. So, where is he?”

“He’s in the dungeon.”

“Can we touch him?”

“No, Kat, we can’t touch him.” I laughed.

“Fine,” she said angrily as she walked to the fridge. “I want an omelet then.”

She started putting ingredients on the counter about the time Luther walked in wearing my red bathrobe and a smile. Of course the robe only came to just below his knees and didn’t close enough in front to cover his chest. Her jaw dropped.

“Good morning, Kat.” He smiled and started pouring himself some juice.

“Just friends huh?” she bellowed, and Luther nearly dropped his glass. “You were helping her with him?” She pointed in the general direction of the door that led to the dungeon. “I’ll bet.”

“Calm down, Kat, it’s not what it looks like,” I said.

“Well it looks like you had a nice ménage a trios going on here last night! You know what I had?! I had to ride home with Elijah, king of the lead foot! He nearly ran us into a tree! I’m risking my life just to get home, and you’re over here getting it on with a hot werewolf and a vampire.”

By the end of this speech, she plopped down at the table again, put her head down, and started to cry.

“You think I’m hot?” Luther asked. I smacked his bare chest lightly with the back of my hand. “What?”

“Kat, first of all, we did not have a ménage a trios last night. Second, why did you and Elijah go together in the first place when you both argue so much about his driving? You know how you two get.”

“Because he knew you’d be there with someone else,” she sobbed, “and if anyone was there who knew Charles, I didn’t want them to see me alone.”

I knelt beside Kat’s chair as I asked, “Have you tried talking to Charles?”

“I don’t wanna fucking talk to him.” She flung her arms around me and wailed, “He’s just another lying son of a bitch.”

“Do you love him?”

“No, I don’t love him,” she cried, “I’m just—”

“In love with him,” Luther finished.

“Ah, I’m so disappointed,” she groaned as she pulled back from me. “I really liked him, Lilith.”

“I know.”

I got up and Luther cracked eggs while I looked for some cheese.

“I thought I’d finally managed to find a nice guy,” she said and stifled another sob. “And Marco said he probably faked orgasm.”

Luther dropped an egg on the floor, but Kat didn’t seem to notice.

“If it makes you feel any better, I know the guy got his ass kicked,” Luther added hopefully.

“Really?” she asked, “By whom?”

“Marco, who else?”

“Did he hurt him bad?”

“He nearly killed him,” Luther replied.

This was all news to me, so I asked, “Why would Marco do that?”

“He figured you would ask that if you ever heard what happened. What he told me was, ‘I care about her and Kat is like her family.’ Does that make sense to either of you?”

We both nodded gravely.

“Good, because I don’t want to get into trying to explain Marco’s feelings, like some fucked up therapist.”

After breakfast Kat left and Luther had walked back into the sitting room when the door in the hallway banged open. I jumped as Alfred came storming through and flung something angrily onto the table.

“Alfred, what’s going on?” I had never seen him so upset.

“You made the papers,” he hissed.

I picked up the paper with trembling hands and looked at the cover. One half of the page was me entering The Dread Moon with Marco. They’d managed to get a picture when I’d whispered in his ear. It looked very intimate, and we looked happy together. The headline read, “Leader of the new organization H.A.V.O.C. openly admits to having a relationship with local pack leader, Marco Barak, owner of the new club The Dread Moon. This picture was taken of the happy couple upon arrival at the grand opening of the werewolf club with a Jamaican flare.”

I flipped numbly through the pages, not able to really read anything else. However, on page five there was another picture of me leaving the club, half concealed underneath Dracula’s cloak with Luther just visible on the other side of us. The caption beside this picture read, “Added security for the alpha’s main squeeze, or is she leaving the club secretly with two men?”

Chapter Eleven

“Is this why you were so eager for me to leave town?!” he yelled.

I couldn’t deny there was some truth to his words. “Alfred, I—”

Luther came running in, still wearing my bathrobe, “What’s going on, are you all right?”

The look Alfred gave Luther made me shiver. Never in my life had I seen such rage.

“What the hell is going on here?” he shot at me and I jumped.

“It’s not what it seems,” I said in what I hoped was a reassuring tone.

“You’ve got about five minutes before you both see what I am capable of.” His threat was unmistakable. It wasn’t the fact that Alfred had made a threat that upset me. I was upset because he had threatened me.

“Don’t you trust me any more than that? I found the vampire last night at the club. Luther helped me bring him here because I had nowhere else to put him until I could figure out what’s going on.”

Alfred was frighteningly silent and my voice shook as I continued, “Luther and I grew up together, Alfred. We’re not having sex, he’s like family.”

He turned his gaze to me once again and the hatred I saw there hurt. “You have that monster in my house?”

“Now wait a goddamn minute,” Luther began.

“I’m not talking about you,” Alfred hissed, “one monster at a time. I’m talking about the vampire. Where is he?”

I didn’t answer and he said menacingly, “Are you protecting him?”

“Alfred, you don’t know anything about him.”

“And neither do you! You don’t know what he’s capable of!”

“You can’t kill people on principle!” I yelled. No matter how hard I tried to fight it I felt tears burning my eyes.

“I’m going back,” he said. “Jacob doesn’t know I’m here.” He glanced at Luther and then back to me. “You take care of this shit, and I’ll be back tonight.”

He stormed out of the room before I could say anything and I jumped when the door slammed. It took me several minutes to realize Luther was holding me. I was shaking so hard I would have hit the floor otherwise.

“I never thought Alfred would speak to me like that,” I said shakily.

“The people we love always seem to hurt us the most,” Luther said as he sank to the floor along with me. I couldn’t seem to stop shaking. “Take me for instance, my ex-wife attacked me. I didn’t even know she was a werewolf. I mean, I knew she was a bitch, but I had no idea she was the real thing.”

I laughed in spite of myself. “I love you, Luther,” I said as I wrapped my arms around him. “And I’m not going to attack you.”

“I love you too,” he whispered. “Do you need me to stay?”

“Maybe, but if you do, keep out of sight. I don’t know how he might react if he sees you again.”

Since it was still morning and Alfred said he would return that night, Luther left to get more clothes. While he was gone, I called Alek. I was so upset I could barely talk as I tried to tell him everything that had happened.

Once I began to calm down a little, he said, “I’m glad you called. I’ve had a vision that I’m afraid might concern you.”

He described seeing a drawer with a small golden padlock. The moment he described it I knew where I had seen it before. In Alfred’s bedroom, underneath the bay window, there was a small drawer with a lock just as he had described.

“After all that has happened, don’t you think you should take a look?” he asked.

My heart was in my throat as I walked into Alfred’s room. Before that day I would never have thought to invade his privacy. But after the way he had spoken to me, what else was he hiding? I hadn’t known he was capable of being so cruel, not to me. The phone was still in my hand as I knelt down and reached for the lock. I broke it loose without even bothering to look for a key. I was suddenly desperate to see what was inside.

A stack of ordinary papers sat inside the drawer. But my heart would not slow down. My pulse quickened to the point that I felt dizzy as I scanned the papers.

“These are his orders,” I said breathlessly to Alek. “It’s from when he was first assigned to be my partner. Wait.”

I turned the page and found to my horror, the rest of Alfred’s orders. I dropped the papers and threw up. I could hear Alek calling my name, but I’d dropped the phone. Right there in plain black and white, Alfred had been told that should my condition ever worsen, should I ever exhibit any signs of becoming a werewolf, he was supposed to kill me. HE HAD SIGHNED THE PAPER.

My hands shook so hard I could barely lift the phone as I told Alek between sobs what I had discovered. Before he could respond, I dropped the phone and ran into Alfred’s bathroom to be sick again. The world spun before my eyes. This wasn’t happening to me. I trusted him. I loved him. He would never hurt me, not Alfred. Not my Alfred. I couldn’t breathe.

*****

Something cold touched my face and I was startled awake. I was still on the floor of Alfred’s bathroom, and someone was holding a cool wet cloth to my face. I looked up into the most beautiful emerald eyes I had ever seen.

“You must have fainted,” Dracula said.

I remembered then what had happened and it felt like I’d been hit in the stomach. I practically vaulted for the toilet where I found I could no longer throw up.

“What is wrong?” he asked softly.

“You didn’t see the papers in the other room?” I asked between dry heaves.

“No. I came looking for you,” he replied as he continued to wipe my face.

“How did you get out?”

“You must have forgotten to lock the dungeon door.”

I told him what the orders I found had said and about how Alfred reacted to the newspapers.

“So, Dr. Alfred Moody is your lover and partner.”

“You know him?” I asked before gagging again.

“I have heard of Vengeance.”

Vengeance is what the lycans called Alfred, just as they called me Death.

“It makes sense, of course, that Death and Vengeance should be together. However, Death can show compassion, and Vengeance is blind,” he said softly.

I kept thinking that this wasn’t really happening. Alfred would never hurt me, he loved me. Alfred would be back any minute and he would love me, he would wake me from this nightmare.

“Your father would never give such orders.” It was a statement, not a question.

“No, they were given by the former commander. He still had an advisory position for the first three years my father was in office, and because my dad is such a nice guy, he let the bastard keep the authority to issue orders.” I stood up and staggered toward the sink. “What time is it?”

“It is four o’clock.”

“Aren’t you up early? There’s still sunlight.”

“Not today,” he said as he placed his hands on my shoulders while I splashed water on my face. “Have you not noticed the storm?”

“No,” I gasped. “Can you go outside? I need some air.”

Dracula followed me onto the porch. The cold February wind hit us hard and I realized I didn’t have on any shoes. The sky was so dark, it might as well have been dusk. He walked to one end of the porch to observe the lightning, and I propped against one of the columns near the steps. My heartbeat had just started to slow down when the door opened behind me. It was Alfred, and he was early.

I hadn’t expected to hurt so much just looking at him. My knees buckled and he ran to me.

“Lilith, I’m sorry. I had no right to speak to you that way.”

He hadn’t noticed Dracula standing on the far end of the porch, and I dared not glance at him for fear of what might happen.

“Don’t touch me,” I whispered.

“What?”

“Don’t touch me,” I said louder as tears froze against my cheeks in the icy wind. “I found your orders!”

For the first time Alfred looked afraid. “Lilith, I never meant for you to see those.”

“No, shit! You wouldn’t want me to know I’d been sleeping with my murder!” I stood up and nearly fell down the steps. “Oh, my God. I’ve been sleeping with my murderer,” I mumbled as I staggered into the rain. “I’ve been sleeping with my murderer!” I screamed as I fell to my knees in the mud.

“No, Lilith! I would never have hurt you.” He ran down the steps, but Alfred didn’t touch me. “I took the assignment so I could protect you. If I hadn’t someone else would have, and they might have killed you!”

“You wouldn’t hurt me, huh? Like you didn’t hurt me today? Like you didn’t think of me as human a few days ago? Alfred, I love you,” I cried. “I trusted you.”

“I never intended to follow through with those orders.”

“I’m sorry, Alfred, but I can no longer believe what you say.”

Suddenly there were hands underneath my arms, lifting me from the ground, but they were not Alfred’s. Dracula stood behind me, looking every bit as deadly as I was afraid he could be.

“Get out,” Alfred hissed.

I looked at Alfred and was unsure whom I should fear more.

“I am sorry,” Dracula’s voice carried on the wind like thunder, “but it is not your house, and I will not leave her to her murderer.”

“You’re taking sides with this animal, this … MONSTER?!” he asked me.

“Alfred, I’m not taking any sides—”

“There are things about him you don’t know!” Alfred insisted.

“And would you tell her?” Dracula interrupted. “Would you tell her what a monster I am when you could sleep with the woman you intended to kill should the need arise?”

“It’s not like that, and I don’t need to explain myself to the likes of you!”

“Why, am I not human enough to converse with?”

“You bastard!”

Alfred lunged toward Dracula and I ducked. However, it seemed as if the air itself picked Alfred up and flung him backward. He hit the ground just in front of the steps and we both stared at Dracula. The dark robe billowed out around him and like his hair it seemed to blend with the growing darkness. Lightning flashed over our heads and his emerald eyes began to glow.

“Don’t you touch her,” Alfred growled.

“You are far more dangerous to her than I could ever be,” Dracula replied as another blast of wind knocked Alfred back.

“Don’t hurt him,” I cried.

Dracula’s eyes never left Alfred as he answered me, “I have no intention of harming him. I am simply keeping him away from you.”

“How dare you?” Alfred snarled.

“Go back to Jacob,” Dracula said, and his voice too began to blend with the storm, as if the wind were speaking to us. “Go back and tell him his daughter has found the first Hunter, and you simply cannot abide by what she does. Tell him you want to be his partner again, and that Lilith is capable of working on her own. Do not come back here with vengeance in your heart, or you will never be able to get through the door, do you understand?”

“Yes.” Alfred sounded defeated. He looked to me then. “I’m sorry, Lilith. Don’t tell Jacob about the orders,” he pleaded. “He would kill me.”

I nodded. “I won’t. It would kill him to know you signed them, and I love my father too much to subject him to that.”

Alfred turned his back on us and walked back through the house to the transporter. As I watched him leave I began to scream. I screamed as if someone were tearing my insides out and fell back down into the mud. I ripped my clothes and pieces of my skin along with them and for the first time ever, I threw back my head and howled. It was the most chilling and mournful sound I had ever heard.

I was losing my mind. My chest hurt and I tore my shirt as if to rip my heart from my breast. Dracula hovered above me, his emerald eyes burned into mine. “You must stop this,” he said, “or you will destroy yourself.”

“Kill me,” I begged as I fought him in order to continue tearing my own flesh. “Kill me and save him the trouble.”

“You do not mean that.”

“Kill me! Kill me now! Save me from this slow death of disappointment,” I cried.

He cradled me in his arms and the storm seemed to calm. The wind was not as harsh, and the rain didn’t seem so cold. His grip on me tightened, and I welcomed it. I welcomed the press of his body against mine, and the comfort that I felt with his nearness.

“You told me last night that there is always something worth living for,” he said softly.

“And you said that hope is a naivety of youth. You were right.”

“No, I am just bitter. Do not let yourself become what I have been. It is somewhere you do not want to go.”

He withdrew from me slightly and I panicked. I screamed and fought him as he held me down in the mud to prevent me from making another attempt at tearing out my own heart. Suddenly there were lights in my face and I heard Luther yelling.

“She is trying to tear her heart out,” Dracula said in response to whatever Luther had been saying.

“Shit, Lilith. What’s happened?” Luther asked.

But I couldn’t answer, I fought them both with everything I had and I almost won. My weakness was, I couldn’t cause grievous bodily harm to innocent people.

“Hold her feet,” Dracula yelled as he sat on my waist and pinned my arms above my head. “Look into my eyes,” he commanded.

“No, you’re not going to hold me down and mind fuck me!”

“You leave me no choice. I cannot let you kill yourself.”

“Then do it for me,” I pleaded. “You made Alfred leave.” It was not an accusation, but a statement of fact. I recognized hypnotism when I heard it.

“Yes. It was the only way. He would never have left willingly and I had no desire to kill him, or watch you kill each other.”

Dracula squeezed my ribs tighter between his thighs as he commanded once more, “Look at me.”

This time I looked. I jumped in response to the pain in my ribs and before I knew it, he had captured me. The world stood still. “Relax,” he purred, and his voice seemed to float through my mind. “Relax. No one will harm you. Sleep, Lilith. Sleep, and know peace again.”

With my own powers weakened so severely by grief and disappointment, I had little choice except to obey. I slept.

*****

Dracula’s hypnosis could not hold me forever, for I was an unwilling captive. I knew what I wanted and I had to wake up or it could never be mine.

“Wake up,” I screamed to my body, “Wake up!”

I sat up on my bed, gasping for breath and for a moment it had all been a bad dream. But then I saw Alfred was gone, and I opened the clean pajamas I was wearing to find claw marks on my chest. I hadn’t managed to finish the job, but neither had Dracula, because I was awake.

All throughout my unwilling slumber I had called to him, and unless I had grossly underestimated my powers of persuasion, the wolf king should be well on his way. I walked out onto the balcony in the midst of the storm that still raged, and leapt over the railing. I hit the ground with the grace of a cat and began to run through the woods. I knew Marco was close, I could feel him. I could see him ahead of me as if he were a dream, running full out to my rescue. But, Marco couldn’t save me from myself.

I crashed into him, taking his body to the ground.

“Lilith, what’s wrong?” Marco never called me by my first name. I paused and he sat up. “What’s happened? I saw Luther when he came back to get some clothes. He told me how Alfred reacted to the newspaper. Is there something else? For God’s sake, Red, pack members could be dead right now and I came running to your rescue. What’s wrong?”

“Pack members could be dead?” I was stunned.

“I’ll explain it later. Did he hurt you?” Marco asked.

“He killed me.” Unbidden tears started to fall down my cheeks and Marco reached for me.

“I found Alfred’s original orders, the ones issued to him by the former commander of the Hunters. Apparently, the old commander knew more about my attack than I thought. The orders said that if I ever showed signs of becoming a werewolf, he was supposed to kill me.” I couldn’t look at Marco as I added, “Alfred signed them.”

I spoke as if I was talking about someone else’s life. It still didn’t seem real that Alfred had signed what amounted to my death warrant.

Marco listened in silence until I asked, “What’s happening to me? I think I’m cracking up.”

“You’re in shock,” he explained. “Severe trauma of any kind has a tendency to bring out the beast.”

“Are you saying I’m a beast?”

“No. I’m saying you are so upset that you’re not thinking clearly. You’re reacting now purely on instinct, like an animal. This could last a few hours, or it could last a few days.”

“What calms the beast?” I asked.

“Food, sex, or violence normally,” he said softly. “Go home, Red. Get something to eat, preferably a rare steak, and we’ll discuss this later. You’re in no condition to make any decisions right now.”

“Kiss me,” I whispered and I felt Marco shiver as my voice flowed over him. “Comfort me, Marco. I need to be held, to be touched. Let me draw strength from your desire.” His lips were a warm promise in the midst of the cold rain. I tore his shirt open, sending buttons flying into the dark. “I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you,” I breathed against his throat while my hands roamed hungrily over his chest. “Take me, Marco. Give me what I’ve been missing.” I snatched his belt off and threw it on the wet ground.

“No,” he panted as he tried desperately to restrain my hands.

“Why not?”

“I can’t let you use me, Red. Like you once told me, I can’t do this without it meaning something … and I need it to mean something.” I slumped against him as he continued. “You’re saying all the right things, honey, but you’re not in your right mind.”

“Go save your pack,” I whispered as I rose from his lap.

“Go home, Red. You’ll be safe there. I’m sorry to have to leave you like this, but some people have been attacked, and I’m not sure how bad the situation is yet. I’ll check on you as soon as I’m able, but I’ll sleep better if I know you’re with Luther.”

Chapter Twelve

If I had been in my right mind I would have been grateful for Marco’s concern and just gone home where I was safe. But, like he said, I wasn’t in my right mind. My emotions were raw, and my mind was in shock. The beast inside me demanded some sort of satisfaction, and I knew just where to find it. Marco watched as I started back home, but he had been wrong about one thing. Home was the worst place I could have gone.

I climbed the tree that Marco had often sat in and leapt onto the balcony where the doors remained open. Just as I closed the doors Dracula entered the room.

“Where have you been?” he asked, taking in my wet clothes and hair.

“Out.”

“You should not be awake yet. Your state of mind could be dangerous.”

“I know,” I whispered this as I flipped the switch in my mind that unleashed the power of The Seducer. “In the past few hours everything I thought would never happen, has happened. First, I found you. Then, Alfred turned on me. Next, it turned out he had actually been sent to kill me if I ever became more of a monster. And just now, Marco turned me down.”

“What would you have of me?” he asked softly.

“I want the man I’ve been dreaming about. Not the magic, just the man. Don’t play games with me.” And as I walked toward him I relented my own hypnotic power. “I’ll do the same,” I promised. “I want to know the man, not the monster.”

“No one has asked for that in a very long time.”

“What do you ask of me?”

“I do not expect you to love me in the morning,” he said softly, “but pretend you do tonight.”

He closed the distance between us and I opened his robe. “How is it you’re not covered in mud and rain?”

“Have you never read my fiction?” He smiled. “Power over the storm and the beasts of the field,” he quoted. “I never got wet.”

“Well,” I replied as I licked my lips, “we’ll have to correct that.”

I caressed his chest, barely resisting the urge to lick his smooth skin. I ran my hands up over his shoulders, pulling the robe down. He seemed shocked by my desire, but not intimidated. I snatched the robe down his arms, tearing a gasp from his perfect lips. I moved closer to him and traced those lips with my fingertip. I marveled at the feel of his skin beneath my hand as if I were in a trance.

“I’ve waited a long time to see this face,” I whispered as I caressed his left cheek.

Everyone who had known this face as I would know it was dead. Of all who had once loved him, none remained.

“How long has it been?” I asked.

“Since I first dreamed of you,” he whispered.

“Too long,” I said as I stood on tiptoe and pulled his lips down to mine. Kissing him was beyond anything I had ever felt. Fire ran through my veins and I nearly fell to my knees. “You said you wouldn’t use magic,” I panted.

“I will control what I can, but some of it is just me.”

“Then touch me,” I commanded, “and let nature worry about the rest.”

Suddenly, we were all over each other, grasping, tearing fabric, trying to get free of our clothes. He pressed me back against the silk sheets. As I looked into his dark green eyes I realized that what I saw at the club was not a vision of what I wanted to do to him, I had seen the future. His dark hair cascaded over my eyes and I reached upward to meet his kiss. I slid the silk pajamas over his hips as I took his cock in my hand. He was hard and warm, and practically throbbing against my palm. I caressed the length of him with my fingertips and was not disappointed. I was more than ready as I guided him toward my pussy and arched my body to meet his.

He thrust into me in one move and it took my breath. He looked at me through the dark curtain of his hair as if asking my permission to continue.

“Don’t stop,” I panted. “Take me like you never took me in my dreams.”

Dracula pressed me into the mattress as he ground his hips against mine, leaving me delirious with desire. With every move he touched my clit as he thrust into me deeply. The sensations flowing through my body were incredible, and yet I still didn’t come. He knew exactly what to do to take me there and he was holding back.

From that point, I remember nothing but the feel of him, the rocking motion of his body against mine. The sound of silk sliding against silk as I rose to meet his every thrust.

I turned my head to the side in order to breathe. His face was pressed against my cheek, fingers entwining through mine, gripping me harder, pushing me nearly through the bed. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. There was only his touch, his breath against my skin. I wanted to hear him scream. I pulled my hands away from him and ran my fingers through his hair. I got a handful of his thick hair near the nap of the neck and pulled his head back, exposing his throat.

I traced from his collar bone to his chin with my tongue and he moaned. It was enough for me. I couldn’t hold out to hear him scream. I wrapped myself around him as wave after wave of orgasm shook my body. A warm rush flowed through me like living flame. I felt this fire pass through me and into Dracula, tearing a scream of release at long last from his lips.

“Are you all right?” he gasped as he brushed the hair back from my face.

I nodded, but I could not yet speak. We both collapsed against the pillows and I felt like I’d been drugged.

“So, you are Mathias’ granddaughter,” he said.

“You knew him too?”

“Everyone knew him,” he replied with a satisfied smile. “I noticed the resemblance before, but now I am convinced.”

“What made up your mind?” I asked as I tried to catch my breath.

“Your scratches have already healed.”

I looked down at my chest. He was right.

“How well did you know Mathias?” I asked.

“We were friends before my breakdown in the Middle Ages.”

“Then he probably told you the consequences of—”

“Someone having sex with him? Yes. I know about your ability to take on the characteristics of your lovers. I also know how you healed the scratches, so do not feel you owe me an explanation. I am a grown man; I knew what I was getting myself into when I walked in the room.”

“Is that so?” I sat up and my eyes provoked my heart to a faster rhythm as I gazed at the perfection of his body. “The night is young,” I whispered as I rolled on top of him.

“Sex cannot heal a broken heart, my angel,” he said softly.

“Are you refusing me?”

“Never,” he whispered.

“If you get too weak, you can always go bite Luther and come back,” I teased.

His laughter floated over my skin as I kissed the man of my dreams once again.

“There’s something I want to know,” I mumbled against his throat.

“What is that?”

“In all these years, is there anything you haven’t tried in bed? Or, is there anything you haven’t done in a while that you’ve missed?”

“I have done many things,” Dracula said as he smiled faintly, “but there is nothing more arousing than a beautiful woman who genuinely wants to be with me. It does not matter what she does, just as long as she enjoys what she is doing.”

“If you have no objections then, there’s something I’d like to do you,” I said silkily.

“I am yours,” he sighed.

I reached in the dresser beside the bed and pulled out my black belt which I placed on the crimson sheets beside him while I once again straddled his waist. Bending low over his body, I kissed every ridge and curve of his flat stomach. When I reached his nipple I bit down and he screamed, but not as if he were in pain.

“Yes,” he moaned, “bite me.”

I bit harder, pulling the flesh between my teeth. After a few short moments of this, he was ready for me again. To my surprise, I still ached with desire. I craved his touch.

Once again I took his cock in my hand. I positioned myself above him, using the tip of his cock to spread my pussy open and slid slowly down the length of him. I rolled my hips slowly, tentatively as I watched his face. Much to my satisfaction, his eyes rolled and his dark lashes fluttered. I contracted my muscles, squeezing him tighter inside of me and he cried out. Just as I had suspected, Dracula was a moaner. I like that. It’s always good to have feedback. I ran my hands up and down his chest as I moved slowly against him. He was so long and hard that I could not sit up completely. So, I leaned forward, placing my hands against him for leverage as I quickened my pace. He moaned again, and my mind was lost to the rhythm as I ground my hips against him. I ached for him in a way I could not describe. It was like nothing I had ever felt and no amount of effort seemed to give me the release I needed.

I reached for the belt and in the blink of an eye it was securely buckled around his throat. To my delight, there was no fear in his eyes as I looked down at him, only trust. He was over two thousand years old, and no telling how powerful. And he gave up control. With the look in his eyes he gave himself to me and I accepted this gift.

I wrapped the belt around my hand and pulled it tight as if I were guiding the reigns of a horse while I rode him. His back arched as he grabbed fistfuls of my scarlet sheets between his hands.

“Yes,” he whispered, “yes.”

I pulled the belt tighter as my pace grew more frantic.

“Tighter,” he moaned as he threw his head back again, and I pulled the belt tighter.

I could see the veins in his neck throbbing from the pressure.

“Are you sure you want it this tight?” I asked.

The way the corners of his mouth teased me with a smile was thrilling. “You cannot kill me,” he said. “And I like it rough now and then.”

I growled in response to his words.

“Let the beast I see in you free. Unleash it here with me.”

I pulled the belt even tighter and Dracula gasped as his face flushed. I growled again, only this time there was nothing human about the sound. My eyes burned and I knew they had turned to amber.

“What do you need?” I asked, my voice commanding.

“Give me what you feel. If you are hurting, hurt me. And if you need love, all you have to do is ask.”

His offer was tempting, but I still hesitated until he said, “Do it.”

I gripped him tighter with my thighs and rolled to my back, putting Dracula on top of me.

“Fuck me hard,” I told him.

He slammed into me and I cried out as I reached to loosen the belt. I hooked two fingers between the belt and his throat as I pulled him down to me.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” I moaned against his lips.

He thrust into me deep and fast and I clung to him. My hands roamed up and down his back until I could no longer resist the urge to tighten my grip.

“Yes,” he said, some of his magic creeping into his voice. “Dig into my flesh. Hurt me.”

I felt my nails lengthening into claws, only I didn’t let them grow fully. I looked into Dracula’s emerald eyes as I pressed against his back just hard enough to prick the skin. His eyelashes fluttered as I ran my nails down his back, no doubt drawing blood.

Tears spilled down my face as a release I didn’t think was possible flooded me. It wasn’t orgasm. It was relief from some of the pain I felt.

“Hurt me,” he said, and as he looked down at me I saw he was crying too. “Let me take your pain.”

“Why?” I asked, still wary of hurting him.

“Because I can.”

I dug my nails roughly into his back and he screamed as he thrust into me again. He pumped in and out, harder and faster. I moved my hands back to his chest and gasped when I saw they were covered with his blood.

I used the belt for leverage as I pulled him to me and kissed him deeply once more. My tongue moved over his fangs and I felt the beginning twinges of orgasm. I gripped him once more with my thighs and flipped Dracula to his back.

“Faster,” he gasped, and I went faster.

I could feel the fire building within me, and I knew my release would soon come. A sensation began at the back of my spine, an agonizing tension that flowed into my hips as my muscles gripped him tighter. My back arched so suddenly I thought my spine might snap as orgasm overtook me. Once again, I felt the fire flow from my body to his, and Dracula’s cries of release soon echoed my own.

I rested my face against his chest and unbuckled the belt. His neck was red from the pressure and he instantly gasped for air.

“Was it good for you?” I teased.

He laughed and I rolled beside him. His body glistened with sweat and blood. I ran one hand over his slick wet chest as I asked, “Would you like to get in the tub with me, if it’s not cold water, and I don’t invite Luther?”

He sighed contentedly. “I would love to.”

When I went to sit up I noticed my scars were exposed. I found it hard to believe that I had been so caught up in the moment I hadn’t given them a second thought. Looking back at Dracula in all his pale perfection, I felt awful. I moved to cover my stomach and he stopped me.

“What are you doing?” he asked softly.

“My scars,” I said trying to think of an explanation for my behavior. “I hadn’t meant for you to see them.”

“Do you think I do not have scars?” As he said this, he took my hand to prevent me from covering my lower abdomen. Dracula rose to his feet in front of me and turned around.

At first all I saw was blood. “Oh, my God. Why did you let me do this to you?”

“Your scratches have already healed,” he said softly. “It is only blood. Look closer.”

I ran a hand over his back, wiping away some of the blood so that I could see his skin. His back was covered in long white scars. Thin lines in crisscrossed patterns marred the perfection of his skin. From the look of it, someone had nearly whipped him to death.

“How did this happen?” I asked.

“Someone turned my own weapon against me,” he explained as he turned back to face me. “A cat o’nine tails with bits of sharp silver on the ends.”

“What did you do to them?”

“I killed them,” he answered, showing no emotion as to how he felt about his revenge.

Dracula knelt in front of me and ran a hand over my scars. I tried to withdraw, but he would not allow it.

“Are these from your attack?” he asked.

“Yes.”

The scars are a remnant of my attack. There are several vicious slashes across the right side of my stomach, beginning level with my belly button, and extending to the front of my upper hip bone. Three diagonal cuts above my navel, and three cuts at an angle on the left side. I watched with mingled horror and adoration as he pressed his lovely face against the ruined skin.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are,” he whispered. “These scars are a small thing in comparison.”

“They ruin me,” I said.

As much as I would have liked to remain emotionless, I felt tears sliding down my cheeks as he continued to rub his face against my skin like a cat. For lack of a better word, he was worshiping me and I was overcome.

“No. They make you who you are,” he said, “and I would see all of you.”

“How did I not see your scars before?” I asked, my voice still thick with emotion. “I was standing behind you when you had your shirt off.”

“Because I did not wish to appear imperfect in the eyes of a beautiful woman.”

“You clouded my mind?”

“Do you prefer to see the scars?”

“Yes.”

“Do they add character?” he asked with a smile. That subtle curling of lips set me on fire all over again.

“They make you who you are,” I said with a wink, feeling better about myself.

My knees wobbled slightly as I made my way into the bathroom. I let the water run while I lit the vanilla scented candles scattered about the room. Some sat on the floor, others across the vanity, and some were placed around the edge of the tub.

Dracula turned off the light in the bedroom. I looked up as he walked through the door and my breath caught. He was every bit the dream I had held so dear. His naked body glistened in the candlelight, and strands of dark wet hair clung to his throat. He was formed of a devastating and heartrending beauty, making him almost painful to look upon. But pain and pleasure are sometimes separated by only a thin line.

I watched as Dracula dampened a bath cloth and wiped the blood from his chest.

“I have no objection,” he said. “But I thought you might prefer your bathwater to be without blood.”

I smiled as I took the cloth from him and he turned to face the mirror so I could wash his back.

“I still can’t believe I made you bleed. I’ve never done anything like that before.”

As I spoke I looked at him in the mirror and met his gaze. “Perhaps that is part of the problem,” he said. “A woman who is half wolf, who has never become a beast in bed.”

I ran my hands over his back. The blood was gone now, and I enjoyed the feel of his muscles and thin white scars. To have him here with me, to touch him after so many years dreaming of him, was incredible.

“Most people don’t like to be scratched until they bleed,” I said.

His smile was wicked. “I am definitely not most people. Tell me, how did it feel the moment you knew you had drawn blood.”

“Like relief.”

I wrapped my arms around him and Dracula moved slightly so that I was underneath his right arm. We both stared into the mirror.

“I’ve always made an effort to hold back,” I admitted. “Not just from scratching anyone, but even to control my eyes. The thought of anyone being afraid of me while we were naked together is upsetting to say the least.”

He turned to face me and the last glimpse of his reflection showed something I hadn’t expected. Tenderness and another emotion I couldn’t quite read.

I looked up at him and when he kissed my forehead I felt like I was melting inside.

“You should never hide who you are, especially not from someone you are intimate with.”

His words and that soft kiss had moved me nearly to the point of tears. I could only nod in response before turning back to the tub.

“I believe this calls for music,” he said, gesturing toward the candles.

I told him where I kept my collection of CDs while I ran vanilla bath oil underneath the faucet. The view as he left the room was almost better than when he had just walked in. I lowered myself slowly into the water and breathed deeply of the soft fragrance. The smile was involuntary as Barry’s deep mellow voice drifted in just before Dracula walked back through the door.

“Of all the music to choose from,” I said.

“What? Everyone likes Barry.”

The muscles of his upper thighs flexed as he stepped into the tub and my heart gave a painful jump.

“Did you really think you would never find me?” he asked as he slid toward me through the water.

“I always knew deep down that I would, but part of me was afraid you were just a dream,” I admitted.

“That is sweet for someone who is only pretending to be in love with me.”

What could I say? In some way, I had loved the dark stranger of my dreams. But the man in front of me was definitely not a dream. He was real, and I barely knew him. It was strange to be with someone who was so new and yet so familiar. His presence was familiar to me like a favorite song, and I was at ease.

“Let me wash your hair,” I said softly.

He turned his back to me. I traced some of his scars with my fingertips before pressing my face against his back.

“What happened to you?” I asked. As I said this I knew he realized I wasn’t talking about the scars.

“I was part of the original group of Hunters,” he began. “Shortly after the first year of infection, my family was murdered. My mother, my father, and my sister. There were rumors of creating a weapon, the ultimate Hunter, some called it. But they needed a test subject. Most of them knew who my grandfather was, and they were happy to take me on when I volunteered.”

“Who was your grandfather?” I asked.

“I am a descendant of The Rainmaker.”

The Rainmaker, like his name implied had power over the storm. That would certainly explain the display Dracula had put on earlier in the evening.

“The virus had begun to spread to Earth, and they felt that sending someone here who was better equipped to deal with werewolves would prevent more Hunters from losing their lives. I was given a synthetic twenty fourth pair of chromosomes. At first things worked as they were intended. I did my job and I enjoyed it. But, with every werewolf I slaughtered, I grew hungry for more. The thirst for blood was something they gave me, and they did so without my knowledge. Originally, the bloodlust was only for lycanthropes, an extra incentive to hunt them. But pretty soon, all blood started to taste like candy. Werewolves were just a little closer to chocolate. The superior night vision I was given became the extreme photosensitivity I have today.”

I could feel how painful it was for him to talk about his past, and I held him tighter as he continued. “They needed someone who could heal quickly in order to withstand a werewolf attack. The people unfortunate enough to have inherited my curse die with the dawn. However, I go into more of a regenerative coma during most of the day. It is not a true death, but closer to sleep.”

“When did you first realize something was wrong?”

“I looked in the mirror one day and realized I had stopped aging. I looked young, even for a wizard. Forever trapped at thirty-something.” He smiled ruefully. “In trying to make me stronger, they had made me immortal. That is when the thirst became stronger. For a time I lost control completely. I was horrified, not only at what had been done to me, but by what I had become. I was more of a monster than anything I hunted. I was also more contagious than I had thought. But it was too late. Vampirism was already spreading beyond my control. The Vampire Council believes me to be the original, as do many others. I am not certain this is true.”

“Have you ever met a vampire older than you?”

“No. But I have heard rumors of such. There are many types of vampires, all with different abilities. The virus mutates differently when it comes in contact with new DNA. That could easily explain the variety of vampires. However, there could have been vampires long before me. I had never heard of them, but that does not make it any less plausible. Perhaps they were nearing extinction and the doctors who experimented on me used strands of their DNA. Maybe their intention all along was to make me a super monster instead of a superior Hunter. Who knows? I have often speculated about the possibilities.”

We were both silent for a moment before he said, “I tried to kill myself several times. I have stayed out in the sun until I caught fire, only to regenerate at sundown.”

“What made you volunteer for something like that?”

“Revenge,” he said vehemently. “When I learned the werewolf who had killed my family was still free, I went into a rage. I did not understand how God could allow this to happen to good people. So, I decided that if God would not grant me vengeance, I would take it for myself. But I was a fool. I found the one responsible.” He paused and placed his hand over mine against his chest. “I slaughtered his family first … like cattle, and then I went after him.”

He was quiet for several heartbeats before he continued. “But it was not enough. Too late I learned that there is no revenge for what was done to my family. Do you know why I am an idiot?” he asked suddenly. “Because vengeance is MINE sayeth the Lord.”

I found it interesting that Dracula was religious. For a being like him who had seen so many awful things to still believe in a higher power at all was pretty amazing to me.

“And this is why you believe you’re cursed?” I asked softly.

“This is why I know I am cursed,” he said. “I have done horrible things, Lilith.”

“I’m not your judge,” I said as I reached for the shampoo.

He grew quiet once more while I washed his long dark hair. When it was time to rinse, he slid forward and dipped back in the water, putting his head in my lap.

“How did you go from such hatred to getting high with the Jamaicans?” I asked.

He smiled sadly as he replied, “Like I said, there is no revenge to satisfy such injustice. I eventually began to understand that every werewolf was not my enemy. Many were just as cursed as I.”

“You pitied them?”

“No, I understood them. They had not asked for what happened to them. At least I had the opportunity to volunteer.”

“And the one who gave you those scars?”

“Those scars are the handiwork of a pack of werewolves. They caught me by surprise, chained me to the ceiling, and nearly whipped me to death. They cut me loose, thinking it would be ironic for a vampire to bleed to death, I suppose. But that was their mistake.”

“Your turn.” As he said this Dracula sat up and faced me again. Water flowed smoothly through his hair and down his chest, making me hungry for him again. I rested my head against his chest as the vampire’s long fingers massaged their way across my scalp.

“Do you have any body oil?” he asked.

“Mmhm.”

“I would like to rub you down once we get out,” he said, and made it sound like a delightful sin.

“That sounds great, but why?”

“Like I said, I do not expect you to love me in the morning. This might be my only opportunity to do the things to you I have dreamed about. I would not want to miss my chance.”

I slid down in the tub to rinse my hair as I considered what he had just said. Would it be his only chance? I simply couldn’t say.

“For all we know, the world might end before morning,” I said as I turned to face him again, “and we might all never have another opportunity to do the things we didn’t have the nerve to do today.”

He reclined against the tub and I leaned into his embrace. Without warning tears began to fall from my eyes and my vision blurred.

“I miss Alfred,” I whispered.

“I know,” he said softly as he held me tighter. “You probably always will.”

I looked up into his emerald eyes as I pleaded, “Heal me from this pain. Make it go away.”

“My angel, I cannot.”

“Yes, you can,” I insisted. “You helped me release some of my anger and pain. You can heal a broken heart, I know you can. It’s one of the things I sensed about you in my dreams. That’s why I always dreamed about you more after a bad relationship, or after someone hurt my feelings. You can heal me, you just don’t want to.”

“I cannot make your pain go away,” he admitted, “but I can help to make it more bearable.”

“Then help me,” I begged.

“I do not have the strength,” he said sadly.

I straddled his waist as I looked deeply into his eyes. “Then take my strength.”

“No.”

“As amazing as it was, what we did before only calmed the beast. My heart is like an open wound. I would give all I have to be rid of even a fraction of this pain,” I cried. “Please, help me.”

“You do not know what you are saying.”

“I’m a grown woman,” I said, echoing his earlier response, “and I knew what I was getting into when I brought you home.”

Chapter Thirteen

“I do not think anyone ever knew what they were getting into when they brought me home,” he said with a smile.

Instinctively, I knew how to coax him into agreeing to my request; I would have to seduce him. But if I used my power, he would know. He kissed my cheek and I pulled his lips to meet mine. The faint salty taste of my tears mingled with his own tantalizing flavor and I moaned in spite of my heartache.

“Help me,” I whispered against his lips. “I can help you as well. Through my touch, I have the ability to ease the pain of others, but I cannot help myself.”

When I looked into his eyes again they were filled with tears. “No one has offered to relieve my pain since before Mathias passed. I thought I was the only one left with such ability. You would do this for me?”

“Yes,” I said and kissed him again. “I will take your despair if you’ll take my heartbreak.”

“We might end up draining each other completely. I have never attempted anything like this before, and I am weakened.”

“Take me,” I insisted again. “Take what strength I have and use it.”

He held my face between his hands and his eyes glowed the deep and solid emerald they had before when he became a part of the storm. No pupil was visible as I gazed into his eyes.

“If you are sure,” he said, making it a question.

“Yes,” I answered, “but don’t hypnotize me.”

“It will hurt.”

“I want to feel it,” I insisted. “I want to be aware.” He kissed me again and I reached underneath the water between our bodies. “And I want you inside of me.” He grew hard as if by my command, but not quite as hard as before. I think he was running low on blood. Once more I slid him inside of me as I pressed my hips against him.

He moved down my throat, kissing softly, moving closer to my jugular. My heart beat faster and I wasn’t sure if I was afraid or excited. He nibbled and sucked at my throat as I quickened my pace. The anticipation made me frantic with desire. He moaned against my throat as my pussy squeezed him tight and I couldn’t hold back any longer. It was too much. I felt my muscles spasm around him as he sank his fangs into my neck. The pain was immediate and sharp. But no sooner had it begun than it started to subside. It felt as if he were pulling me into him with every breath, and with every pull another wave of orgasm shook me. He held me tighter as he drained my blood and I felt him grow harder inside of me. My arms became limp where they had gripped his shoulders and he released me instantly.

I gasped as he thrust into me and ran his fingers through the back of my hair.

“Do not fight it,” he whispered near my ear. “I will not kill you.”

He thrust into me again, harder this time and I screamed, but not with pain. Dracula wrapped his arms more securely around me and I began to feel the tightness in my chest lifting. The horrible cold ache in the pit of my stomach began to subside and I started to cry with the release.

He deserved to have the favor returned. I placed my hands firmly on his back once more and unlocked the power inside me. I felt the loneliness of centuries began to pour into me. For a brief moment I knew desperation so intense I would have done anything to escape it and realized this must have been the feeling that made him try to end his life.

“NO,” Dracula cried as he pulled back enough that I lost contact. “You cannot take it all, it would destroy you.”

“Did I help?” My voice sounded weak. “Do you feel better?”

“I am fine.” He smiled. There was a warmth in his eyes I hadn’t noticed before. If possible, he seemed more beautiful, and more alive.

A rush of weakness ran through me and I fell against him.

“It is all right,” he whispered softly. “This is normal, you will be fine.”

Dracula continued to murmur words of comfort as he wrapped me in a towel and carried me to bed. I sat up and used the towel to dry my hair while he lit the bedroom candles.

“This light is easier on my eyes,” he said as he continued to smile at me.

“You’re easy on my eyes,” I said as I stretched out on my stomach across the bed. “How long will you stay?”

“As long as you need me to. Actually, I own some property not far from here, an hour’s drive maybe. I bought it around the time Vincent built this house,” he said as he gestured around the room. “Are you cold? It is normal after losing blood to have a chill.”

“A little,” I answered.

The house had a few central fireplaces which ran through more than one room. The one at the foot of my bed also ran through Alfred’s room downstairs. I felt a loss when I thought about him, but I no longer wanted to tear my heart out.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice still sounded faint. “I feel better.”

“You are welcome.” As he began to build a fire he confessed, “I have not felt this good in centuries.” He walked to the corner where I kept a large basket of neatly folded blankets. “Come here,” he said as he spread a black velvet throw in front of the fire.

The candlelight reflected in his eyes seemed appropriate for he must have been the devil. Nothing that bad for me had ever looked so good. As I stretched out in front of the fire I noticed he had already located the bottle of body oil and had it warming beside the hearth. I lay on my side, staring into the flames for a few minutes before saying, “I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to take advantage of you.”

He pulled me to a sitting position again and looked me in the eye. “How sweet. You are genuinely concerned for my feelings. I assure you,” he said with a slow, sensual, smile, “I wanted to be taken advantage of.” I must have still looked doubtful because he added, “You have not used me, my angel. I do not expect your undying loyalty in exchange for my body tonight. I understand that you are hurt and you have unresolved feelings for the werewolf. You can get back to me.” He winked. “I have all the time in the world.”

“You’re very understanding.”

“I have my moments.”

He motioned for me to lie back down and I stretched out on my stomach again. The fire was warm against my back. The feel of the hot oil combined with his knowledgeable touch was better than any sleeping pill.

“Do you wish me to stay with you until the morning?” he asked.

“Won’t you burn in the sunlight? Even with the curtains closed, there’s still a good bit of light in here.”

“As long as I am not in direct sunlight, I will be fine. I can rest in soft light. Besides, it should still be raining tomorrow. I doubt we will see the sun.”

“Will you stay with me then?” I asked, and my voice sounded more wounded than I would have liked. I needed him with me, and it was obvious by the way I asked him to stay.

“Of course. Sleep,” he said softly as he massaged the backs of my shoulders. “It is only an hour before dawn. I will put you in bed when the oil has dried.”

“But there’s blood on the sheets,” I said. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten that.

He laughed softly. “I am a wizard, remember? I already cleaned the sheets before we got in the tub. Magic can be useful for things like that.”

For a moment I listened to the crackling fire and breathed in his scent as he bent down to kiss my face. It seemed only minutes later I was in bed. Silk sheets felt smooth against my skin as I curled underneath the covers. I saw Dracula sitting at my writing desk, and for a moment I thought he was talking to someone on my communicator. I convinced myself this was a dream and closed my eyes.

Chapter Fourteen

Last night the dark stranger in my dreams had done something I had waited years for. At long last his face was made clear to me along with every inch of his beautiful body. He had made love to me as if my body was the only thing standing between him and his sanity. My heart beat faster and I opened my eyes to find the arms that held me were no longer in my dreams.

The curtains were closed, and though a storm rumbled outside, a soft light still crept across the floor. The clock said it was nearly noon. As I recalled, Dracula didn’t wake before four o’clock, so that gave me plenty of time to just look at him. He had slipped back into the pajamas, and I ran my hand over the dark silk covering his thigh. I moved his arm where it rested across my shoulders in order to get a better look at him. He didn’t look a day past thirty-five. I brushed a stray hair back from his face and smiled to myself at the memory of the night before. What had I gotten myself into? I couldn’t keep him forever, especially with the way I was sure Marco would feel about the situation.

He was right, I did have unresolved feelings for Marco. But, looking down at the man in my bed, I couldn’t bring myself to feel more than a passing twinge of guilt. Alfred and I were finished. No matter how much the thought hurt, it was true. I knew Marco cared for me, but we were not promised to each other. He might not feel the same way, but last night I was a free woman, and I had freely given myself to Dracula. He helped to ease my pain and reminded me I was desirable. With Marco I felt loved, but with the vampire, I had felt cherished. I rose slowly even though I knew I wouldn’t wake him and went to my writing desk. Images of candlelight and his gorgeous body filled my mind as I wrote:

Devil

The candlelight reflected in your eyes seems appropriate, for I’ve always seen the devil in you. My polished red apple, my original sin. You manage to entice me with your charming grin.

I hadn’t submitted anything for publication in a while. Something told me the media had not yet realized I was also a poet. It didn’t matter. I liked the poem and intended to submit it to my publisher as soon as possible.

After putting down my pin and paper, I walked back to the bed. I couldn’t seem to stop looking at him. What would I say to Marco? I didn’t want to hurt him, but I wouldn’t lie and say I hadn’t wanted Dracula. Needing to tame the beast had only given me a convenient excuse. The only times I had ever felt anything similar to what Marco referred to as the beast, I had been fighting for my life. Maybe that’s why I hadn’t noticed it so much. He said violence would calm the beast, so in those instances it was immediately satisfied.

Nothing could have prepared me for what had happened with Alfred. I just wasn’t ready to let go of him, but I had no choice. I also wasn’t ready to give up Marco. But after spending the night with Dracula, I might not have a choice there either.

I leaned over the sleeping vampire and pressed my ear to his chest. A faint heartbeat could be heard and I almost cried at the thought of that heart ever stopping. He had been lonely for so long. I would not insult him by pretending I hadn’t enjoyed being with him. He had been so willing to accept whatever I wanted to give, and that meant something to me. No one had ever trusted me so completely. Was it just because he had nothing more to lose, or had he known I wouldn’t hurt him? At least, not until he asked me to.

When I lifted my head I found him watching me. He remained completely still, but there was a smile in his eyes before it ever reached his lips.

“Did you think you had killed me?” he asked with a slow smile.

“No, but isn’t it early for you?”

He looked to the clock and grew very serious. “It would seem I have gained something from you,” he said softly. “I have not risen before late afternoon for a very long time.” He looked back to me then. “Do you feel all right? Have I harmed you in any way?”

I considered the question for a moment. “Actually, I feel good, very good considering how yesterday went.”

He fell back on the pillows again with a relieved sigh. “You will let me know if that changes? I would hate to think that the first person in centuries to care if I lived or died suffered ill effects from spending the night with me.”

“The only ill effect I’m suffering right now is starvation.”

“Did you work up an appetite?” His smile was both wicked and charming all at once.

“Do you want to come down with me? I can cover the windows if I need to.”

He looked out at the dark blue/gray sky and said, “I should be fine.”

Dracula put back on the long robe with its blood red lining and lounged in the chair beside my writing desk while I got dressed. I found another pair of comfortable pajamas. Seeing as how it was going to storm all day, I didn’t see the point in wearing anything else. I wasn’t planning to go out. Watching him sit at the desk prompted a memory from the night before also.

“You weren’t on my communicator last night, were you?”

“Yes.” His answer surprised me. “I hope you do not mind?”

“No, not really. But, what were you doing?”

“I did something I had not done in a long time, I reported to the commander.”

It took a minute for his words to sink in. “You called my father? Why? He would have recognized the inside of my bedroom! What did you talk about?”

“Calm yourself, my angel, I thought of these things. I told him who I was and we discussed my circumstances briefly. Then I told him you had been sedated since you were so upset by Alfred’s behavior, and I had just put you to bed. We discussed at some length how Alfred reacted so violently to anyone who was not strictly human.”

“What did he say?”

“Alfred is undergoing psychiatric evaluation as we speak.”

“Shit.” I sat down on the bed, feeling sick. “He doesn’t know about Alfred’s orders, does he?”

“I left that out. But, you have to admit, with H.A.V.O.C. now in effect, we are not just hunting werewolves anymore. Now, we are all expected to get along and Alfred’s attitude does not exactly agree with that policy.”

“We?”

“Yes, that is another thing we talked about. You see, I know why you were hired to find me. Call them, whoever your contact is and let them know I will be speaking to the council on their behalf. I have known for some time that they were tired of living in hiding.”

“Then why didn’t you do anything about it?”

“You just helped to lift me from a two hundred year funk last night. At the time they brought this to me before, I did not care. Before last night, I simply wanted my long life to end.”

“And now?”

“Now, Jacob is arranging for me to speak to the council. Apparently your uncle is Aldan Medwin, and Jacob believes he would be most interested in hearing what I have to say.”

“Anything else?” I asked numbly.

“Yes.” He paused. “I have asked to be reinstated.”

“You want to hunt again?”

“Actually, if you will have me, I would like to be the first member of your H.A.V.O.C. team.”

“Vlad, I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, the fact that you call me by first name says a lot.”

He was right. Even though he said I could call him Vlad, I’d kind of warmed up to the idea of referring to him as Dracula. After all, that was one of the names he had used in the past. If truth be told, I believe the idea of Dracula simply appealed to me. I really was attracted to tall, dark, and creepy, no matter how much I might have denied it.

“I just can’t believe you called my father.”

He held his arms out to me, and like an obedient child I went to him. “After Alfred returning the way he did, I knew your father would be worried.”

“Why would that concern you?”

“Because I would not want him to think I meant to hurt you. It is no secret how the commander feels about his daughter. Anyone who protects you instantly puts themselves in his good graces.”

“You manipulative son of a bitch.” I couldn’t resist smiling when I said this.

“That is not why I protected you, however, that is the reason I called Jacob before dawn.” He looked at me then and seemed unsure how to proceed. “He thanked me for my help, and asked that I keep an eye on you.”

“Why would he ask you to keep an eye on me? No one has heard from you in years. How does he know he can trust you?”

“I placed the call from your bedroom. What choice did he have?”

Dracula reached out his long fingered hand and touched the poem on the desk.

“I am familiar with your work,” he said. “This is beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you always write poetry after a night like we shared?”

His smile did things to my heart that it had no right to do.

“I wouldn’t know, nothing like that has ever happened to me before.”

On our way out of the bedroom he leaned close to me and said, “I have arranged a time for Alfred to come back and collect his things. I know this is painful, but it must be done.”

I had to hold onto the railing at the mention of Alfred moving out, but I managed to make it downstairs. I would make a point to not be there when he came. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see Alfred again, I just didn’t think I could take the pain.

We entered the kitchen to find a very disheveled looking Luther clutching a coffee mug between his hands and propping heavily on the table.

“Well, how was it?” he asked perversely. “Hmm? You guys have a good time? You know, I hear it’s rare to find a guy who can go all night.”

“Do you have a point, Luther?”

“Must you always have sex when I’m in the next room?” he burst out. “Oh, and I found your stash of cigars,” he added.

“You don’t smoke,” I said, laughing.

“After listening to that all night, I do. Son of a bitch.” He turned to Dracula who seemed to be enjoying the conversation. “What exactly did you do to her?”

“Nothing that will cause permanent damage,” he replied, smiling wickedly. Luther looked at my throat and Dracula added, “The bite marks will heal in a couple of days.”

“I’m afraid I might be gay,” Luther said to me suddenly. “Because I was this close to running up there and asking him to bite me last night.” He made a gesture with his hand as he said this and I snickered.

“Any time you are ready,” Dracula said as he opened his arms wide.

Luther gave a sort of horrified yell and left the room.

“I like him,” Dracula laughed. “Do you suppose I should explain to him that enjoying the bite of a vampire has nothing to do with sexual preference?”

“No,” I said. “He’ll figure it out.”

Luther came back in after a few minutes and informed me, “I cleaned the entire downstairs portion of the house last night.”

When I gave him a questioning look he elaborated. “Because I couldn’t sleep, obviously. I even cleaned up where you were sick in Alfred’s room.”

I was suddenly embarrassed. “Luther, you didn’t have to do that. I’m sorry I left such a mess.”

“Marco called me last night after you saw him in the woods. He warned me that because of the trauma of Alfred’s reaction to everything, you might not be in your right mind.”

“So, you expected me to calm the beast by attacking you last night?”

“Not really, but Marco thought you might.”

“And he sent you back knowing this?” I raised one eyebrow with the question.

“He knew I would be able to resist,” Luther responded with a shrug.

Dracula’s deep, throaty laughter floated over us from where he stood in the doorway. It was a knowledgeable, masculine laugh and it made the muscles in my stomach clench with excitement.

“Do not be so confident,” he taunted. “Had I wanted to, I do not believe even I could withstand the power of The Seducer.”

“Bastard,” Luther mumbled. “I should never have let you check on her.”

“She would have killed you last night,” Dracula answered. “As it is, I was nearly drained dry.”

I could feel myself blushing and knew I must look as red as the dark lining of his robe.

Luther rolled his eyes and said, “Did you even talk, or did you just immediately jump her when you opened the door?”

“Actually, we did talk,” I said trying to lighten the mood.

“About what?” Luther asked sarcastically while Dracula raised an eyebrow as if to say, “We did?”

“Yes. We had a lengthy discussion about his … whip appeal,” I said with a smile.

Dracula burst out laughing and Luther mumbled, “Goddamnit.” But, he was smiling. After that, Luther and I cooked breakfast while Dracula informed me Alfred would be there at around four thirty. I decided that would be a good time for me to visit Kat and see how she was holding up. Elijah’s sister Mary had recently moved to town and Kat was in the process of showing her the ropes. Mary had just finished her degree in interior design and would be helping Kat run the shop as well as freeing up some time for Kat to work on her new project next door, “The Pussykat Café.”

It took me a while, but I finally found my favorite pair of jeans. They were old and the knees were worn, but I liked them.

“Press be damned,” I said to myself as I put on my favorite t-shirt which read, “Pour some sugar on me.” The shirt was navy blue and it came to the waist of my low cut jeans, preventing me from exposing my scars in public. Still, I didn’t want any more pictures like the one Lola had taken to end up in the papers, so I added a short black blazer to the ensemble. The temperature was only going to reach into the fifties, so I put on a pair of boots to match the jacket. It was definitely not a day for sandals.

I had finally purchased a cell phone after becoming addicted to talking with Alek so often. I slipped the thin phone into my coat pocket and went back downstairs. There I found Dracula patiently explaining to Luther, “You are not gay.”

“Are you sure?” Luther asked anxiously.

“If you have to ask yourself the question, I really would not worry about it. Besides, enjoying the bite of a vampire has nothing to do with sexual preference. You think that room full of Jamaicans was all homosexual?”

I walked over to where they sat on opposite ends of the sofa. Dracula was draped in all his casual elegance over the golden throw on one end, while Luther clutched a pillow to his chest looking afraid at the other.

“As much as I would love to hear the rest of this fascinating conversation, I’m going to visit Kat. You have my number?” I asked Dracula.

“I will call you when he is finished,” he said.

I kissed Luther on the forehead and whispered to Dracula loud enough Luther could hear, that he was not to molest him while I was gone. Dracula laughed, but Luther didn’t seem to get the joke.

Chapter Fifteen

The drive into town wasn’t as bad as I had expected, but walking past Alfred’s Hummer to get to my car had nearly done me in. It was a cool drizzly afternoon. I was worried about what Marco had said about pack members being hurt, but didn’t think I should call him. There was no telling what he was in the middle of and having to deal with me might only hinder him. I would wait for him to call me.

As I parked in front of Kat’s shop I realized I had forgotten to cover the bite mark on my neck. I definitely did not want that in the news. I pulled the blazer more tightly around my throat and stepped out of the car.

The bell above the door chimed, letting Kat know someone was in her shop.

“Can I help you?” a sweet voice called from the back.

A young woman in her early twenties stepped from behind the counter. She was about my height with long blond hair and green eyes. I knew she must be Mary.

“That’s Lilith,” Kat yelled from the door to her office. “She can help herself.”

Kat approached me with a smile which faded the closer she got.

“What’s wrong?”

We went in the back to her office and I told Kat everything that had happened. She seemed more shocked than I had been. “I can’t believe that Alfred would …”

“Me either,” I agreed.

“He always seemed to adore you!” Kat had begun to pace the room as she tried to rationalize things out loud. When she sat back down she looked at me and I cracked.

“I was really happy,” I cried as she leaned in to hug me.

Kat held me and stroked my hair, not seeming to care that I was getting the front of her shirt wet. Have I mentioned how much I love her?

Once I managed to calm down several minutes later she asked, “So what was it like?”

“Having my heart torn out?” I said sarcastically. “It sucked.”

“No stupid, being with Dracula,” she asked, smiling. “Perverted minds want to know, so give it up. It will make you feel better.”

“It already did,” I confessed with a wicked grin. “This is going to sound insane, but he touched a part of me I didn’t realize was there.”

“Ooo, that sounds kinky.”

I laughed softly. “It was, but it was more than that. He accepted me. I saw it in his eyes. He didn’t care what I was, only that I was me. He asked for the beast and wasn’t afraid when he saw it.”

I got a little misty when I admitted, “He didn’t even mind my scars.” I wiped involuntary tears as they fell down my face. “I don’t know what to say. It was savage. I clawed him till he bled. I choked him, he bit me, and yet it was the most intimate experience I’ve ever had.”

Kat was right, telling her about my night with Dracula drastically improved my mood.

“Oh, Kat,” I sighed. “I just can’t put it into words.”

“Well, you’ve done a pretty good job, not telling me about it. I’d hate to hear you describe it accurately,” she joked. “You bitch, you goddamned bitch.” She laughed.

“I love you too,” I teased.

“You know,” she remarked thoughtfully, “after dating a werewolf, I just don’t think I can go back to normal men.”

I laughed, but then she asked, “What will you do about Marco?”

That was a question I was both dreading and ready to be finished with. I wanted to talk to Marco. Then at least I would know and could move on with my life.

“I don’t know. I’m hoping he will be more understanding than Alfred.”

“Maybe so,” Kat said comfortingly. “He’s a good man. Besides, he should know as well as anyone what the beast is capable of.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“So, Dracula is cool with everything?” she asked.

“Yeah, he understood that I have feelings for Marco. He seems fine. I just hope I haven’t ruined everything.”

Kat smiled sadly as she said, “I think it’ll take more than that to change the way Marco looks at you.”

Before I could respond the phone vibrated in my pocket and I jumped while Kat yelled, “Shit!”

“It’s Alek,” I said as I read the caller ID. “Shit, I forgot to call him back.”

“Hello.”

The signal was terrible. In the two minutes we tried to communicate I understood four words, “I’m on my way.”

“He’s coming here,” I told Kat frantically. “I’d better go.”

“If he’s hot will you call me?” she asked. I gave her a scathing look and she said with a smirk, “You’re on a roll. I just want to know if the wizard is hot, that’s all.”

“You’re scandalous.” I laughed as I ran to the door.

Fortunately, no one was on the street to see me leave in such a hurry. I’m not sure how, but I knew Alek would beat me to the house. The rain became harder as I reached the long gravel driveway. I pulled up in front of the house to find a 1999 Harley Fatboy parked beside my steps. Then I saw him, a tall thin man in a long leather overcoat. He was standing at my front door, soaking wet from the rain he had driven through, looking exactly like the kind of man my mother warned me about. The fact that he would drive through the pouring rain to show up at my door was touching to say the least.

He looked good for his age, late thirties to early forties maybe, though I knew he was much older. The fine lines around his eyes seemed to lend him a certain dignity that a younger version of himself might not have possessed. His eyes were brown, but not ordinary brown, more like a pale honeyed tea. He had the look of wisdom that a wizard should have, a look that says they know well the power they can wield, and it is not an easy burden. As I approached the door, I recognized him instantly as the man with kind eyes I had sketched after a dream last summer.

He had thick, dark blond hair, graying around the temples and worn slightly longer than was fashionable. Long enough to be tucked behind the ears, and stick out above his collar. His eyebrows, like his hair were thick, though slightly darker. They seemed to highlight the pale brown of his eyes. He had a long, almost aquiline nose which cast a slight shadow over his lips. His lips though far from thin, and not large enough to be considered full, remained in a perpetual pout. His perfect posture seemed to lend his tall, slender frame a dignity his tousled hair could not distract from. The fine lines around his eyes and mouth enhanced his charismatic features. His face, like his long leather coat, had an appealing, lived in look that matched his voice so very well. No matter the subject his voice held a quality which said, “There is nothing you can do or say that I haven’t done before.” Though Alek was much older than me, I found it difficult to see him as an old man.

“Lilith, I presume,” he said with a smile.

“Alek.” I sighed as I threw my arms around him. “You didn’t have to come.”

“Of course not, but I couldn’t leave you like this.”

“Aren’t you missing shining armor or something?” I asked.

“It would rust in this weather,” he said silkily. “Now tell me, what have I missed?”

I told Alek everything that happened just before and after our last conversation. Neither of us seemed to care that we were standing on the front porch, still soaking wet. The events of the past day and night fell from my lips so fast it’s a miracle he didn’t tell me to slow down. I trusted him and wanted his opinion. Though I felt a bit guilty for leaving him hanging, I was glad he had come. Alek and I had become nearly as close as I was to Kat, and it did me good to see him.

I had first heard the story of Alek Ambrose and his defeat of Tavarius Maeryn when I was thirteen. I blushed as I remembered my silly fantasy of him coming to my rescue, like a knight in shining armor. In a way, Alek had been my first crush. It was nice to finally have a man to match with those feelings.

As I continued my story, I paused when I got to the part where I spent the night with Dracula.

“Oh, Lilith,” he said as he touched my cheek. “You slept with the vampire didn’t you?”

“We didn’t sleep.”

“I thought you might do that,” he said calmly. “It would make sense with the state of mind you were in and the powers he’s rumored to have. I can understand where you might find comfort there.”

I must have looked surprised because he smiled at me kindly and said, “Did you expect me to be angry?”

“I’m not sure what I expected.”

“I’m your friend, Lilith, not your judge,” he said softly.

I hugged him again, and let the wet wizard in my house. The moment we set foot inside I remembered why I had been away, but it was too late. Alfred stood in the middle of the foyer staring at us with what could only be described as hatred.

“What’s he doing here?” Alfred asked.

The harshness in his voice nearly made me cry, but I kept my cool.

“He’s a friend of mine.”

Alfred cursed loudly in Italian before saying, “Do you realize who he is?”

“Yes, he’s Alek Ambrose.”

“He’s The Dream Weaver, Lilith! No wonder you’ve been acting so strange, you’ve been listening to him!”

“Me acting strange?!”

“That’s right, you acting strange. Did you know he has the power to manipulate people through their dreams? That’s right, he can access the subconscious mind and plant thoughts there, like turning against me!” Alfred yelled.

“Now before you get your knickers in a twist, let me explain,” Alek drawled in his slow British accent.

“I’m waiting,” I said, obviously surprised by this information.

“It’s true, I am known as The Dream Weaver. However, for me to have influence over someone as psychically powerful as yourself, would have taken more effort than I’m willing to admit.” He looked me in the eye as he continued, “Lilith, I’m your friend. I saw no need to mention this ability. First of all because I have not lived among my kind for many years now, and I’m not used to referring to myself that way. Second, because I haven’t nor do I ever intend to manipulate or mislead you.”

I believed him, it was just that simple. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew Alek was telling the truth and Alfred was overreacting. Dracula walked up behind Alfred as he said, “And you’re going to believe that?!”

“Yes, I believe him.” Dracula and I made eye contact and seemed to share a thought. “Maybe I should leave until you’re finished.”

“No,” Alfred said quickly, and his tone was less harsh. “Don’t leave.”

He looked at me, unable to continue whatever he was going to say, and I almost ran to him. I almost threw myself into his arms and asked him to stay. But then I remembered he had agreed to kill me when I was only seventeen years old. He had signed the death warrant of a seventeen year old girl who blindly trusted him. Remembering this helped me to stand my ground. He walked away and my vision blurred with tears.

“He is almost finished,” Dracula said as he put his arm around me.

“What about the lab?”

“He will work on that tomorrow.”

I nodded and to my embarrassment a few tears escaped before I quickly wiped them away. Alek walked into the sitting room and I heard him introducing himself to Luther as Dracula whispered for my ears only, “Do you wish me to stay another night with you?” The answer was yes. Yes, I wanted him to comfort me, but I didn’t want to further risk losing any chance I had with Marco. “Do not worry, we will let your friend sleep tonight. I am merely offering comfort, though you may always take whatever you need from me.”

I took a deep breath in order to keep from crying and leaned into his embrace. Dracula bent down so that my face rested against his throat as he wrapped me in his arms.

“It will get easier,” he said softly, “I promise.”

“And what promises are you making?” Alfred said bitterly from the other end of the hallway. “Would these be promises like you made Jacob? Keeping an eye on his daughter, huh? You filthy—”

“Careful how you finish that sentence, Alfred.” The words were out of my mouth before I took time to think what I was saying.

“You’re actually defending this monster?” he asked in amazement.

“This monster, prevented me from tearing my heart out after you left last night,” I said. “Don’t talk about things you don’t understand, Alfred.”

“I thought I understood you,” he said softly as he turned and left once more.

“Come on.” Dracula put his arm around me and led me onto the porch. Normally, there would have still been daylight at five thirty in the afternoon, but the storm prevented any light from passing through the clouds. We walked to the swing on one end of the porch where he sat down and held his arms out to me. The heavy silk robe fell open to reveal his body. The deep red lining contrasted nicely with the black pajamas against his pale skin. The wind was cold and I was beginning to get a chill.

“Take off your shoes,” he said, and I obeyed even though my feet were cold. I snuggled against his side and he hugged me close, as he covered me with the robe in one melodramatic swish of fabric. He took my feet and pressed them firmly against his inner thigh.

“You’re warm,” I said, sounding a little surprised.

“Did you expect the cold touch of death?” he whispered against my hair.

“Maybe,” I said, as I pressed my face against his throat again.

He no longer smelled of expensive cologne, but that did not mean he didn’t smell good. I breathed deeply as I pressed my face into his hair and he leaned over to accommodate. Dracula had his own scent, not unlike the werewolves. He simply smelled the way a man should smell, and having his soft dark hair covering my face I was lost in the feel of him. The cold rain beat down on the roof above us and fell loudly to the ground. The icy wind whipped past our faces, but it went unnoticed. I pressed my lips to the warm skin beneath his earlobe and ran my arm around the ridges of his stomach. I could feel his pulse beneath my lips, and as I accidentally brushed across one nipple, his heart beat faster.

“Will you comfort me tonight?” I asked softly.

I was beyond caring what anybody might think. In his arms I found some release from the awful pain inside of me. If I was ever going to get a good night’s sleep again, I needed him beside me to do so. I wasn’t sure if I would ever be able to sleep alone again. As long as I wasn’t alone, I had something else to think about. If I was by myself, I was afraid I might fall apart.

“Of course,” he said as he rubbed his face against mine.

After a few minutes Luther came outside, I didn’t even notice until he cleared his throat loudly.

“He’s gone.”

At this announcement I felt suddenly empty. Alfred was gone. What did that mean? I couldn’t seem to wrap my mind around the concept. I withdrew from Dracula’s embrace and put my shoes on before walking numbly back into the house.

The two men followed mutely in my wake until we reached the sitting room where Alek stood trying not to drip on the floor.

“Oh, Alek, I’m sorry. Do you need a towel?”

“That would be preferable,” he answered with a sarcastic smile.

While Luther helped him bring in the two bags from his motorcycle and park it in the garage, I fetched them both a towel.

As they walked back in, I pulled Alek aside.

“I’m sorry for the shit-storm you walked into here. And I’m sorry that I left you waiting in the sitting room. After the way Alfred acted, that had to be awkward.” I took his hand as I said, “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you came riding to my rescue.”

“I’m just keeping a promise I made a long time ago to an old man who was concerned about his great, great granddaughter.”

My eyes widened. “You knew Mathias too? How come you never said?”

“You didn’t ask,” he replied with a wink. “Besides, I was afraid you might use your powers on me and have me wearing ladies underwear on my head and doing the cha-cha in frilly pink knickers.”

I laughed and hugged Alek again. “I can’t imagine why you would jump to that conclusion. It makes no sense at all.”

“Voicing my fears I suppose.”

“Would you like some coffee or tea?”

“Tea would be wonderful.” He smiled as I led him to the kitchen.

Alek removed his wet coat and I went to hang it in the laundry room to dry. I walked in to find Luther stripped down to his undies. He jumped when I opened the door.

“Gees don’t do that!”

“What’s wrong with you?” I laughed, tossing him another towel. “You can’t go around naked in my house,” I teased. “You know I’m grateful for the company, but how long will you be staying?”

“Marco wanted me to stay until things settle down with you.” He shrugged. “I’m pretty much here till he says he needs me back. That is, unless you want me to leave.”

“No,” I said quickly. “I like having you here.”

“You just want my body,” he teased as he pulled on a dry pair of jeans.

I walked slowly toward him, hooked one finger in the waist of his jeans and jerked him toward me as I taunted, “I think you’re gorgeous, Luther. But if I wanted your body, I’d have had it by now.”

“Are you so confident?”

“Yessssss.” As I said this I let the very essence of sex flow through my voice and watched Luther quiver. “Get dressed pretty boy, I’m starving.”

Chapter Sixteen

I met Alek coming out of the half bath underneath the stairs as I rounded the corner. He had changed into a pair of jeans and a thin white shirt. It was one of those shirts that are meant to be worn untucked, with ruffles around the collar which he had left open. There were no ruffles around the sleeves as with Dracula, but it was no less appealing. I had to say, Alek looked good for a sixty year old wizard.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

“Ravenous,” he said, smiling.

“Come on, the water should be hot by now. You can have some tea while I decide what’s for dinner.”

He seated himself at the table beside Dracula while I started looking through the cabinets. I still loved Italian food, even without Alfred around to cook it, and I had a craving for angel hair pasta and shrimp.

“Do you like spice?” I asked Alek.

“I adore it,” he replied with a smile as I handed him a tea cup.

“Good, we’ll be having Gamberi del Diavolo, tonight.”

“Shrimp of the Devil.” Dracula smiled. “You do live life dangerously.”

“Do you mind us eating in front of you?” I asked. “It feels sort of awkward to not offer you some.”

“It is all right. I got used to things like that a long time ago. If it makes you feel better, I lost my taste for food long before you were born.”

“Don’t you miss anything?” I asked.

“Chocolate,” he said with a wink. “Actually, I was thinking that if you wish me to stay longer, I might go and get some of my things while you have dinner tonight.”

“Oh, all right. I’d forgotten you have a place only an hour away.”

“Would you like me to get the wine before I go?”

“That would be great. It’s in the dungeon.”

Dracula left to get the wine while I placed the shrimp in a bowl of cold water and added some sugar and salt. There are many ways to prepare the dish. I preferred to soak the shrimp first, but it wasn’t necessary.

“You keep wine in the dungeon?” Alek asked.

“It seemed the ideal place.” I shrugged.

Dracula had just reentered the room with a nice white Zinfandel, when I heard Luther opening the front door. By this time Alek was dipping a bag of Earl Grey tea into a cup of boiling water and reclined casually at my table with one bare foot tucked underneath him.

Kat walked in and immediately blurted out, “I leave you alone for a few hours and here I find a case of blatant tea bagging in your kitchen.”

Alek threw back his head and laughed while Dracula bit his lip and shook his head. The expression was adorable on an ancient and supposedly evil vampire.

“Alek, this is my friend Kathryn Roberts. Kat, this is Alek. I believe you’ve met Dracula.”

The vampire bowed gracefully, and Kat took a seat at the table, probably to keep from falling. She shook hands with Alek while I commented, “I’m not sure where to put you.”

“Excuse me?” Alek laughed.

“Well, Luther’s in the guest room, Dracula’s in the dungeon, and it just seems wrong to put someone in Alfred’s room.”

“I was thinking that since your dungeon is large, and it would appear your friend spends more time upstairs than he does below,” he raised an eyebrow as if challenging me to say otherwise, “perhaps we can share the dungeon. If you will have me, I’d like to stay for a while and it would be ideal for my equipment.”

“You can stay as long as you like.” I looked to Dracula and he nodded. “What will you do while you’re here? I mean, what about your theatre?”

“I’ve left things in the hands of my capable assistant. This will be his big break. Besides, I can still write plays here, which is truly my first love.”

“You are in theatre?” Dracula asked.

Alek nodded.

“I would like to discuss some things with you later if you do not mind?”

“Certainly,” Alek said as he began to sip his tea.

“Now, if you will excuse me.” The vampire leaned in close as he handed me the wine and whispered, “I will be back in time for bed.” I shivered as his voice seemed to curl around me like a lover’s arms. I turned around, still not touching him, but it was hard to ignore how good he smelled. He smelled like chocolate tastes.

“Do you need to borrow a car?” I asked breathlessly.

“Just leave your balcony door open,” he said with a wink.

Kat sighed loudly as Dracula exited the room with a swish of his long robe.

“Ah, melodrama,” sighed Alek. “What do you want to bet he’s been in theatre at some point too?”

“I’d bet my ass,” Kat mumbled.

“If I thought you were serious, I might have a go,” Alek teased.

“Oh.” Kat blushed. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“Well,” I said, “the night is young, and the shrimp need to sit for thirty minutes. What say we open the wine? You will be staying for dinner, won’t you?” I asked Kat.

Since there wasn’t enough room for everyone at the kitchen table, we moved to the sunroom. Alek and I sat on the sofa with our backs turned to the large glass wall overlooking the woods, while Kat and Luther sat in chairs on opposite ends of the long coffee table. We had all just poured ourselves a glass of wine when Alek commented conversationally, “I’ve found it to be very difficult for lycanthropes to become intoxicated.” He flicked his wrist over my glass. “Now try it.” I took a sip while he did the same to Luther’s glass.

Luther took a large gulp and said, “It’s stronger, but it tastes the same. How’d you do that?”

“PFM,” Alek explained, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Luther looked confused. “Pure fucking magic,” he elaborated with a smile.

At least forty minutes later we were all well on our way to being drunk when I asked Alek, “How exactly did you get here? And don’t say PFM.”

He put his arm around me as he said, “My darling, I knew you were in trouble and I came running. Of course the shining armor was too difficult to run in, so it had to be left behind.”

“I thought you said it would rust?” I teased.

Kat laughed and poured herself another glass while he said, “Well, there’s that. I thought it would be rude to teleport into your house, so I took the first flight I could find. The closest airport is at least an hour from here, however, something that I did years ago suddenly made sense.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“I bought that motorcycle,” he said, pointing through the glass wall toward the garage, “and put it in storage near the airport.”

“Why?” Kat asked.

“Because I felt that I should.”

“A man who listens to his feelings, are you gay?” As soon as Kat said this, Luther launched into his fears of being gay because he had found the thought of Dracula’s bite appealing. I took this as my cue to start cooking. Alek soon followed.

I began warming some extra virgin olive oil in a large sauce pan and adding garlic, oregano, and red pepper flakes.

“I like your friends,” Alek said, smiling as he propped his back against the counter beside me. “Are you planning to molest the vampire again when he returns?”

“No.” I snickered as I added a can of stewed tomatoes.

“But he is spending the night with you?”

“That’s right, and I’m not having sex with him. Is there any particular reason for this line of questioning?”

“I might be a little jealous,” Alek said with a casual tone while he emptied his glass.

“Or, you might be a little drunk,” I teased.

We had dinner in the sunroom around the coffee table with another bottle of wine, which Alek was kind enough to keep spiked. By the time Dracula returned we were dancing around trying to do the Hookie Jookie. All of the sudden, Alek threw a spoon at Luther and yelled, “Oh come off it, you’re not gay! Here,” he said impatiently and put Luther’s hand on Kat’s chest. “Does that appeal to you?”

“Umm,” Luther said awkwardly.

“There, you see? Not gay.”

Luther removed his hand quickly, apparently afraid of the look Kat had given him.

“Well, I have missed all the fun,” Dracula’s soft sexy voice called from the doorway.

I looked up and my heart stopped. He was wearing black slacks which appeared to be made of thin comfortable looking cotton. The tunic style shirt he wore matched the deep green of his eyes, making them appear to glow. The waves of his dark hair fell over the tops of his shoulders where it contrasted well with the tunic. The shirt hung open in a deep vee to reveal part of his chest. Had I really said I didn’t plan to molest him? Surely I was mistaken.

He flowed into the room with a casual elegance I had begun to admire.

“I got my fill of reggae at The Dread Moon,” he said as he looked through the CD’s we’d brought down from my room. My heart beat faster as he paused for a moment on the music we’d listened to only the night before. Flashes of his naked body appeared before my eyes and I had to sit down.

Butterflies assaulted my already battered heart when he started to play the exact song we had referenced earlier when discussing his “whip appeal.” It was one of my all-time favorite R&B songs.

“I do not believe we finished our discussion.” He smiled as he held his hand out to me.

Dracula had slipped off his shoes by the door, he had nice feet. It suited him to be standing there in my sunroom, with the storm billowing past the glass windows, barefoot and sexy. Luther snorted loudly in protest and Dracula said softly, “Indulge me for a moment.”

I took his hand and we danced while Kat excused herself to the bathroom, Luther went into the kitchen, and Alek helped himself to another glass of wine. Even without the shoes, Dracula was tall, and I only reached his chest. He held me close and I noticed he once again smelled of expensive cologne. Muscles which had previously been still began to clench simply from his nearness.

“It is all right,” he said soothingly. “You can get back to me.”

I wasn’t sure how he meant that, but it was comforting.

By the end of the night, I’d taught Kat and Luther the thriller while Dracula and Alek, who already knew the dance, had a good laugh. Kat passed out in the sunroom while Luther fell asleep on the sofa in the sitting room, and Alek seemed to be asleep in a chair by the fireplace.

“Alone at last,” the vampire whispered softly.

In the few moments it took us to walk upstairs, I thought my heart would leap through my chest. At the very least it had made its way into my throat. I watched as he checked to be sure all the doors and windows were locked while I changed into my pjs. Three large leather bags sat in front of the balcony, and I found I rather liked the idea of his things being in my room.

He drew the curtains closed as he said, “The sun will be out tomorrow.”

He looked better than I could put into words as he stretched back against my pillows and said, “How about a bedtime story?”

That was probably the best suggestion I had heard all day. No one had read to me since I was little. I selected a large book of fairy tales from the shelf and curled up next to him, placing my head more on his stomach than his chest. I wrapped myself around him and sighed as he flipped through the pages. We were just getting into The Sleeping Beauty when someone knocked at the door.

“What is it?” I asked.

The door opened slowly. Luther stood there looking depressed as he whined, “The wizard snores.”

“Come on,” I said, yawning. “I hope you like fairy tales.”

I curled back up against Dracula and Luther snuggled against my back. I could tell by his breathing that Luther was asleep almost instantly. Dracula explained to me quietly, “I think he feels safer to be near you.”

“That’s sweet, but why?”

“Are you not the alpha female of his pack?”

“Not exactly.”

“But you are the next in line?” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Yes,” I sighed as I snuggled closer against his side.

In a way what he said made a lot of sense. It did seem strangely normal for Luther to be sleeping with me. Once again, I was afraid of becoming more like a werewolf, but I seemed to have little choice in the matter. Besides, I’d never really liked sleeping alone. Dracula continued his story, and I think I fell asleep before Beauty woke up.

My dream began with me standing in the woods. The dark stranger from my dreams stood before me, and his face was clear. He began telling me about a beautiful rose. There was a large oak tree farther in the woods. This rose was growing behind it. He said he’d never seen anything like it.

“It is beautiful,” he said. “You will not believe it. The rose is growing all over everything.”

When I asked exactly where it was, he told me. As he described it, I realized I had planted the rose, and then forgotten about it. While he spoke I got a picture of the rose in my mind. I even remembered telling my father about how well it was growing. I couldn’t believe I had forgotten it. I saw the rose only inches from the vine reaching the road. It was beautiful. It seemed to have grown very rapidly. All the leaves I saw appeared to be new growth.

This picture in my mind became clearer as he described the scene. I never actually saw the rose in person. I remembered it being the most beautiful color, a color I cannot describe. Though it was rich and deep, I cannot say for certain if it was red or pink. It was love. If I had to give it a name, the rose was the color of love, and it surrounded and covered all. I could see it clearly, filled with blooms. He took me to see the rose, but I don’t remember walking there. My train of thought seemed to shift before I physically saw it, but I felt the rose before awakening.

*****

The bedroom door banged open and my first thought was I’d forgotten to lock it behind Luther.

“I don’t believe you!” Kat screeched. Luther and I both jumped, but it was still a bit early for Dracula. “You’ve got a wizard downstairs, who is hot by the way, and you didn’t call me, and you’re up here sleeping between a werewolf and a vampire, and Marco’s at the door.”

“What?”

“Marco, he’s waiting for you on the porch.”

The moment I had dreaded since I’d first brought Dracula home had finally arrived. I thought I might be sick before I could put on my bedroom shoes and make it down the stairs. Even though it was nearly ten o’clock, Alek was still snoring loudly from the chair by the fire. The situation was not without humor, but I was too afraid to laugh.

When I opened the door and looked at Marco I was not intimidated by the look on his face, I was terrified. As I stepped onto the porch I turned to Kat who was right on my heels.

“Can you give us a minute?” I asked.

“What am I supposed to do, listen to Alek snore?” she grumbled.

“I don’t know, go touch the vampire or something.” I waved my hand at Kat to speed her along.

“Really?” she beamed.

“Sure, just gives us a minute.”

I turned back to Marco and found I couldn’t breathe.

Chapter Seventeen

Marco backed me into the door and pressed his face against my stomach. He sniffed his way up to my throat with a growl as he said, “Who’s been sleeping in your bed besides Luther?”

“Dracula,” I answered.

I decided if he could be man enough to ask the question, I could be woman enough to give a straight answer.

“When you turned me down, I couldn’t control the beast. He was on his way into my room to check on me when I came back in through the balcony.” Marco’s expression looked pained, but I continued before he could stop me. “It was only one night, Marco, but I won’t lie and say I didn’t want it, because I did.”

He growled threateningly and I held up a hand. “Let me finish. I wanted to spend the night with him, and I did. But you know what has been on my mind ever since? I’ve been hoping I haven’t missed my chance with the man who makes my heart beat faster every time he’s near me. The one who makes me want to do stupid things like trust, and share my feelings, and love.” I wiped at a tear and kept going. “The one who makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the world when he looks at me. All I can think is, ‘Fuck me. I hope I haven’t missed my chance with Marco.’”

I watched as his eyes which had blazed amber before faded back to a warm chocolate brown.

“Damn it, Red,” he swore and turned his back on me. “If I had known, I would have—”

“Probably done the same thing,” I interrupted. “You wouldn’t have risked the lives of your wolves for your personal pleasure, and you know it.”

“Not theirs,” he said fiercely as he turned to me, backing me into the door again. “But my own. I would risk all that I am,” he said as he grabbed a handful of my hair and jerked my head to the side, “to erase these marks.” He kissed the bite the vampire had left on my neck as he growled. “You are mine, Red. You have always been,” he said as he looked at me, and his eyes filled with tears, “and you always will be mine.”

He kissed me with a ferocity born of need and depravation and I clung to him. When Marco finally released me I staggered.

“What happens now?” I asked breathlessly.

He took a shuddering breath before he said, “I’d like to date you.” That was a response I hadn’t expected, but I remained silent while he continued. Marco had obviously put some thought into what he was saying. “You’ve given everyone else the chance that should have been mine.”

“How long have you wanted to ask?”

“Since you went with Julius Blight back when you were in training. But it wasn’t appropriate for a twenty-six year old Hunter to ask out the commander’s seventeen year old daughter, so I kept it to myself.” He closed the space between us again and propped a hand on either side of the door, pinning me once more. “Well, I’m not keeping it to myself anymore, Red.” He pointed upstairs suddenly. “As long as he sleeps here, Luther stays.”

“All right.”

“Red,” he said more softly as he nuzzled against my cheek. “Let’s take it slow. After so many years of every woman having your face when I closed my eyes, I want to wait a while before we’re intimate.” He pressed himself against me and I felt with some shock that Marco was very aroused. “When I make love to you, I want you to know it’s me, and not someone else when you close your eyes.”

I didn’t know what to do besides hug him. I had never meant to hurt Marco. After a few moments silence, I asked about the pack and we sat in the swing while he explained. Bade and his followers, who were still split from Marco’s pack, had been unsuccessful in catching Dr. Bill Williams, a madman who had been conducting experiments with werewolf DNA. Dr. Williams had managed to extract the part of the lycanthropy virus that is wolf and replace it with the genetic material of other animals. Apparently, since he had escaped capture last summer he had been attacking people and spreading all sorts of variations of the virus.

In a bizarre turn of events, a werelizard had attacked some members of the pack a few nights ago. They were torn up pretty badly, but they would all recover, seemingly with no ill effects. One member of the band from The Oasis, Creature Comforts, had his leg torn off at the hip. Being a werewolf, he would regenerate, but it would take at least a month, if not longer to regrow such a large appendage.

“What happened to the lizard?” I asked, still a little shocked about what had happened to the band member.

“I killed him,” he answered simply.

“You showed up just in time to save their lives, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he said softly.

Once again, Marco had bigger problems than Bade Garren to worry about. Bade had once been Marco’s second in command. However, sometime in the last year, he had split from the pack and formed his own small group of followers. He disagreed with some of Marco’s policies, like not keeping a harem for himself, and not allowing higher ranking wolves to have slaves. In short, Bade didn’t feel that Marco was tough enough. If Bade ever openly challenged Marco for the position of wolf king, I believed Marco would kill him. But he didn’t want to.

He said they had also found a wereleopard named Judas. Since Judas appeared to be the only one of his kind, Marco had let him join the pack even though he wasn’t a werewolf.

“How does everyone else feel about this?” I asked.

“Some of them don’t like it, but they’ll get over it. All animals seek others of their kind, and Judas has none.”

“And you couldn’t leave him there, could you?”

“No, I couldn’t. He was injured trying to help my wolves. I owed him.”

About that time we were both startled by the sound of a masculine scream followed by Luther’s laughter and an incoherent female voice.

“Would you like to come in?” I snickered.

“Unfortunately, I’ve got some business to attend to.” I walked with him to the top step where he kissed my forehead as he said softly, “I’ll call you.”

My head was still spinning with all that had just happened. When I saw Dracula dash past me and into the hall closet, I realized Marco and I had been talking for at least two hours. It was noon, and Kat had apparently taken my suggestion of touching him to heart.

“What is going on?” I asked.

Luther and Alek had an arm around each other and were laughing to the point of tears. Kat was clawing at the door that Dracula seemed to be holding closed from the inside.

“I woke up just in time to stop your friend from putting her hand down my pants,” Dracula said through the door.

I looked to Kat who blushed and shrugged.

“Could you do something about her please?” He sounded desperate. “I am flattered, really. I would just like to wake up without being molested. You know, this is why I used to sleep in a coffin.”

Luther and Alek gave a collective howl and sat down on the floor. I looked at Kat pleadingly and she said, “Oh, all right. I’ll stop trying to touch him.”

Dracula cracked the door and looked outside. “Promise?” he asked.

“I promise,” Kat sighed.

“Good, because your hands are cold,” he teased.

Kat took off her shoe and threw it at him. He ducked well in advance of the offending accessory and laughed.

“Could you help me find my cloak, please?” He directed this question to me. “I am sure it is in your closet, but there is a nasty shaft of sunlight in my way.”

While we were alone, I used the opportunity to tell Dracula what just happened with Marco. He listened quietly as he threw the cloak over his shoulders with a dramatic flair I would have had to practice.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said as he reclined on my bed once again, “but you do not owe me an explanation.”

“Would you rather I kept it to myself and let you wonder?” I snapped.

“You misunderstand, my angel. I knew the moment we met that there was unfinished business between the two of you. I did not expect you to fall into my arms and forget whatever you had before. However, do not be mistaken, I would love nothing more than to hear the werewolf was so insanely jealous he gave up entirely.” A wicked smile curled his lips and his laugh floated over my skin like a caress. “Have no fear that I will try to steal you away. If the time is right,” he said with a wink, “when the time is right, you will come to me.”

I crossed my arms underneath my breasts and just stared at him for a moment. His smile was contagious, mostly because I knew he was being an ass on purpose. He obviously enjoyed stirring things up. But, I suppose one has to find new ways to amuse oneself over several thousand years.

“It sounds like you’ve got it all worked out. Why not just make an ass of yourself now and take me away to a dark castle somewhere?” I purred sarcastically.

He smiled again as he opened his arms slowly. “What can I say, my angel? You make me want to be a better monster.”

“You’re a sick bastard,” I said, but I moved to hug him anyway.

“Yes,” he agreed. “And to everyone else, I always will be. Running off the werewolf would hurt you, so therefore, I refrain.”

While we lay there for a moment, he told me his meeting with the council was scheduled for next week. However, he would only be gone for a day since his case was well known to the council. I think my uncle Aldan had just hurried things up for him.

“How do you know? When did you have time to talk to anyone?” I asked.

“When I went to my ‘dark castle,’ I also retrieved my old communicator.”

“Do you really have a castle?”

“Worry not, my angel, I shall show you someday,” he said. His words were both a promise and a threat.

When we went back downstairs, I found Alek and Luther arguing over what to fix for lunch while Kat searched frantically for some aspirin. Alek was about an inch shorter than Luther, making him around six-foot-one. Luther used his inch or so height advantage to hold the tea out of Alek’s reach. Dracula pulled up the hood of his long cloak and stood in the corner to avoid the light streaming through the window. He watched the scene for a full minute before saying, “You are a wizard, remember?”

Alek pressed his finger to Luther’s side and he dropped the tea as if he had been hit with a stun gun. I gave Kat the aspirin and told them to shut up and cook something. Alek finished my sentence with, “or you can bloody well starve.”

Luther made BLT’s while I told everyone what Marco had shared with me about the pack.

“Which band member exactly?” Kat asked anxiously.

“The drummer. Why?”

“He hurt Beau?” she asked in a panicked voice.

“He’ll be all right Kat. They got him medical attention in time, he didn’t bleed to death. Now all he’s got to do is regenerate. I never thought I’d say this about anyone, but lucky he’s a werewolf.” I eyed her suspiciously and added, “Beau, huh? On a first name basis are we?”

“What?” She gave me a sly smile. “It’s short for Beauregard. They did some work for me last Halloween, remember?”

“I’ll bet,” Luther teased.

Dracula moved behind me and said softly, “If you will excuse me, I am going down to the dungeon to prepare my statement for the council.”

As he walked past Kat he pressed the tip of his index finger against her throat and whispered, “This should take care of your headache.” Instantly, she fell forward, gripping the table and screaming like a banshee.

“Fuck me,” Luther exclaimed while Alek asked, “Do you make house calls?”

Dracula’s laughter floated through the room as he walked toward the dungeon door. He must have removed the key without anyone noticing.

After lunch, Kat announced she was going home. I followed her onto the porch and told her what happened with Marco, the part I didn’t share with everyone else. I also shared with her Dracula’s reaction. Her eyes sort of glazed over as she said, “See, I knew Marco cared more about you than that. Wow. How romantic. You told him the truth and he still cares. Do you think he gives lessons?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“As for Dracula, I expected as much. There’s more to him than we’ll probably ever figure out. But one thing I do know, he’s got it bad for you. Maybe even worse than Marco, but I doubt it.” She rubbed her neck where he had touched her earlier. “If that’s his idea of revenge, maybe I should piss him off more often.”

“Actually, I think he was hoping to embarrass you by making you have an orgasm in a room full of people.”

“Doesn’t know me very well, does he?” she joked.

After Kat left I remembered Alfred was going to finish moving his things out of the lab that day and I felt sick. When I looked at the clock I realized he was probably already there. He was right beneath me and I couldn’t go down and talk to him. I would never again run down the steps to see what Alfred was doing, or see him smile when I walked into the room. I would never watch the way his hair shined like polished obsidian in the morning light.

Alek’s warm hand on my shoulder brought me back to reality.

“Once Alfred is done, Luther and Dracula have agreed to help me transport my things from London.” He brushed away the tears that seemed to always be present lately as he said, “You look tired.”

“I am,” I said softly. “Not being alone has helped, but I’m still not getting enough rest. It’s almost like when I’m recovering from an injury.”

“That’s because you are,” he said kindly. “A broken heart is one of the most grievous injuries known to mankind, and yet it is the one so many people treat as a flesh wound. Or worse, they simply ignore it.” Alek led me toward the couch as he said, “I can help if you will let me, if you trust me to do so.”

“What do you suggest?”

“I have a potion that will provide you with restful sleep, perhaps the most restful sleep of your life.”

“Are there any side effects?”

He raised one eyebrow, as if considering how much he should tell me before he continued. “None, but you will not dream. The potion prevents dreams and focuses on resting the mind and body.”

“A potion to prevent dreams?”

“Well, I am The Dream Weaver,” he said with a smile. “Will you try it?”

I agreed to try the potion and Alek informed me he had brought some with him. Once again his explanation for this was he felt like he should bring the potion, so he did. Alek suggested I take a bathroom break and rejoin him in the living room when I was ready. Dracula was still in the dungeon, and Luther was cleaning the kitchen.

When I reentered the room I found Alek standing in front of the fireplace. In the few minutes it had taken me to return, he had a blazing fire which added both warmth and atmosphere to the large room. In his right hand was a small purple bottle. It glowed and shimmered in the light as he beckoned me forward.

He put his arm around me and held the potion to the firelight.

“Do you see those flecks of light?”

I nodded.

“Every one of them is an eraser.”

“Eraser?”

I looked up at him and found his brows knit in concentration as he stared at the bottle. Alek looked very serious and very much like a wizard. Wisdom seemed to be etched in every line of his face as he considered the small glistening bottle.

“They are not permanent,” he said at last, his sultry voice making me want to hear more. “The dreams you would have had will eventually surface. But for now, they will erase your dreams.”

I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of my dreams being erased, but at the same time, I didn’t want to have nightmares about Alfred leaving. Alek looked at me closely, and I got the distinct impression that he could read my mind.

“Keep in mind, my dear, that one man’s nightmare is another man’s dream. What would haunt you today, when it surfaces later, will be but a memory.”

“How long will I sleep?”

“Long enough to ease your mind, and give you rest.” As he said this I took a deep breath and fell in love with Alek’s cologne. It didn’t have the rich expensive smell that Dracula’s did, it was softer. The scent was subtle, gently stirring the mind as well as the body. It was at once new and familiar. Maybe it was just the way a sexy wizard was supposed to smell.

Chapter Eighteen

Alek tipped the bottle against my lips to be sure I got the proper amount. I asked whether or not I would go into a comma and he informed me very seriously that he hadn’t given me that much. I wished I hadn’t asked. I reclined comfortably on the sofa while Alek covered my feet with a blanket. He explained that my body temperature would drop lower than normal due to the deep level of relaxation I would attain. I was a little scared, but it sounded wonderful.

Alek took a seat on the coffee table in front of me and said in a dreamy hypnotic voice, “Close your eyes.” A more sensual command had never been uttered. I knew in that moment if Alek Ambrose possessed the voice of seduction, we would all be in serious trouble. There was magic in his voice, though of a different sort. However this was combined with his naturally sexy voice, making his every word seem like a blessing.

“Relax,” he purred. “There is nothing else for you to do.”

His voice seemed to float from one ear to the other as if he hovered over my left shoulder, and then my right. I felt myself begin to float down, as if following the sound of his voice deeper inside myself. Though I knew the room to be well lit from the two large bay windows, I saw only darkness, the softest most velvety darkness. His voice was my guide, taking me to my refuge. When I thought I was as relaxed as possible his voice floated through my mind asking, “Would you like to go deeper?” The answer was yes, yes I would. “Deeper now,” he whispered. His voice was seductively honeyed, like a silken balm to my ears.

“Yes,” my mind echoed. “Yes.”

*****

It was two o’clock the following afternoon before I was aware a world existed outside of Alek’s voice and the solitude of my mind. I blinked a few times at the clock on the mantle to be sure I had read the time correctly. It appeared that rain was in our forecast again, judging by the clouds gathering outside. I stared out the window for several minutes before I sat up and saw Alek dozing peacefully in a chair by the fire. He was wearing another tunic that looked even better on him than the first. This one was a deep shade of midnight blue and devoid of ruffles though the top laces hung open as before. His dark blond hair stuck out at odd angles giving him a rather wild appearance.

I rose slowly and walked over to where he rested. He was slouched down with his hands and ankles crossed. His head was tilted back, and his mouth hung open, but he wasn’t snoring.

“What web are you weaving?” I asked softly.

He sat up straight and a slow smile spread across his lips. “Was I snoring?”

“No.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want to listen to Luther complain anymore. Actually, I only snore when I’m drunk or having an allergy attack.” He stood up and tilted my face so he could look into my eyes. “How do you feel?”

I thought it over a minute before answering, “Fine.” He looked at me for a moment longer, as if searching for some ill effect of the potion. “I love your voice,” I commented with a sigh.

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Why, thank you. But, everyone loves my voice when I’m putting them under.”

I took another deep breath of his cologne as I said, “It’s not so bad now.”

“You flatter me.”

“Thank you for the rest.” As I walked toward the kitchen I looked over my shoulder and said, “And just so you know, I don’t flatter anybody.”

His laughter echoed across the foyer as I started looking for a snack. Alek had tea while I had coffee, and we shared some fruit. He started telling me what had been in the news since I had been asleep. Reports of dead animals were turning up everywhere and several people had been attacked, some at night clubs, others in broad daylight.

“They’re expecting H.A.V.O.C. to take some action,” he said.

“They think this is the work of a werewolf?”

“Well, they wouldn’t really know, would they? Most people don’t have experience with this sort of thing.”

“Shit. I suppose we’ll have to investigate just to prove it isn’t a werewolf. This is all we need. We’ve got to find Dr. Williams. I’m positive it’s him.”

“Yes,” Alek agreed. “From the sound if it, someone should put him down like a rabid dog.” He said this with such a serious expression I was shocked at the sudden change in subject. “You know what else has been in the news?”

I was afraid to ask. “What?”

“Your little interlude yesterday,” he said, twitching his index finger back and forth in the general direction of the front porch.

“My what?”

“You know, when you were talking to the werewolf.” He retrieved a paper from the counter and laid it on the table.

I slid the paper toward me with an overwhelming feeling of dread while Alek asked, “Who would have been here to do such a thing?”

“That fucking bitch!” I yelled as I looked at the photo. There on the front cover of a well-known and widely distributed newspaper was Marco pressing me flat against the front door. To my further embarrassment, I didn’t exactly look like I objected.

“And which fucking bitch would this be?” Alek asked calmly.

I reminded him about Lola. As much as we had talked, her name had come up before during a conversation about “people who chap my ass.”

“Ah,” he sighed, “that fucking bitch.”

“Shit,” I said with feeling. “Do you think Alfred saw this one too?”

“Of course. The Hunters have this paper delivered.”

“How in the hell do they have this paper delivered on a different planet?”

“You push a button, throw the paper on a transporter, and voila! Instant paper.” He shrugged.

“Oh, my God,” I moaned miserably.

Then I decided to read the headline: After openly admitting to having known the new leader of H.A.V.O.C., Lilith Mercury, for some time, Marco Barak is seen here proving how well they get along.

“Oh, my God,” I groaned again as Alek put another paper in front of me. This one had the same picture with a caption that read: Is there such a thing as safe sex with a werewolf? Underneath this was a blurb about another article where a woman claimed to have slept with a werewolf. It was called “Wildman In My Bed.”

“There’s more,” he drawled sarcastically.

The third paper featured a picture of Marco and I sitting in the swing. He had just reached over to take my hand as he was telling me about pack members being attacked. It was an intimate moment, and I hated Lola for stealing it, but not as much as I hated her when I read the caption: Here alpha werewolf Marco Barak is seen quietly courting Lilith Mercury, leader of the new organization H.A.V.O.C. It looks like the only thing she’s hunting these days is a hot werewolf.

“Goddamnit, this is my private life!” I screamed as I flung the paper across the room.

“But you are seeing him, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m seeing him; I’m not fucking him on my front porch. Damn, Lola. I’ll get that bitch if it’s the last thing I do.” I was suddenly reminded of my neighbor, Marcy Johnson’s promise to do the same thing. I needed to call Marcy, but I had some things to take care of first.

After taking several minutes to collect myself, I called Annabel, the vampire who had visited me nearly two weeks ago about finding Dracula. I relayed his message about speaking to the council on their behalf and she thanked me profusely. “Whatever you did to convince him, we will be eternally grateful.”

Before I could stop myself I confessed, “It was my pleasure.”

“I’m sure it was,” she purred before hanging up.

As soon as I hung up with Annabel I began looking through the phone book for Marcy. Marcy Johnson and I weren’t exactly friends. She taught elementary school and I hunted werewolves, we didn’t have loads in common, even if she had bought my cover story of being an artist. Fortunately, even though she was my closest neighbor, Marcy was several acres away. She and I had gotten off on the wrong foot when she moved into the neighborhood last year and immediately started coming on to Alfred. I later found out she had done this on the recommendation of Lola. Out of this situation, Marcy and I had developed an understanding. She had assured me she would get Lola for making her think the worst of me and embarrassing herself. If she was still looking for an opportunity, I was about to give it to her.

I explained to Marcy as briefly as possible what was going on. I told her Alfred had moved back to Italy, since she didn’t know he was from another planet. I also shared with her that I was actually dating Marco Barak, but that was a recent development. Since she wasn’t my friend, Marcy didn’t ask for details, and I was grateful.

She said she wasn’t really surprised to find out I wasn’t an artist, though she had liked my paintings. She told me she hadn’t believed the crap in the papers and had already begun to suspect Lola of spying on me. It so happens that Lola had befriended Marcy before she figured out what kind of person Lola was. However, they hung out long enough for Marcy to know where to find her. She suggested we follow Lola to a club and wait until the right moment to catch her in a compromising position. It was the best idea I could think of too.

*****

So there we sat in the bushes outside a sleazy club on the outskirts of town. It was a little hole in the wall where local riff-raff went to get stinking drunk. Marcy’s frizzy blond hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and for once her makeup didn’t look overdone. A tall biker drove up close to us.

“I’ll be right back,” Marcy whispered. She sprung from the bushes and began talking to the man. I saw her slip him something and return to sit beside me with a satisfied smirk.

“What have you done?” I asked.

“I paid him fifty bucks to get Lola to give him a blow job right in front of these bushes,” she said, laughing.

“You what?” I laughed too. “That’s brilliant, but are you sure it will work?”

Marcy raised one eyebrow. “She’s a skank and he is her type. Besides, she’s probably already drunk by now. Trust me, it won’t take much.”

We sat there for about twenty minutes, both of us huddled in our thick jackets against the cold night air, and in spite of ourselves, huddled close to each other.

“Here they, come,” she whispered.

I handed Marcy the camera and she put a finger to her lips for silence before popping the lens cap off and adjusting the focus. It was all I could do not to laugh. As the scene unfurled before my eyes, I was torn between disgust and morbid curiosity. The man wasn’t bad looking. My heart gave an unpleasant leap when I heard him unzip his pants, and I couldn’t help taking a peek. Marcy looked at me and mouthed, “Holy shit.” Part of me couldn’t help thinking someone needed to show Lola how it’s done, but I kept that to myself.

I had to give Marcy credit, I needed to look away, but she kept taking pictures. Once they were done and we were sure they were out of earshot we both fell back on the ground laughing.

“Well, it was a good night for him, huh? He just got paid fifty bucks to get a blow job,” I laughed.

“How do you know he didn’t give the fifty to her?” Marcy said nastily.

“This will teach that little slut to mess with my private life,” I growled.

“And mine too,” Marcy said as we rose from behind the bushes.

“You could have picked someone uglier,” I said. “It would have been more humiliating.”

“Yeah, but as long as we had to watch, why not pick someone decent looking?” she said with a shrug.

Fortunately, no one saw us. That’s all I needed, reports of me at a sleazy club in the bushes with another woman.

Marcy made sure the pictures were distributed to every paper that had printed the stories about me and then some. The photos that could be shown in public were displayed along with an article about how Lola had been obsessed with me since we were in high school and she hadn’t made the cheerleading squad that I captained. It painted a picture, thanks to Marcy, of a true lunatic who slept around due to low self-esteem. It also helped to discredit anything she had spread about me. When the story was in print two days later, I had a box of chocolates delivered to Lola along with a copy of every paper informing her that if she ever pried in my personal life again, I’d send them “the money shot.”

What I needed now was some good publicity.

*****

True to his promise, Marco called me Wednesday morning.

“Hello, Red,” his rough sexy voice greeted me early that morning. “Did I wake you?”

“Not really. I was dreaming about you anyway.” He laughed and I confessed, “Actually, I couldn’t sleep and I was just making some coffee.”

“I couldn’t sleep with Luther either,” he joked.

Since he was in a good mood, I didn’t point out that Dracula was still sleeping with me, and I had left him and Luther in the bed. It may sound bizarre, but it wasn’t sexual. Dracula was still taking the news about Marco and I dating quite well. His hearing with the council was coming up Friday afternoon, and he’d been spending a lot of time preparing for it. It just seemed natural that he should be with me. He had been a part of my dreams for so long, that despite how it may sound, it wasn’t strange having him in my bed. But more and more I remembered when I was in bed with another man.

Chapter Nineteen

My week last summer with Marco had never been far from my thoughts. Technically we hadn’t had sex, but it was close enough to let me know what he was capable of. In the two days since he’d shown up on my front porch, I hadn’t managed to wrap my mind around the concept that we had agreed to date. With the new laws in effect, it was actually possible for me to date Marco without having to abandon my duties to The Hunters. On the other hand, I wasn’t sure how some of my colleagues would take the news. Though I doubt any of them could react worse than Alfred.

My father had yet to mention the articles which I was sure had made it past his desk by that time. I hoped his silence was just his way of giving me space to work things out. At the very least, I knew my father loved me and would be understanding of whatever happened. He was the one person other than Marco who had never judged me. I honestly didn’t believe he would freak out when I told him at least some of the rumors were true.

“What are you doing after your coffee?” he asked softly.

“I was planning to work out and read a book. After that, I’m meeting Kat for lunch.”

“Can I come over?”

That was a loaded question. Should I have Marco over? Considering some of my house guests, I wasn’t sure that was a good idea. But, as was always the case, I wanted to see him.

“We can still have lunch with Kat,” he said. “Actually, I’ve got some things to take care of today and I’ll be in the area shortly.”

“Where are you now?”

“The Dread Moon. So, what do you say?”

I couldn’t refuse him. “When can you be here?”

“Within the hour. Wear something comfortable, Red, we’re going for a ride,” he said suggestively. Marco hung up before I could respond, but my heart was beating so fast I was afraid he could hear it through the phone.

It was still very early. I left a note for Luther, and changed into jeans and a comfortable baby doll style t-shirt. My mom had gotten it for me a few years ago as a joke. It was black with the golden outline of an apple core with a worm wrapped around it. Underneath this it said, “Rotten to the core.” The weather was still cool. I kept most of my jackets in the coat closet downstairs. I selected a long leather coat that was so worn it appeared more charcoal gray than black. Instead of a regular seam running down each side on the front, there were tan colored laces which ended with the pockets. I was just putting on the coat when I heard a noise outside.

As I stepped out I realized my ears had not deceived me. I’d heard the unmistakable rumble of a Harley Davidson motorcycle. Marco pulled in front of the steps on a Harley Roadster. It was a newer model, with more sleek lines than the classic styles. Yes, the bike was nice, but that wasn’t what had captured my attention. I was more interested in the man walking up my steps. Just the sight of him did things to my heart.

Marco Barak had to be one of the sexiest men to ever draw breath. His faded jeans revealed every curve of his sexy body without being too tight. Marco had looking good in jeans down to an art form. His tight white t-shirt clung to the curves of his chest, revealing his flat stomach in the process. The long coat he wore reached just below his knees and billowed in the cold wind as he walked toward me. The tan leather went well with his dark chestnut hair. The combination of those earthy tones seemed to soften his deep brown eyes as he smiled at me.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

I almost told Marco he should be careful what he asked me, because I wasn’t capable of saying no to him. Instead I answered, “Yes.”

The smile he gave me lit up his eyes before he turned back toward the steps. The wind caught his long coat once again and unfurled it like a cape. His scent drifted back to me with the breeze and I breathed him in like it was my last chance.

Marco straddled the bike with practiced ease and motioned for me to join him. My stomach did an awkward sort of flip flop at the thought of his body being pressed against me. Once I got on, I gripped him with my thighs as I reached around his waist with trembling hands. I laced my fingers together and Marco placed his warm hand over both of mine.

He looked over his shoulder and asked, “Are you cold, Red?”

“No, I’m ok.”

“You’re shaking,” he said softly as he rubbed the backs of my hands with his fingertips. I wasn’t sure how to respond. After a moment he said kindly, “I won’t hurt you, Red. You’re safe with me.”

“Fear has never been the reason I tremble when I’m near you, Marco.” I rose slightly and kissed the side of his face. He was warm beneath my lips, and I could tell by the smoothness of his skin that Marco had just shaved.

“Careful, Red.” His voice sounded calm, but I could tell it took effort. “I might think you’re trying to get into my pants.”

“They’re not my size,” I teased, “but they look good on you.”

His laughter made me feel wonderfully light and happy. It had been a long time since just the nearness of someone made the world seem like a better place.

“Hold on tight,” he said as he started the engine. “I’ll keep you warm.”

He was right about that. In more ways than one, Marco was always hot closer to the full moon. In two weeks the pack would have their usual full moon gathering, except in February, Marco would lead the pack on a hunt in honor of the Hunger Moon. Some of the wolves already hunted together on the full moon, but Marco had always preferred to hunt alone. He had invited me to the gathering once before, and I wondered if he would ask me to go this time. I still didn’t feel like I belonged there. I hadn’t agreed to be his mate, or to help him lead the pack.

The icy wind whipped past us and I pressed myself tighter against his warmth. He smelled of fresh air, and fur, and leather. But underneath that was the familiar smell of Marco. Each werewolf had their own unique though similar scent. The way Marco smelled was as closely tied to my memory as his face.

I noticed we were taking a tour of my property. He slowed down so we could speak comfortably without having to raise our voices. “How have things been going around here?” he asked.

“Are you checking on me?”

“Yes. I think it’s finally safe to say that you are mine to protect.” He touched my hand again and I heard the rest of his thought, “You always were.”

“Things are fine,” I said, making an effort to block my mind reading abilities. Being near Marco made me open up, almost like a flower opening at sunrise. But there were some things that should remain closed. I would let him say what he wanted to, and keep his thoughts to himself.

Almost as soon as I answered him I remembered something Marcy told me a few nights ago. She had found a dead deer not far from her house recently. I shared the story with Marco and he was quiet for several minutes.

“My wolves know better than to hunt here,” he said finally.

“And why is that?”

He looked over his shoulder again, as he growled sexily, “Because I’m The Big Bad Wolf, and this is my territory.”

“Well, you better put your sheep suit on if we’re going to have lunch with Kat.”

He laughed at my reference to the song he had dedicated to me last Halloween, Hey there Little Red Riding Hood, by Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs. However, the conversation remained fairly serious as we both discussed our theories as to who was behind the recent attacks on both humans and animals. If any of his pack members ever found Dr. Williams, they had orders to kill him. That being said, they had also been told not to act alone. No one was sure exactly what he was capable of and Marco didn’t want anyone to risk their life foolishly.

“That includes you,” he said. “As a matter of fact, especially you.”

“If I get word of where he is, I’ll call for backup,” I promised.

“If you can’t get me, call Luther,” he said. “He’ll either know where to reach me, or come himself. But call me first, Red.”

I assured him I would. After a minute’s pause he asked if Marcy would mind us looking over her place too. I didn’t see why she would, considering there was some sort of monster on the loose, so we headed in that direction.

Marcy didn’t mind, but what I didn’t know was, school was out that day. She was standing on her front porch in a pink bathrobe that went well with her powder blue pjs and fluffy pink slippers. We stopped in front of her steps and she stared for a minute before plastering a smile on her face.

“Marcy, this is Marco Barak,” I said. “Marco, this is my neighbor Marcy Johnson.”

She smoothed down her bushy hair before offering him her hand. “Yes, I remember you from the papers,” she said. “It’s a pleasure.”

“And I believe that was your handiwork in today’s paper.”

He smiled and Marcy practically beamed. “Did you like that? It was both of us really,” she said, gesturing toward me.

“How did you know?” I asked, because I hadn’t gotten around to telling him yet.

“Luther told me.” He winked.

I had a sudden vision of Luther sneaking around corners with the phone to make regular reports to Marco. No wonder he said Luther would know where to reach him. Even with Luther staying with me at the moment, he knew more about where to find Marco than I did.

“You two watched the whole thing, huh?” He turned his wolfish grin on both of us and Marcy giggled. “I heard you have an animal problem?” he asked her.

Marcy blushed, revealing what she was thinking before she hit upon what he had actually meant. “You mean the deer?”

“Yes. Do you mind if I have a look around?”

“No, go right ahead.” She motioned toward the house.

Marco’s long coat billowed around him as he walked around the corner of the house. Marcy immediately turned to me and hissed, “I hate you.” But she was smiling.

“I didn’t know you’d be sitting down here in all your frumpy school teacher glory when we drove up,” I taunted.

“Frumpy? You bitch.” She shook her head. “So, was this his idea or yours?”

“His, but I was worried, that’s why I told him.”

“You’d really care if I got attacked by a wild animal?”

“Unfortunately, yeah.” I smirked. “You’re growing on me.”

“You too,” she said and nodded at me, “like a damn fungus.” As Marco walked back around the house, she asked, “So, do you have an animal problem too?”

“You’re looking at him.”

Marcy giggled again as Marco came closer.

“You should be fine,” he said. “From the look of things, whatever killed the deer was just passing through.”

“How can you tell?” she asked.

“A wolf knows these things.” He winked. I elbowed his ribs and he elaborated, “The animal that did this didn’t leave anything behind to mark its territory.”

“So what, it just stopped for a snack?”

“Most likely. But, if you don’t mind, I’ll have some of my wolves keep a check on the area.”

“I don’t mind,” Marcy said, smiling.

After another vicious glare toward me, Marcy walked back up on the porch and waved us goodbye. We set off toward Kat’s shop with time to spare, so we decided to take our time. It was a crisp beautiful day. The sky sparkled a soft clear blue and leaves were still falling. I loved it when fall sort of hung over the way it had this year. As we drove leisurely down an old dirt road Marco asked, “You will have dinner with me this weekend, won’t you?”

“And why would I want to do that?” I teased.

“It’s Valentine’s weekend, Red, you can’t deny me.”

He didn’t know how close he was to the truth. “Actually, Valentine’s Day is next Tuesday.”

“But who wants to go out on a Tuesday night?”

“What did you have in mind?”

He stopped at the end of the road and looked over his shoulder. “Something intimate and isolated.” He smiled wickedly.

“I thought you wanted to take things slow?”

“Keep your mind out of my pants, Red. I am capable of romance.”

I smiled at him and tried to look doubtful.

“Why don’t I pick you up around five thirty on Friday?” Marco looked like he’d forgotten a dentist appointment as he added, “I just remembered. There are plans for a big bash down at The Dread Moon. We’ll have to make an appearance.”

“That’s all right,” I said as I brushed a strand of dark silken hair from his eyes. “I don’t mind being seen with you.”

His smile was worth all the bullshit I had suffered to bring me to that point. All the torment of the past few weeks melted away with that smile. At the same time, it broke my heart. I swung a leg over the bike and made sure we were the only ones around. Marco switched off and turned on the seat to face me.

“What’s wrong, Red?”

“Marco, I’m so sorry,” I said, and put my arms around him. As I looked into his eyes I could tell he didn’t understand what I was apologizing for. I ran my fingers through his hair and said, “I should have taken your advice and gone straight to the kitchen Saturday night, or killed a rabbit or something. But I didn’t, I went back to my bedroom, and—”

“It’s all right, Red,” he said softly.

“No, it isn’t. I won’t deny that I care what happens to him, but I—” I hesitated, before I said too much. “It should have been you,” I said. “I know I wasn’t in my right mind that night, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t know what I was saying to you. I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you. I’ve never stopped wanting you, and I’m sorry I didn’t act sooner. I’m sorry it took me so long to see what was in front of me. I’m sorry for all the nights I could have touched you, for all the times I could have looked into these eyes and saw what I see now.” I rubbed my fingertip across his lips as I said, “I’m sorry for everything these lips have touched before they found their way to mine.” Then I did something I thought I would never do. I kissed Marco with the thrilling knowledge that he was mine.

He pulled me against him, and we were lost in the moment. The heat of his body seemed to burn me through our thin shirts as Marco ran his arms around me underneath the jacket. I kissed him with a passionate tenderness I didn’t know I was capable of. I had never felt this way before. I didn’t just want to touch Marco, or to be with him, I wanted to be his. No man had ever made me want to sacrifice my independence. I was my own woman, and no one could ever change that. But I wanted to be his woman. I took all of my emotions and put them into that kiss. I felt the desire flow from my lips to his and Marco pulled back with a gasp.

“I always knew you cared,” he said breathlessly.

“I never said I cared.” I smiled. But I knew the truth was in my eyes. I never could lie to Marco. He kissed me again and a small helpless cry escaped my lips. He growled in response and tightened his grip around my waist, reminding me forcefully that I wasn’t dealing with an ordinary man.

Chapter Twenty

Before I knew what had happened, Marco was on his feet and standing between me and something hissing in the woods. I was still dazed from his kiss and shook my head in order to clear my thoughts.

“What is it?” I asked, watching him sniff the air.

“It’s not a werewolf. Show yourself,” he growled. This was unmistakably a command, and Marco’s voice said he was used to giving orders. Marco slipped his coat off, but his eyes never left the tree line just in front of us. I heard a cracking noise and looked down to see the bones in his hands lengthening and reforming into massive claws.

“I always knew you were trash,” a distorted but recognizable voice hissed from just beyond the trees. It was Alex Belcher, dean of the department Richard worked for.

Dr. Richard Stacey and I had been friends since I rescued him several years ago. One of his colleagues, Dr. David Kane, was a new werewolf at the time and had wolfed out on him in a bar. Fortunately, all Richard got out of the incident was a broken nose.

Richard often discussed office politics with me when he needed to vent. Most of his complaints centered around two people, and one of them had just called me trash. Alex was in close with Dr. Williams, though I hadn’t previously thought to associate him with what had been going on.

“What are you doing here, Alex?”

“You know him?” Marco growled. For a split second Marco’s eyes darted toward me and Alex sprang from the trees.

I screamed in spite of myself. He was naked and his skin was a scaly reptilian green. His chest and inner thighs were a slightly lighter shade, though still definitely not human. His face was elongated and he had golden snake eyes with slits for pupils. His nose was nonexistent, only nostrils remained on his snake-like face.

I ducked behind Marco as his claws penetrated Alex’s side and he flung him over the bike into the road. Marco stalked toward the fallen snakeman, might and menace etched in every line of his body. I felt a wave of power ripple across my skin and knew I was, for the very first time, getting a taste of what Marco was capable of. I knew he was powerful, but I had never felt power like this before. The sensation was so intense I thought my skin would crawl off my body.

The snakeman was on his feet again and took a swing at Marco with claws of his own. Marco ducked the blow and kicked him in the chest. The reptile went flying and landed on his face in the dirt.

“Who are you, and how dare you talk to Lilith that way?” Marco’s voice was frightening. Though all but his hands still looked human, I could hear the change in his voice.

“He works with Richard,” I explained, but still kept my distance.

Marco and Richard had never actually met, but they knew each other through me.

“Yesss, that’s right,” he panted. “I know her precious Richard. If it weren’t for him, Mallory would still be alive.”

I killed Mallory Monroe last August when she’d made the mistake of kidnapping my friend Richard Stacey. Richard was like a brother to me and I wasn’t about to leave him to that bitch, not when I could save him. With the help of Bade, who had been on his way to see Dr. Kane, we mopped the floor with Mallory and her bitches.

“Mallory didn’t have a chance,” I said as I stepped from behind the bike, “and neither do you.”

He laughed and blood flowed more freely from the gashes Marco had made in his side. “You expect me to believe you did that to Mallory single-handedly?”

“Oh, I had help,” I said silkily, “but not with Mallory. I beat her to death with a chair, and I enjoyed it.”

He hissed and a long thin tongue darted out of his mouth threateningly.

“That’s right,” I taunted, “I get all tingly just thinking about it.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” he said with a sneer. “I always knew what you were. Richard wasn’t enough for you, so you moved on to the wolf king.”

He had barely finished the sentence before Marco backhanded him so hard I thought for a moment his neck was broken.

“You always knew shit,” I said viciously. My hatred for Alex Belcher was fully renewed. “In the years since I saw you last, I had forgotten how much I hated you.” I moved closer, but Marco made a point to stand between myself and the snakeman. “Here’s a news flash, I never had sex with Richard, you stupid mother—” He dove for me and Marco clotheslined him across the throat.

“Where is Dr. Williams?” Marco growled as he kicked Alex in the ribs so hard he lifted off the ground.

Blood dripped from the corners of Alex’s mouth, but he didn’t speak.

“Where is he?” Marco kicked him again, knocking him another six feet or so down the dirt road.

“You’ll never find him in time,” Alex groaned.

I ran forward. “Never find him in time for what?”

Alex only laughed as Marco approached again.

“We won’t get any answers from him, and taking him some place to torture isn’t practical,” Marco growled.

Alex looked up at me from the ground. “Are you just going to let him kill me?” When I didn’t respond he said, “So, you’re letting the werewolf fight your battles for you?”

“Yes,” I said softly, and turned my back. I heard a horrible crunching noise and didn’t dare turn around. There were scraping noises, and I knew Marco was dragging the body off the road.

I heard some limbs crack as he asked, “Do you have your cell phone?”

“Yes.”

“Call Luther, tell him to take care of this.”

I took the phone from my pocket and looked around to see what road we were on. Luther didn’t even tease me about being off with Marco. Once I told him the situation and that I was calling for Marco, he wrote down the directions and hung up.

“If you’ll look in my coat pocket, I should have a handkerchief,” Marco said.

I hadn’t realized he was so close, and jumped at the sound of his voice.

I went back to the bike, and gave him the handkerchief.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, Red.” His voice was soft and normal again.

“You didn’t upset me,” I said as I watched him wipe the blood from his hands that were also normal again. “I’m upset because we had to kill someone that I knew. I didn’t care about him, I didn’t even like him, but I knew him.”

“You knew Mallory too,” he pointed out softly.

“Yeah, and just so you know I didn’t really get off on killing her either. I was trying to provoke Alex into giving up some more details on Dr. Williams.”

“I figured as much.” I heard him put the coat back on, then suddenly his arms were around me, strong and comforting. “You sure you don’t want to rethink the reason you tremble?” he whispered against my ear.

“I’m sure,” I said. “Come on, Kat is waiting.”

“You still feel like eating?”

“Don’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“But, nothing, I’m starving.”

Marco looked both surprised and amused.

“Look, he was a horrible asshole; I guess I had hoped he would come around one of these days, that’s all. Richard always made the effort to get along with him anyways.” I shrugged.

He looked at me seriously. “Are you sure I haven’t—”

“It’s going to take more than that to change the way I look at you, Marco,” I interrupted. “Besides, I knew you were a werewolf when I picked you up.” I winked and his smile thrilled me.

We got back on the bike and started to drive off before he asked, “What makes you think you picked me up?”

When we finally arrived in town, Kat was waiting in front of her shop with her arms crossed, looking angry.

“Well,” she said with a smile, “at least I know why you’re late.”

“Where do you want to eat?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“Admit it, you were off in the woods somewhere fornicating on the back of a motorcycle.”

Without missing a beat Marco replied with a smile, “If that were the case, it would have taken longer. Now, where do you want to eat?”

Kat seemed at a loss for words, but finally suggested a place about thirty minutes out of town. We followed her on the bike and I took the opportunity to grope Marco. My hands were freezing and about halfway to our destination, I ran them underneath his shirt. I felt his sharp intake of breath, but then he relaxed against me. I caressed the rigid muscles of his stomach, tracing the hair that ran down from his chest in a fine line to the top of his jeans. No matter how good a condition you’re in, when you sit bent over on a motorcycle, you’re bound to have a wrinkle or two. Admittedly, they were hard to find on Marco, but I managed to get enough skin between my fingers to pinch.

He laughed and said, “Are you trying to tell me I should order a salad?”

I just laughed. Harassing Marco’s sexy body was the most fun I’d had in a while.

After we sat down and ordered our drinks, Luther called. He asked me first to put the phone on speaker and I informed him we were in the middle of a restaurant. So, I held the phone out slightly and Marco and I pressed our heads together to hear. Luther had taken the snakeman back to what used to be Alfred’s lab and thrown him in the incinerator.

“Good thinking,” Marco answered at the same time I said, “You took that thing in my house?!”

“I didn’t make a mess,” he assured me. “Hey, was he wearing any clothes when you guys saw him?”

“What, you think I stripped him?” Marco asked with a smirk.

“I was just curious,” Luther said. “It’s not like he had anything worth flashing, if you know what I mean.”

“Unfortunately, I do, but I was trying not to think about it.”

Marco laughed at us both before ending the conversation by saying he was starving and if he didn’t eat soon he might grow paws in protest. After overhearing one side of the conversation, Kat was full of questions. I let Marco tell the story while I read the menu. As he spoke I ran my hand absently over his thigh, enjoying the powerful feel of his muscular leg next to mine. I looked up and saw people watching, but I didn’t care. There were worse places to touch someone in public. Besides, it felt good to touch Marco. Having my hands on him felt as natural as breathing, and just as necessary.

He ended up ordering a rare steak and shrimp, Kat had a salad and a margarita, and I had blackened chicken with angel hair pasta.

“I’m so glad I don’t know any of these people,” Kat said finally about the lunatics Richard had worked with. “So, you guys got any big Valentine plans?”

Marco’s smile looked positively sinful as he replied, “I’ve got some things in mind.”

“That sounded like a threat,” she said conspiratorially to me.

“Oh no,” he said slowly, “it’s a promise.”

“So, once you put a beating on his ass, are you planning to come by The Dread Moon?”

Marco threw back his head and laughed. It was a deep sexy sound that was at once completely wicked, and completely masculine.

“What?” Kat said. “It sounds like fun. It’s sort of like a semi-formal rebellion against a traditional Valentine’s Day.”

“How is it a rebellion?” Marco asked.

“Well, because everyone there can’t be part of a couple. How many people does that place hold?”

“Two thousand, if it’s packed to the rafters,” he said, while flagging the waiter down for more tea.

“See, you get two thousand people in there, you get them drunk, you get them dancing, and it’s bound to be fun, even if you’re not with someone.”

“That’s not a rebellion, Kat,” Marco commented kindly. “By the way, Beau said he was glad to see you.”

“Really?” she beamed.

“Oh yeah,” he said with a wink. “Unfortunately, his leg hasn’t regenerated enough for dancing.” He sighed. “I tell you what, the press will be there, so we’ll have to put in an appearance. Why don’t you save a dance for me?”

“Well, you’re a sweet little wolfman, but I don’t need your charity,” she said as she emptied her drink.

“Perhaps I can offer you a ride to an AA meeting then?”

She glared at him.

“Look Kat, either talk to the man, or move on with your life.” We all knew he was talking about Charles. “Beau likes you, why don’t you go see him for Valentine’s Day?”

“I might,” she said dejectedly. “He is kind of cute.”

“I’ve literally had to beat women off of him with a stick before.” Marco grinned. “Somehow I think cute is an understatement.”

I definitely agreed. Beau was somewhere around Marco’s height with light shaggy blond hair, an ass like muffin tins, and beautiful baby blue eyes.

“Maybe you should go, Kat. It couldn’t hurt, and I’m sure Beau is lonely. How did you know where to find the clinic anyway?”

The werewolf population has their own clinic. Even though they could go to a regular hospital, most of them preferred not to for obvious reasons. Many didn’t want others to know what they were, and some were just afraid of receiving poor treatment due to prejudice. The doctor who runs the place is a werewolf, and so is his brother who is a nurse practitioner. But no one knew what they really were either, it would have ruined them. They ran the clinic in a large metal building on the back of several acres of private property.

“Marco told me,” Kat answered.

I looked up to find Marco smiling at me. I never figured him for playing matchmaker, but it was sweet that he wanted to help Kat get over Charles.

Before we left Kat pulled me aside and asked, “If that weirdo hadn’t interrupted, would you have been late because you were fornicating on a motorcycle?”

“I don’t think so.” I laughed. “He said he wanted to take things slow, remember?”

Kat looked at Marco walking ahead of us as if she was still hungry and he was desert. “How slow can you go with that man?”

That was the sixty-four thousand dollar question I contemplated on our drive home. I rested my face against Marco’s back, enjoying the smell of man and leather, as well as the protection his body provided from the wind. I put my cold hands on his stomach again and he only squirmed a little bit. I had almost been lulled to sleep by the nearness of his warmth and the hum of the engine by the time we started up the long gravel driveway in front of my house.

I got to my feet reluctantly and noticed Marco hadn’t switched off the engine.

“I’m sorry, Red, but I’ve got to be going.”

“That’s all right,” I said as I ran my fingers through his hair again. “I’d probably just molest you anyway,” I teased, “and we can’t have someone taking unnecessary liberties with the wolf king, now can we?”

“You can’t take advantage of the willing, Red,” he said with a grin. “But unfortunately, I do have to go.”

“I’ll see you Friday,” I whispered as I leaned in to press a kiss against his soft lips. Marco growled and I trembled once again. Pulling myself away from him was difficult, but I managed.

On my way to the door I noticed Richard’s car parked beside my house. I hadn’t seen Richard for nearly six months, and we’d spoken only briefly. He had been pretty shook up about being abducted by one of his fellow professors who turned out to be a werewolf intent on murdering him to hurt me. The only thing more disturbing than that was she was in cahoots with another professor who had experimented on himself with a strand of the lycanthropy virus he had personally altered to contain snake DNA. Dr. Bill Williams was definitely a sick son of a bitch.

Chapter Twenty-One

As soon as I walked through the door, it was obvious I wasn’t going to have the happy reunion with Richard I had been expecting. Dracula met me at the door with a finger to his lips for silence. He had a very serious expression on his lovely face, and I was suddenly afraid. He pulled me aside, his long cloak flowing over me as he put his arm around my shoulders and led me to the sitting room.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “Has something happened? Where’s Richard?”

“He is in the kitchen with Alek.” He paused and took a deep breath. “He has been telling us about what happened to him last fall.”

“You mean when Mallory and Bill tried to hurt him?”

Dracula gripped my shoulders tightly as he said, “They did hurt him.”

I tried to break free of his hold and run to the kitchen, but he held me tight. “No,” I moaned miserably. “What did they do to him? When did they hurt him? I saved him,” I cried as I beat my fists against Dracula’s chest. “I saved him.”

Once I calmed down enough to be coherent, Dracula took me by the arm and led me into the kitchen. Richard was facing Alek with his back turned to me. My heart hammered in my chest. He looked normal, but when I rounded the table and saw his eyes, Dracula had to support me. Richard looked up at me with the cold yellow eyes of a snake.

“I hate snakes,” he wailed sadly.

I staggered toward Richard, even though my legs were weak with shock and threw my arms around him. He cried like someone had torn his heart out, and I joined him. Several minutes later I sat down beside him and asked what happened. He said Dr. Williams must have injected him with the virus immediately after knocking him unconscious, just before Bade and I had come running through the door.

“We were too late,” I said. My voice sounded far away, like I was watching this happen to someone else’s friend and not mine.

“You saved my life,” he said gently.

“If I had only gotten there sooner …”

“We could drive ourselves crazy with what might have been,” he said. “I’ve been talking to Bade, and he thinks he may be able to help me control the change.”

As I recalled, Bade and Richard seemed to hit it off, but I was a little surprised to find they had been talking to each other.

“How did you even know how to contact him?”

“David told me.”

Dr. David Kane was also a werewolf. He was still part of Marco’s pack, though he had been interested in Bade’s research to develop a pill that would suppress the transformation. That was the business they’d had together the night we tried to save Richard, and that was the reason Marco had kicked David’s ass. David insisted he wasn’t taking sides, he’d merely been interested in the drug. However, he was consorting with someone who openly challenged Marco’s authority as king, and that constituted a beating.

“Where’s Luther?” I asked Alek, who was sitting quietly with his chin propped against his interlaced fingers and listening.

“He’s gone to get Richard a sedative.”

Since Alfred had gone, I didn’t have anything in the house strong enough for a werewolf, or a snakeman. Luther had probably gone to the clinic, and that was a twenty minute drive. Richard’s hands shook badly as he reached for the glass of water Dracula offered him.

“Your friend Luther told me about what happened today. I’m glad he’s dead,” he said with a touch of hiss in his voice.

“Richard, you don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do. That bastard knew what had been done to me, and he taunted me with it at work. He called me into his office before the first full moon to ask how I was feeling. I felt fine. I hadn’t begun to notice any changes yet, so I had no idea what he was talking about. Then he told me. He locked the fucking door and transformed in front of me! He showed me what I could expect in a week or two.” Richard’s voice shook worse than his hands as he said, “Yes, Lilith, I’m glad the son of a bitch is dead.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

“I’m only sorry you didn’t get Dr. Williams too. I want him dead. I want revenge!” he yelled.

“Vengeance is never enough,” Dracula said quietly from the corner where he stood just out of the reach of any sunlight.

“At least you got the opportunity to see if it was enough,” Richard spat.

Dracula touched my shoulder comfortingly as he explained, “I shared with Richard my experience with injustice while we waited for you.”

“The truth of the matter is, there is no revenge for what was done to you,” he said to Richard. “You cannot reclaim your humanity any more than I can raise the dead.”

“But I don’t want to be a monster,” Richard whimpered.

“Then do not be one,” Dracula said forcefully. “Do not become a monster by taking your revenge on this man, I tell you the only thing it will change is you. It will start you on a dark path you do not want to travel.”

“Then what should I do?” he said softly.

“Let us take care of it. I have killed so many, one more will not break my mind. You are not a killer, Richard, and that is not an insult.”

About that time I heard Luther coming through the front door. He hurried into the room and removed a large blue pill from the bottle he was holding.

“What is it?” Richard asked as Luther handed him the medication.

“Werewolf valium. The doctor said it should work on you just the same.”

Richard’s hands shook so badly he could hardly lift the water to his lips. “That’s probably why my eyes are changing so early, I’m cracking up.”

“You’re not cracking up,” Alek said calmly, “you’ve just had a terrible experience.”

“So what about you?” Richard said with a shaky smile. “I don’t see you for a few months and you’re living with a vampire, a werewolf, and a wizard. Not to mention if there’s any truth to the papers, you’re dating Marco Barak.”

“Well, there’s some truth to it.”

I started telling Richard all he had missed in the last six months or so since we’d seen each other in an effort to distract him long enough for the medication to take effect. Once he began to calm down I asked Alek, “Will your sleeping potion work on him?”

“I was just thinking the same thing.”

Alek explained the potion to Richard who was all too eager for some sleep that didn’t include nightmares. Alek saw Richard to the guest room and came back in a few minutes to tell me he was asleep.

“Poor guy,” Luther said. That statement seemed to reflect everyone’s thoughts, because no one could think of anything else to say.

*****

That night I left Dracula working on his presentation in my bedroom while Luther watched television downstairs. Richard would most likely sleep for a few days. I took the opportunity to talk to Alek about something that was on my mind. It was late, and I walked into the kitchen to find him making tea. He was actually wearing a nightshirt. I had read in historical novels about men wearing nightshirts, but I never thought I would actually see one.

The shirt came to just below his knees with a small split on each side. It was a deep blue that looked good with his hair. I also noticed it had those wonderful ruffles around the wrists. As he turned to face me, I saw the ruffles were sewn along the deep vee of the neck line as well. This shirt, like the others Alek wore, had laces, but they were untied.

“Nice legs.” I smiled as I walked toward him.

“Why thank you,” he purred. “If I’d known you would be coming back down, I would have worn a robe.” He looked at me for a moment and took a sip of his tea before asking, “What brings you my way so late?”

“I’ve got a dream I’d like to discuss with you. Actually, I’d like to show it to you, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. It’s been a long time since someone has asked me to have a look at their dreams. Though I know a method that might be better than me reliving your memories. If you’ll be so kind as to accompany me to the dungeon,” he said as he put his arm around me.

We stepped into the long dark passageway and with a wave of his hand Alek lit the dozens of torches along the wall. I hadn’t known the stairway leading to the dungeon could be so well lit.

“Wow,” I said softly.

He smiled and began to explain dream visitation. “It’s a method I haven’t used for several years now, though I’m quite proficient. I’ll guide you through the process and you can invite me into your mind. I much prefer to be invited than to simply force my way in.”

“Have you ever done that before?” I asked as we reached the dungeon door.

“Yes, but only in an emergency. For instance, a few years ago my neighbor’s house was on fire. I knew help would never reach him in time, so I appeared in his dreams and told him to get up because his house was on fire.”

“What happened?”

“Can you believe the fat bastard rolled over?”

I laughed as he lit the second set of torches.

“So, then I go screaming through his mind, Get your fat ass up or you’ll be just as burned as the chicken you ate tonight.”

I laughed again and he said, “That worked. Of course on his way out he saved the cat and was hailed as a hero with remarkable intuition.” He snorted with laughter and I couldn’t help but wonder how many other people would never realize Alek had helped them.

Along one wall previously occupied by only The Iron Maiden, Alek had placed a table covered in various unrecognizable wingdings. Several sinister looking liquids bubbled in containers of different shapes and sizes while little puffs of smoke floated over some other unusual contraptions.

All of the original torture equipment I had kept when I bought the house remained in place and seemed to strangely blend with the new décor. Behind the table along the same wall, hung a magnificent tapestry. It was covered with knights and dragons, castles and unicorns, and other various fantastical scenery. I loved it.

I followed Alek to the large dungeonesque door at the back of the room. The dungeon was at least two thousand square feet, leaving a rather sizable apartment behind the thick door. As Alek opened the heavy door, I saw that the entrance was covered by lush blue drapery. He parted the curtain and beckoned me forward.

The bookshelves that had looked odd and bare along the wall were now filled with numerous leather bound volumes of all kinds. In the opposite corner of this room sat a large oak desk with an elaborate chair that looked more like a throne. A spacious gold rug covered a good portion of the floor and made the room look less bleak and not at all like a dungeon anymore.

We walked through the open doorway into Alek’s bedroom, and I looked around in awe. He flicked his wrist toward the fireplace at the foot of the bed and lit the room. A large four-poster bed sat against the wall. It was covered in rich looking sheets of cerulean blue. The canopy was slightly darker and reminded me of a clear night sky.

“I love what you’ve done with the place,” I said as I looked around. “But, how did you get all of this down here so quickly?”

“PFM,” he teased. “Well, that and the vampire carried most of it. Actually, that impressed me very much.”

“His strength?”

“His power. I knew he had inherited power over the storm, but not even the great Rainmaker could manipulate the very air to rise up and do his bidding.”

I was also impressed to hear that Dracula had levitated Alek’s furniture.

“Come here,” he said as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Unless of course, you’re afraid you cannot keep your hands off of me, in which case, I fully understand.”

I laughed and walked around to the other side, “I’ll take my chances.”

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said while he rummaged in a small nightstand.

Alek reclined on the pillows beside me holding a small silver pouch in his hand.

“I’d like to show you something,” he said as he reached into the bag. I watched him blow the sparkling dust from his hand as the canopy above us came alive with thousands of stars. It looked as if we had opened a window straight into the night sky.

“What is that?” I gasped.

“Stardust,” he said as he settled himself back on the pillows. “Aldan thinks he’s so clever,” he mumbled. “Now then, I want you to close your eyes and remember as completely as possible this dream you would like me to see. Once you get a clear image, think of me. Don’t just see me, feel me. Remember everything about me that makes me who I am to you. Make me as real as I am lying here beside you, and once you’re done, look into my eyes. You will feel a connection, then you may show me your dream.”

“All right.” I closed my eyes and remembered the dream about the beautiful rose I had forgotten I’d planted. Once this was accomplished, I saw Alek standing before me, just as he had been in the kitchen. I saw his disheveled blond hair and the deep blue of his nightshirt. I even imagined the feel of the fabric beneath my hands. I approached him in my mind as I recalled his cologne. The scent was subtle, gently stirring my mind and body, as I was reminded once more of the way a sexy wizard is supposed to smell. Then I saw him turning toward me and the moment I looked into his eyes, I felt as if I was falling. My heart leapt into the pale honey brown eyes, and we were suddenly standing in the woods in my dream.

We watched the rose together as it bloomed, covering everything with its rapid growth. Everything the rose touched was improved by its appearance. Once again, I couldn’t believe I had forgotten about planting it. The magnificent vines stretched before us as I marveled at the deep rich color that I once again could not name. It simply must be the color of love, there was no other explanation for something so vibrant and alive. It hardly seemed a color; it was more of a life force.

When the dream was over, my mind went strangely blank. The next thing I knew Alek was shaking me gently.

“It seems fairly clear to me,” he said with a yawn. “You forgot the seeds of love you planted somewhere along the way.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that you felt something for someone, and you hid it. You hid it so well that even you forgot about it, and now it’s free. This love that you concealed, and even forgot to cultivate has begun to bloom. It consumes all, covering everything in its path.”

“I’m terrified of all-consuming love.”

“I know,” Alek said kindly. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“How can you tell me something like this and then say, ‘don’t worry about it?’”

“Because worrying will do no good. How do you feel?”

“Good.”

“Then don’t worry about it,” he replied sarcastically.

Chapter Twenty-Two

After thanking Alek for his help, I made my way back up the long staircase and through the house. Luther was sleeping soundly on the couch, and I threw a blanket over him on my way upstairs.

When I entered the bedroom, I found Dracula deeply engrossed in a conversation with my father. The holograms produced by the communicators are three dimensional, so I stayed behind the door for a moment before remembering I could enter my bathroom from the hallway. I wasn’t sure how to feel about my father helping Dracula with his presentation to the council. They had obviously been caught plotting together.

The door that opened from the bathroom into the bedroom was closed, so I didn’t have to worry about being overheard as I stripped down for a shower. My head was still spinning from the moments spent alone with Marco, and my stomach was still churning from having to witness someone I knew being killed. All right, so I’d looked away before the final blow, but I could hear well enough to get a good idea what had happened. From the blood on Marco’s hands, I was betting he had ripped Dr. Alex Belcher’s head clean off. The way Richard talked, he deserved it, but it still bothered me. I suppose if I ever reached a point that such things didn’t bother me, I’d be in serious trouble.

After the candles around the room were lit, I breathed deeply of the soothing vanilla fragrance and turned on the shower. Scented candles always seemed to calm my nerves, and so did a good long shower. I wasn’t upset with Marco, he’d done what he had to do. I think I was more upset that I had thought Dr. Belcher wasn’t so bad, and he’d apparently been a monster even before his transformation. The more I thought about it, the more I convinced myself that was why I felt so awful. I was upset to think what Richard had been forced to endure. Richard was a good man, and one of the kindest people I knew. It hurt me to see him reduced to tears. As was often the case when I saw people hurting, I wished I could erase his pain like an unintended mark on a piece of paper. But, I couldn’t do that. I might be able to ease his misery, but I could never reverse what had been done to Richard.

The heat from the shower was already beginning to fog the mirror when I finally stepped underneath the water. No sooner had I done so, than I heard Dracula enter the room. I could hear the silk pajamas sliding down his legs, and knew the moment his long robe fell to the floor. I didn’t turn around when he walked into the shower, but I leaned against him when he held me. Marco would have had a fit if he knew, but there was nothing sexual in his touch, so I didn’t object. The way he held me didn’t feel like I was being unfaithful. Giving me his body, in whatever way I needed, was the only way Dracula knew how to comfort me.

“I am sorry about your Richard,” he said softly, and I felt his embrace tighten.

The kindness in his voice seemed to melt me, and I began to cry. I had cried with Richard earlier, but I’d held back. I still wasn’t used to crying in front of people. That was a fairly recent development within the last year. I turned in his arms, and Dracula leaned forward, so that my face rested against his collar bone. He held me for several minutes before saying, “Jacob says as soon as the council approves my plan, I will be reinstated.”

I sniffed in response.

“I will help you find the man who hurt Richard,” he said softly, but with feeling.

“So, you do still have it in you to protect the innocent,” I commented with a sigh.

“If the innocent are left to defend themselves, they will end up as jaded as me.”

I looked up into his emerald eyes as tendrils of dark wet hair fell forward, framing his face. “But who will defend you?” I asked.

“Death has long been my mistress,” he sighed, “and now, she is my champion.”

“I’m nobody’s champion,” I said as a few involuntary tears slid down my cheek. “I couldn’t even save Richard.”

“Perhaps not,” he said as he pulled back slightly, “but, you have saved me.”

Dracula bent down and pressed a soft kiss against my lips. Once again, the touch was not sexual. He was genuinely thankful, and expressing his thanks the best way he knew how. I knew with that kiss that he cared for me. He would be content to care, even if I never touched him again. The kindness I had shown him had healed some of the pain he had suffered. It made me feel better to know I was good for something, and my mood was lighter as we finished our shower.

After drying off, I slipped on my favorite black robe. As I did so, I happened to brush my hand across Dracula’s shoulder. Without the hot water beating down on us, I realized how cold he was. I looked at him more closely, and saw he was paler than usual.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“I have not fed since the night you and I were together.”

That had been several days, and I felt guilty for starving him. “I’m sorry, I’m not used to living with a vampire. You must be starving.”

“Your blood does sustain me longer than most, but yes, I am starving.”

“Let me feed you,” I said without hesitation.

“No, my angel. What would your lover say?”

“I’m not asking you to have sex with me,” I said reasonably. “You kept me from tearing my heart out, you offered to help Richard, and managed to keep him calm until he could be sedated.” I took a breath before finishing, “And you can’t even eat my cooking, it’s the least I can do.”

He laughed and said, “The werewolf will not be pleased.”

“His name is Marco, and no, he won’t like it. I’ll just explain to him that I couldn’t let you starve.”

“He will most likely say you could have sent me out to find another willing victim, instead of yourself.”

He was probably right. Part of me said it was simply the right thing to do, since he was my guest. But the rest of me knew I was jealous at the thought of him biting some stranger in the night.

“As soon as he sees the bite on your neck, he will be angry,” Dracula continued reasonably. “Then again, we could just put it somewhere he is not likely to see any time soon.” I looked a question at him and he explained. “It takes two days for a lycanthrope to heal a vampire bite. You are close enough to that category that this applies to you.”

“Get to the point,” I prompted.

“You said he wished to take things slow, correct?”

I nodded.

“Then if you will allow me, I can bite your inner thigh.”

I thought it over for a moment before agreeing. “All right,” I said as I locked the door. “But, it wouldn’t do for Luther to walk in on this.”

“As you pointed out, my angel, we are not having sex.”

I recalled the feeling his bite had given me before. “Close enough.”

I put on a pair of black silk panties. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen everything before, but with me dating Marco, I didn’t feel right just sprawling out naked in front of him.

“I understand,” he assured me with a smile, “it is the principle of the thing.”

I wasn’t nervous as I lay back against the silken red sheets. In fact, it wasn’t until Dracula hovered over me that a fine tremor went through my body. He ran a hand through his damp hair and smiled at me reassuringly.

“Do not worry,” he soothed, “I will be gentle.”

He leaned over, as if he was going to kiss me, but stopped just short of our bodies actually touching. It was a very intimate reminder of the night we spent together less than a week ago.

“I could hypnotize you,” he offered, “and you would not feel a thing.”

“No.”

“But it will hurt,” he whispered seductively, brushing his face against mine.

“The pain doesn’t last,” I said.

“Very well,” he said, “but it was never my desire to hurt you.”

He moved slowly over my body, hovering above me only long enough for me to feel his warm breath against my silk panties before he moved to my inner thigh. His long damp hair touched my leg and I shivered. I was trying not to jump, but I was nervous, almost afraid of the pain I knew would soon come. I was feeling foolish about not wanting to be hypnotized, but I wanted to be aware. I wanted to know what was being done to me, and by whom. He began to nibble my inner thigh. He sucked the flesh between his teeth, teasing me, arousing me to the point that I forgot to be afraid. I moaned, and he bit me. The pain was sharp, but before I could cry out it was gone. I could feel his lips gently sucking against my thigh and growled as I gripped the sheets between my fingers. With every pull, I was brought closer to the edge. The third time he drank from me, I came. Orgasm crashed down on me like a wave. My back arched, and though I tried to scream, I had no voice. All I could do was gasp for air. It was as if my life was being drained, and I was being refilled with pleasure. Orgasm after orgasm bowed my spine before he released me.

“I am sorry,” he panted, “I did not mean to take so much.”

My voice was faint as I answered, “Will I live?”

He laughed softly. “Of course, but you will be weak. You might sleep as long as I do this time.”

My eyes were already beginning to lose focus when he reclined beside me and pulled the covers up to my chin.

“I will build a fire,” he assured me as he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “And I will unlock the door. If Luther comes up here before morning, it would not look good for us to be behind locked doors together.”

The mattress moved slightly as he slid back beside me. I could hear the crackling of the fire, and knew I must have drifted off for a few minutes already. I blinked heavily and looked into the beautiful face of the man beside me.

“You look much better,” I whispered.

“Thank you,” he said. He pulled the covers up over my shoulder again, and pulled me against him.

*****

When I awoke the next morning, a storm rumbled outside. I checked the clock and saw I had still overslept, though it was several hours before Dracula would be awake. I felt weak, and I was starving. I staggered a bit as I walked to the closet and slipped on a pair of jeans and a dark blue t-shirt.

As I reached the foot of the stairs, I heard voices coming from the kitchen. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who was hungry. Luther was complaining loudly to Richard that he couldn’t find the sugar, and he hoped everybody liked bacon, because that’s what he was cooking.

“Good morning.” They both jumped at the sound of my voice. “How are you feeling?” I asked Richard. He assured me he was better than the day before.

“Where’s Alek?” Luther asked.

“He’s probably sleeping in, I had him up late last night.” Luther raised an eyebrow and I informed him that I asked Alek’s help interpreting a dream.

“It’s only nine o’clock,” he commented while rummaging in the refrigerator. “I’m surprised you’re awake on a day like this. Marco always says this is sleeping weather.”

“It is,” I agreed. “But I’ve slept too much lately. I needed to get up.”

“There’s no such thing as too much sleep,” Richard said.

I got shakily to my feet and helped Luther with breakfast, mostly because I wanted something besides bacon. After waffles and some fruit, Richard said he was going back home. I told him to call me if he needed to talk. I walked him to the door, and we parted company with our usual hug. I didn’t feel right about Richard leaving, especially not after the way he acted the day before. I was worried about him, but Richard was a grown man, and there wasn’t a hell of a lot I could do about it.

*****

Two days later, I was getting ready for my date with Marco, and noticed the bite marks on my thigh were still visible, though only slightly. With the help of Kat, I had selected a sexy gown for the evening. It was so deeply blue, it was nearly black, and made of silk. The back dipped low, stopping just short of indecent exposure. The neckline was just low enough to reveal a taste of cleavage, and the little straps that held the dress in place were barely visible. I also wore what was in my opinion, one of the neatest inventions in years, a strapless, backless bra. It was literally suctioned to my breasts, and did a remarkable job of keeping everything where it needed to be. I had just slipped on a pair of dark blue heels I’d bought for the occasion when I heard a knock at the door.

I had time for one last glance in the mirror. My short hair was worn in its usual style, with the ends tipped out slightly. It was a bit wild, but seemed to suit me. My makeup was not as conservative as usual. I’d gone heaver on the eyeliner, giving my hazel eyes a smoky appearance that I hoped looked sexy. Dracula had left an hour before for his hearing with the council, and Luther was at club Red, Marco’s other popular establishment which I had been startled to find was named after me. Since I was sure Alek would be in the dungeon, that left Marco waiting for me to open the door.

After grabbing the small matching purse, I hurried down the stairs. I noticed the velvet scarf Kat had insisted was perfect with the dress and snatched it from the back of the sofa on my way out.

I couldn’t have asked for a better view. Marco was leaning in the window of a sleek silver sports car. The black dress pants he wore clung to the curve of his ass like a mold. I was rather disappointed when he stood up, but only until he turned around. His eyes sparkled as he walked toward me with a bouquet of red roses. I never thought I would see anyone who looked better in black than Dracula, but I was wrong. The black suit Marco wore must have been made for him. The top few buttons of his shirt were open, and I had a burning desire to crawl inside that opening to find the man beneath. Sex incarnate walked up my steps and handed me the roses.

“Hello, Red.” His customary greeting seemed to move me more than usual that night. I reached up and ran my fingers through his soft dark hair and pulled him toward me. I kissed him gently, but passionately. I had first met Marco nine years ago, and I couldn’t remember a time during those nine years that I hadn’t wanted him. My heart fluttered as I pulled back to look at the handsome man standing before me. I would probably wake up soon, but that was all right. For now, he was mine.

“Hello, sexy,” I purred, in mock imitation of his greeting to me.

“Are you ready?” he asked with a smile.

Once again, I realized if he asked me to get naked in the frigid night air on my front porch, I couldn’t refuse him. I was afraid of not being able to say no to Marco. But at the same time, I trusted him not to ask for more than I would be willing to give. My resistance was weakening along with my knees, and it was only a matter of time before we crossed one line or another.

I placed my small cold hand inside of his, and was instantly warmed in more ways than one. Just the feel of his hand touched me in places he had never been, including my heart.

“I’m afraid of falling,” I said without thinking.

Fortunately, Marco thought I meant the steps, and offered me his arm for support as we walked to the car.

“I don’t think I’d have much success walking in heels either,” he teased as he helped me with the door.

While he walked to the other side, I took a deep breath and told myself I should be more careful with what I said. We were going to his apartment above club Red for dinner, before coming back to The Dread Moon to make an appearance later in the evening. I listened quietly while Marco told me the latest goings on in the pack and tried to school my heart to beat more slowly. Club Red is a good drive from my house. We were halfway there when Marco took my hand and asked, “Are you all right?” He pressed the back of my hand to his lips. “You’re trembling,” he whispered.

“I’m terrified,” I confessed.

“Don’t be afraid of me, Red.”

“I’m not.” It was true. Marco was not what I was afraid of. “I’m afraid of what I feel every time I’m near you.”

He continued to hold my hand, but refrained from pushing the subject further as we finished our drive. Part of me kept wondering if it was wrong to have such feelings so soon after Alfred’s departure. But then I remembered my feelings toward Marco were not new, I had simply suppressed them in order to move on with my life. But there was no suppressing what I felt when I looked at the man sitting beside me. The full moon was a week away, and Marco’s usual sexy scent was even stronger. I wanted to jump him in the middle of the interstate traffic. I respected his wise decision to take things slowly, but I was beginning to think I wasn’t capable of waiting too long.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The parking lot of club Red was nearly deserted. The only car I recognized was Luther’s. Marco opened my door as he sighed, “Ah, no press.”

“Well, if there’s no press and no pack members to speak of, what exactly are we doing here?”

His laugh was everything you’d expect from the devil as he answered, “We’re having dinner in my apartment.”

Once we were inside, Luther met us at the foot of the stairs to inform Marco that dinner would be served shortly. Marco thanked him and Luther turned away without so much as an obscene gesture. Marco must have threatened him.

Marco placed his hand against the bare skin of my lower back and led the way to his office. A large mahogany desk stood near the back of the room. Behind the desk and along one wall were rows upon rows of law books from both planets, and history books detailing different wars.

To my left sat a large, tan leather sofa with dark suede pillows nearly covering it from view. Against the opposite wall was a matching chair and ottoman with a deep crimson blanket flung across it that reflected in the highly polished wood of the floor. The chair was pulled alongside a black marble fireplace. The last time I had visited Marco’s office, we were in the middle of a scorching summer. But due to the cold that night, a fire blazed in the hearth, casting a haunting light over the room which reflected in his dark eyes.

He walked with a smile to the bookshelf along one wall and removed a copy of Call of the Wild. I watched as he pressed a small indention in the wood and the bookshelf slid to one side to reveal a staircase. The top of the staircase opened directly into Marco’s living room. It was a large loft-style apartment covering nearly the entire space with one expansive room. There was a half-wall divider that separated the kitchen and a massive dungeon-style door at the far end.

The walls had been torn away to display the faded reddish brown brick beneath. The floor was made of old wooden planks that looked well taken care of. I had only seen windows like his in pictures before. They were made of wrought iron and consisted of at least fifty small square panes each. The color scheme matched that of his office. The windows were adorned with lush red, expensive looking drapes, each with a large golden cord to pull them shut. Tall iron candle holders were scattered about including a few candelabras, all holding cream colored candles, whose soft light filled the room. A fireplace stood near the entrance along the same wall as the hearth in his office. This one was not marble, but was made of the same brick as the walls. In front of the fireplace was an empty patch of floor. Here a blanket of deep red velvet had been spread, just out of reach of any sparks that might leap from the fire.

The room was divided by the placement of the furniture into three areas. The space near the fireplace had a long dark leather sofa draped with a cream blanket that looked to be made of fur. Matching cream colored pillows were thrown at odd angles across the leather. In place of a matching chair, there was a massive scattering of faded red and gold pillows. This tied in with the piece along the mantle. There, a faded red peapod shaped basket with black iron accents held a collection of cream, brown, and gold décor balls. Beside this lay several boughs of crooked willow dyed a deep crimson, and layered with pussy willow.

In the far left corner stood a lamp that looked like an odd flower curving over a tan suede chair and ottoman. Like the one downstairs, this chair had a crimson blanket thrown over one arm and draping over part of the floor. With its back turned to the fireplace, and the small reading area sat a blood red love seat with faded gold, almost bronze colored pillows. This area in particular drew my attention as it had during my earlier visit, for on the wall in a large space between the windows hung an enormous painting of me.

On my first visit, Marco had told me that in the year he had kept my great, great grandfather’s journal before delivering it to me, Mathias had told him where to buy the canvas. He had also directed him where to find the proper paints. The canvas was enchanted, and designed to show whoever used it the deepest desires of their heart. Just like last time, I was at a loss for words.

In the portrait, I stood so that only my back and the left side of my face were visible. To my chest I clutched a long crimson piece of material that seemed to flow over the canvas. It draped around me so that my entire back could be seen. My head was tilted slightly downward as if I were in the process of turning back to someone who stood behind me. The painting was so life-like that I expected to see myself finish that turn at any moment. A tall ornately carved candle holder stood on either side adding their soft illumination to the revealing portrait.

Marco’s warm hand against my back brought me to reality. “I managed to persuade your uncle Aldan to enchant a few bottles of wine.” He smiled. “I hope you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” I laughed. My mood seemed somehow lighter at the mention of my recently discovered relative. “It will be nice to get drunk like a normal person.”

I followed Marco to the blanket in front of the fire. I threw the scarf and my purse on the sofa and slipped off my shoes. The dress was long enough that I could sit comfortably without flashing the fact that my underwear also matched. Marco poured us both a glass of chilled red wine, as I stretched my feet toward the fire.

“I have to admit, this beats the hell out of chocolates,” I said with a smile.

The mood was more relaxed than I expected. Even though I was very attracted to Marco, there was no pressure to rip his clothes off in front of the blazing fire. I just enjoyed being with him. From the look on his face, I think he felt the same way about me. Our conversation didn’t really stick to one subject. We discussed trying to get Kat to hook up with everyone from Beau to Jeremiah down at The Dread Moon.

“I can hear him now, ‘dis be one crazy bitch mon,’” Marco said with a laugh.

“That’s mean,” I said, laughing as Luther came up the stairs.

He was carrying a tray of food, and looked every bit the charming waiter. The wonderful smell reminded me I had been too nervous to eat before, and my stomach picked that moment to voice its protest.

“Apparently, you’re right on time,” Marco commented with a smile.

Luther placed the tray on the blanket between us. Marco had been served another rare steak, and it looked as though Luther remembered one of my favorite seafood dishes, garlic shrimp with angel hair pasta. Marco thanked him and asked that he come back when it was time to leave for The Dread Moon. Luther left once more without an obscene gesture. I was beginning to feel snubbed.

Dinner with Marco was one of the most pleasant experiences I’d had in a long time. We laughed and talked, and he made fun of the way I ate pasta. He insisted, “It was meant to be slurped.” However, I usually cut pasta to avoid slurping in public.

After dinner and several glasses of wine, we were both feeling pretty good when Marco moved closer to me and said, “I’d like to kiss you.”

“I’m not stopping you,” I teased.

“Maybe we should sit on the couch,” he suggested. “It would be too easy to tackle you on the floor.”

I laughed more from the wine than his expression. One look told me how serious Marco’s comment was. I flopped down on the couch with a swish of fabric. The moment Marco joined me, his lips seemed to devour mine. What began as a gentle kiss became a tangle of lips, and teeth, and tongue. He began to slide the silk dress farther up my thigh and I stopped him.

“Please,” he begged, “let me touch you.”

He kissed me more gently as his hand roamed up my inner thigh. The warmth of Marco’s hand through the thin lace panties set me on fire, and I arched hungrily against him. He ran two fingers between the soft fabric and my body and began to rub against me. Only moments before I had been cold, even with the fire. Now I was breaking a sweat.

Just when I thought he only meant to tease, Marco slipped one finger inside me. My cry of pleasure was drowned in his kiss. With a thrill I realized this was the first time that any part of Marco had penetrated my body. I wanted more, and I wasn’t the only one.

“Let me taste you,” he whispered against my lips.

I had no objection. If The Big Bad Wolf wanted to eat me, I wasn’t about to stop him. He slid from the couch to a kneeling position in front of me as he flung his jacket onto the floor. Marco placed his hands behind the backs of my knees, and slid me toward him with a hungry growl.

With a hand on either thigh, he slid the dress up to my waist.

“What the hell is this?” he growled.

It took me a moment to understand he had found Dracula’s bite.

“Let me explain,” I stammered.

“Make it fast, Red, my patience is wearing thin.”

“Here.” I grabbed his hand, and let Marco see enough of my memory to understand the situation. I let him see that I hadn’t wanted Dracula to starve, and I had worn panties rather than display myself for him. I also made a point of showing Marco the part of my memory where I clearly said, “I am not asking you to have sex with me.”

He pulled back and growled, “All right, fine. But no more. The next time that bastard is hungry, tell him to go suck on someone else.”

“He’s moving out after the hearing,” I said, trying to calm the beast I had obviously agitated.

“Really?” He seemed to brighten. “Good,” he growled.

Before I had a chance to realize Marco intended to go through with what he had been planning, he snatched the lace panties around my ankles and buried his face between my thighs. He made one tentative lick over my skin before devouring me with a tongue that felt too long to be human.

I screamed as Marco pulled my flesh between his teeth with a growl, licking and sucking places that ached for his attention. I could feel the tension building in every muscle as his uncommonly long tongue slipped inside my pussy. I grabbed a handful of his hair and pushed him harder between my legs as I ground my body against his face. Once it seemed that release was within my grasp I heard a startled cry from the staircase.

I turned to see Luther looking pleased and a little embarrassed. Marco snatched his head from underneath my skirt at the same time he pulled the fabric over my thighs. It was both comical and endearing.

“I’m really sorry,” Luther snickered, “but you said I should come get you when it was time to go.”

“Fine.” Marco sighed dejectedly.

“Well, if we’re gonna go, we’d better beat it, I mean we’d better get going,” Luther laughed.

Marco snarled in his direction and Luther announced as he ran down the stairs, “I’ll have the car waiting out front.”

“I’m sorry,” Marco said softly.

“It’s all right,” I said as I put my heels back on.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“You didn’t,” I laughed. “If anyone else had walked in, yes, I’d be embarrassed. But not Luther. I’ve known him for too long, and know too many stupid things he’s done.”

Marco looked relieved. “To be continued,” he said with a smile as he helped me to my feet.

My knees were still a little weak as I walked through the door at the far end of the apartment to Marco’s bathroom. I admired the large bed on my way through his room and figured I should hurry up before he joined me. If he caught me in the bedroom, we’d never make it to The Dread Moon.

After freshening up and cooling off, I walked out of the bathroom to find Marco waiting by the door with a smile.

“I should probably brush my teeth before going out,” he said with a grin.

I walked back over to the fire to wait for him while I blushed dark enough to match the red velvet blanket.

The ride to the club was surprisingly not tense. I felt closer to Marco after our shared, though interrupted intimacy. The night was clear and bright. We spent most of the time looking out the windows at the sky, while Marco pointed out different star formations.

Our arrival was greeted with flashing cameras and a swarm of reporters who were immediately held back by several buff-looking bodyguards. I must have looked as miserable as I felt at the prospect of facing the media again. Marco squeezed my hand comfortingly and said, “We’ll try to walk fast.”

He traded places with me so that he could get out first. Luckily, the windows were tinted dark enough that no one could see him crawl over me. Once the crowd was secured again behind a velvet rope, he opened the door and put on a happy face for the press.

He extended a hand to me and as soon as I stood up someone shouted, “How does it feel to be the first Hunter to shag a werewolf?”

I laughed, and it was a wicked sound that made the people closest to me shiver. “Who says I’m the first?” I replied smoothly.

“That doesn’t answer the question,” Lola said as she pushed her way to the front of the crowd.

Just looking at her was enough to put my blood pressure through the roof. What was it going to take to make this woman go away? Enough was enough. I’d had more than my fill of trying to act nice just because other people were watching. “Let them watch,” I thought. “Maybe it will discourage the next Lola wannabe.”

What I hadn’t planned on was my thoughts passing to Marco. I was still holding his hand and I could feel him stiffen just before I said, “Well, why don’t you tell us how it feels to be the first person to give a biker a blow job on the front page of the paper?” I taunted.

“She’s right,” someone else yelled. “Who are you to judge?”

The crowd erupted in shouted questions and insults. I managed to hear someone call Lola a slut before Marco called for silence.

“Please,” he said loudly, and the crowd began to calm. “I’m sure none of us enjoys having our private lives on display. My business with Lilith Mercury is my own, and it is intensely private.”

The crowd seemed to take his statement for the threat it was and quieted down for us to enter the building.

*****

After several drinks I noticed Kat on the dance floor. I had seated myself at the bar while Marco made a point to speak to people. Even though Lola had been put in her place, I was livid. How dare that bitch even speak to me? I was watching Kat attempt to look happy while Luther stopped to talk to her. Poor Kat, it was obvious she was acting. Marco’s warm hand on my shoulder made me jump.

“Poor Kat,” he said, echoing my thoughts.

“Yeah, she’s trying.”

Kathryn had improved since her breakup with Charles and seemed to be enjoying herself. Anyone who didn’t know her would think so, but I could tell she still missed him.

“You want me to go hit the bitch?” Wauneta the bartender asked.

“Excuse me?” Marco said as he looked at us both.

“Oh, not Kat,” I laughed. “I was just telling Wauneta about Lola.”

Wauneta was yet another acquaintance I’d made from rescuing someone. I found her last summer in a parking lot surrounded by several men intent on raping her. She was beginning to change when I found her. Though I did most of the work, between the two of us, the men were put in their place: six feet under.

Marco then laughed at the suggestion, but didn’t object.

“If the opportunity ever presents itself.” I smiled sadistically, and Wauneta returned the look with unmistakable relish.

The rest of the evening wasn’t so bad, and my mood improved drastically after dancing with Marco. Overall, I had a really good time. It was one thirty in the morning when I told Marco, I had to get some sleep. He kept another car at the club besides the limo Luther had driven us in. We were attempting to sneak out the back door when we were swarmed once again with reporters. At the front of the group was Lola. As she opened her mouth to speak, a big black fist came flying over my shoulder and busted her right in the mouth.

“How dare you give my boyfriend a blow job you dirty slut!” Wauneta yelled as Luther pretended to restrain her. Marco and I, who knew the biker had nothing to do with the bartender, fought back tears of laughter. We seized the opportunity, and escaped to his car. Once the door closed, we both erupted with laughter.

“I should give her a raise,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to send her a thank you.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Once we arrived at my house, Marco walked me to the door. When he kissed me goodnight, the exhaustion that had filled my body only moments before was replaced with desire.

“I’m exhausted,” I moaned.

“I know,” he said softly. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief as he said, “Get some sleep, Red. We’ll continue this later.”

After watching Marco’s taillights fade into the distance, I went back in the house, and up the stairs. My shoes were left by the door, the dress made it to the foot of the bed, and the suction cup bra was peeled off as I entered the bathroom. Apparently, I’d left my lace panties back at Marco’s apartment. The warm shower seemed to relax me further, and I stumbled when I reached for my towel.

A few minutes later, I staggered into the bedroom, pulled on my favorite pair of silk pjs and went to crawl in the bed. When I turned around, I found Dracula reclining against my pillows, and smiling at me as if he’d just done something wicked. He was still wearing the stunning outfit he had worn to see the council. It was a shame I couldn’t do to him the things that came to mind. He was wearing black dress pants that fit tight enough to show off his physique. The deep red of his shirt, seemed to blaze against the black, and complemented his hair. I also noticed he hadn’t bothered to remove his knee-high boots before stretching himself across my clean sheets.

“How long have you been here?” I asked.

“Long, enough,” he purred. He held out his arms to me, and I snuggled up against him.

“How did it go?”

“Very well, I think.”

“I told Marco you were moving out,” I admitted reluctantly.

“I thought you would. I take it he had no objections?”

“No,” I said with a half-hearted laugh.

“Since I will be leaving tomorrow evening, I wish to give you something. That is, if you can stay awake for a few more minutes?”

I sat up as he removed a piece of what looked like parchment paper from the inside pocket of his long black coat.

“If you ever need to talk to me, you can write me a note.”

He smiled sadly as I reached for the paper. However, he did not immediately release the parchment. He moved to hand it to me, but instead he held my hand for just a moment longer than necessary.

“How does it work exactly?” I asked.

“Whatever you write here,” he began as he took out another piece of paper, “will appear here. Once I have read your message, or you have read mine, you just shake the paper like so,” he said and wiggled the parchment slightly, “and the words will erase themselves, so you can respond. Unless, you do not have much to say, and we can just keep talking for a while on the same page.”

“Okay,” I yawned. “You and I seem to be on the same page a lot, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

He smiled at me while he got up to place the paper on my writing desk. I hated to spend my last night with Dracula sleeping, but I was so tired. I watched him change, and couldn’t help smiling at the fact that our pajamas matched. I scooted out of the way so he could turn down the covers, and hugged back up against him with a sigh.

“I’ll miss having someone to sleep with,” I said as I breathed in his familiar cologne.

“Oh, I do not think you will have a problem convincing your werewolf to take my place.”

I rephrased the comment and said, “It’s you I’ll miss, not just a warm body beside me.”

“Then rest, my angel. I wish for nothing more than to spend my last night watching you sleep.”

His words seemed to pierce my heart. Maybe I was just tired, or maybe I had become more attached to Dracula than I wanted to admit.

*****

Tuesday morning found me in an almost solemn mood. With Luther and Dracula both gone, I felt strangely alone. Of course, I still had Alek, but we didn’t sleep together. He was good company when we spoke, but I still felt like something was missing.

I opened the door, thinking that the fresh cool air would help to wake me up, and found a dozen red roses waiting on my welcome mat. I picked up the card with a smile and read: Don’t get any ideas, Red. This still doesn’t count as conversation. Happy Valentine’s Day, Marco.

I carried them to the table with a smile and wondered if Wauneta had received my thank you note with the chocolates I’d sent. I started making French toast about the time Alek came in the kitchen.

“Well, the werewolf’s a romantic, is he?” he said with a sarcastic smile.

“Shut up, Alek.”

“Yes,” he drawled, “and a Happy Valentine’s Day to you also.”

With that, Alek began to boil water for his morning tea while I went back to cooking. I’d hardly gotten started for the second time before Marco called. He wanted to be sure I’d gotten the roses.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he added, “but I had some sent to Kat from both of us.”

“That’s sweet, thank you.”

What he didn’t tell me until a few minutes later was, they were being personally delivered by Judas, the wereleopard. As it so happens, Judas was in the process of putting himself through college when he was attacked last year by Dr. Williams.

“And what exactly is his day job?” I inquired.

“He’s a stripper,” Marco said quietly, but I could hear the smile in his voice.

“You sent my best friend a stripping wereleopard for Valentine’s Day?” I laughed.

“It’s the thought that counts,” he said sarcastically. “Besides, I didn’t tell him to take anything off.”

We hung up about the time breakfast was ready, and I met Alek’s knowing smile across the table.

“What?”

“You’re in love with him,” he said softly. I couldn’t think of a reply. I kept questioning what I felt for Marco, but the more I was near him, I didn’t have to wonder. “You don’t have to respond,” Alek said kindly. “It’s really none of my business anyway.”

He got up to fix his tea and I tried not to think too much about what he’d just said.

*****

That afternoon I took a nap on the couch and woke up with the strangest feeling. I felt like I should go down to the transporter. It was so bizarre, I didn’t know what else to do. Besides, if I didn’t go, the feeling would bother me the rest of the day. I was halfway down the long staircase before I realized this would be my first trip to the lab since Alfred had moved out. I felt strangely numb as I opened the door and looked around at the bare room. The room was large, and with nothing to obstruct my view, I could see a piece of paper lying on the transporter.

I walked forward and removed the handwritten page from the tiles.

Dear Lilith,

I know that we are not involved, but I cannot get you off of my mind. I have seen, felt, and have knowledge of things that I choose not to forget. Who among your friends knows you more intimately than I? They’ve not seen the side of you that I have. I feel as if a spell has been cast upon me. You must know how much I want you, and in spite of myself, cannot seem to let you go. You don’t have to respond to this letter. I’ve been up all night, and I had to say something.

I apologize, because I’m sure this will catch you off guard. We never have to speak of this lapse of conscience and reason of mine. Not to mention pride. I am often reminded of the “Golden Rule.” You know, do unto others, and all that rot. It has kept me from doing some really stupid things in my life. It has also reminded me how stupid I was after doing others. I cannot change the past. My only defense is stupidity. I never expected to love you.

Thank you, for allowing me to know things that I had no right to ask. Please allow a stupid old fool his jealousy, and if you can, forgive me. You will remain a familiar smile, and a constant fantasy.

Love,

Alfred

As I read the note, I walked over to where his desk used to be, sat down on the floor, and cried. I will miss Alfred until the last breath leaves my body, and this world no longer has to put up with me.

Alek found me with my forehead resting against my knees and took the letter from my hand.

“Fool,” he mumbled as he glanced at the letter before folding it in half.

When I went to wipe my face I realized I had cried until my eyes were swollen.

“Come on,” he said gently, putting an arm around me. “You can’t sit down here in the cold.”

Alek was wearing a long red robe embroidered with gold, and he wrapped it around my shoulders as he hugged me tightly against his side.

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked.

“You can give me a dream.” I sniffed and wiped more tears.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asked.

I put my arm around Alek’s waist as he led me back up the stairs and said, “Come on Mr. Sandman, show me what you’ve got.”

I had been in the lab crying long enough that dusk had fallen by the time I got back upstairs. Alek hesitated at the foot of the stairs, but I pulled him with me to my room.

“Is that all you think I’m good for?” he teased. “Putting you to bed?”

I gave him back his robe, and left him waiting while I changed into a scruffy old pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. I felt like shit, and my appearance probably reflected it. Alek was reclined on top of the covers against the pillows, and pulled back the sheets as I approached. As I looked up I realized he had spread stardust on my ceiling. I was still staring up at the artificial heavens when he asked, “What kind of dream would you like to have?”

“Anything, except my own tonight,” I said sadly. “I’m tired, but I’m afraid to go to sleep,” I confessed.

We went through the same process as before, and I invited Alek into my mind. He appeared with his flowing red robe and took my hand. “Since you do not wish to have your own dreams, with your permission, I will give you one of mine.”

He stretched out his hand, and the scenery began to form around us as if a canvas were being painted by an invisible hand. It took me a moment to recognize the woods surrounding the Council Tower. A young man was leaving the back of the building. He was tall and slender, dressed in black. My heart gave a leap at the sight of a younger version of Alek Ambrose. Alek was still good looking in my opinion, but a few years ago, he may have looked even better. It was night, and we followed him through the dark woods. Here and there a flicker of light could be seen as a swarm of fairies flew past.

There was a glow in the distance, and I knew it was coming from the lake. The lake that resides in the council woods is surrounded by moon flowers. These strange purple blooms only open at night, and give off a soft glow, much like tiny purple lanterns. They surround the lake, making it the ideal place to swim at night. As we moved closer, laughter could be heard, and we slowed our pace, so as not to disturb whoever was there.

As the younger Alek drew closer to the noise, he parted the bushes blocking his view, and we both looked over his shoulder. I had a feeling what I would be witnessing, but nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Julius Blight naked again after all these years. He was on the far side of the lake from where we stood, his beautiful porcelain skin appeared almost luminous in the faint light, and my heart beat faster. I remembered how impressed I had been with his beauty. The scars from his vicious werewolf attack could not be seen from where we were, so there was nothing to mar his perfection. He stretched out his long angelic wings and with very little effort swooped down in front of where I stood.

It was strange to see a younger version of myself standing across the lake. My hair was longer, and in my opinion, I was thinner. I had just slid out of my leather bodysuit and was removing whatever had held back my hair. Like amber fire, the shoulder length mass glowed under the soft light. Julius ran his fingers through my hair and kissed me. I blushed as I remembered how much I had enjoyed that kiss. According to my recollection, nothing more embarrassing happened that night. My scars were also not visible from a distance in the dim light. For the first time, I got to see what I might have been like, had the awful scars and the infection they carried not become a part of my life. I longed for the image I saw to be true, to not be a ruined beauty. I smiled as I watched Julius lounging in the grass with his sketchbook while I stretched out across a large rock. I lay there, smiling and laughing, perched like a mermaid while he brought the image to life on paper.

When we finally started to swim Alek asked me, “I’ve always wondered, how is it that he doesn’t sink?”

I laughed. “Because the oil on his wings keeps them from absorbing the water.”

“Well, that makes sense,” he said as the younger Alek made his way quietly through the trees. “Did you have sex in the lake?” he asked.

“You should have waited around to see,” I teased.

“Now that you have seen one of my favorite dreams, I think it is time for you to sleep.”

“Why is it one of your favorites?”

“Because for an hour I got to watch a beautiful woman who had no idea that she’s beautiful. The Icarum could not have looked more like an angel than you did that night. Now sleep,” he said forcefully, and I did.

*****

After that night, I didn’t have any more trouble sleeping. With Alek’s help, I could finally rest. I hadn’t had time to meditate enough to communicate with Mathias for a few weeks. I felt sick at the thought of explaining to him what had been going on. Then again, he could see the future, so he knew what would happen with Alfred and I long before I did. The son of a bitch could have given me some warning. But he would have considered that screwing with fate, I’m sure. Besides, I wouldn’t trade the happy memories with Alfred for all the warning in the world. My heartbreak would just become another scar that I carried.

*****

Saturday night would bring with it the Hunger Moon of February. Marco was preparing to lead the hunt for the pack on this night, so I wasn’t expecting to hear his voice when I answered the phone late Thursday.

“Can you come down here?” I assumed he was at The Dread Moon.

“Why, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“It’s not me, it’s Richard.”

“Richard?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “He showed up down here a few hours ago. He’s shit drunk, and really depressed.”

“Where is he now? You didn’t leave him alone did you?” Even as I asked the question, I knew Marco wouldn’t have been irresponsible enough to leave a depressed snakeman alone.

I was in the process of looking for something to wear when he answered, “No. Dracula is with him.” The emphasis he placed on the name let me know he wasn’t happy about it. I wasn’t sure what would make Marco tolerate Vlad in his club, and I didn’t think the time was appropriate to ask.

“I’ll be right there.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

As soon as I hung up I snatched the first thing out of the closet that looked like decent club wear. I didn’t want to draw more attention to myself than necessary by not fitting in. The Dread Moon was a little more upscale than the almost goth-punk look club Red had going on. I snatched on a pair of black leather pants and a blood red button up shirt. The shoes that I only stopped at the front door to put on were a sort of short dress boot. I snatched my keys while I yelled to Alek in the kitchen, “I’ve got to go, Richard is at The Dread Moon, and he may need my help!”

It’s a good thing I’m friends with at least one local cop, because I practically stood my car on its head to reach the club. I pulled around back and saw Marco open the door almost as soon as I got out of the car.

“Thanks for calling me,” I said as I hugged him.

Marco was wearing another black suit, and had I been there under different circumstances, I might have suggested we retire to his office. He looked tired and worried, but the smile he gave me seemed to erase most of that.

“It’s good to see you, Red.”

He kissed me softly and I asked, “Are you all right?”

“I’m just tired,” he said. Marco placed his hand in the small of my back and began leading me upstairs. “Aldan has been asking my opinion on the proposals made by the vampires.”

That surprised me. “Wow. Who would have thought a member of the council would ever ask the opinion of a werewolf? My uncle must really like you.”

“He does.” Marco smiled down at me. “Besides, he’s not like wizards used to be. He actually treats people equally. It hasn’t exactly made him popular in some circles, but for the most part, people appreciate what he’s doing. He has a lot of influence over the current president, whose vote is crucial in all of this.”

The recently elected President of the United Continental Terran Federation was Tynan Theron, and he was a djinn. He was the first of his kind to ever be elected to office, and had been relying heavily on the advice of Aldan Medwin. Since wizards and djinns both had powerful magical abilities, the council seemed to get along better with Theron than any of the previous presidents they had served with.

“Actually, I’ve got a meeting with Aldan tomorrow night.”

“The night before the full moon? That doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

“It probably isn’t, but I can control myself better than most. It should be fine. He just wants to be sure that the rights the vampires have proposed will not give them anything that we don’t have. From what I’ve heard so far, they aren’t asking for anything extra. All they really want is to simply be tolerated.”

“Isn’t that what everyone wants?” I said sarcastically as we approached the same room I had found Dracula in before.

“Now, before we go in,” Marco said, “Richard is very distraught. I just want you to be prepared.”

He opened the door, and I found Richard sitting at the table the drunken Jamaican werewolves had previously occupied. Dracula was standing over his shoulder and appeared to be trying to talk some sense into him. Where the lighting had been set to dim the last time I was there, the room was brightly lit on this occasion. Every worried line on Richard’s face seemed to stand out in stark contrast against the dark blue shirt he wore. Normally, Richard looked good in blue, it brought out the color in his blue gray eyes, but not now. His eyes were the cold yellow of a snake once again, and he looked like he’d been crying.

“I ran some tests on myself,” he explained shakily as I sat down across from him. “As you know, the lycanthropy virus lengthens the life span. Well, apparently there’s something in reptilian DNA that lengthens your life even more.” He paused to take another gulp of his drink and drained the glass. “I’ll likely live three hundred years or so with this fucking curse,” he said miserably.

I looked up at Dracula, and he nodded as if to say it was true.

“But, who knows if my calculations are even accurate? I might end up living forever, just because I don’t have the balls to kill myself. I don’t want to live forever, Lilith,” he sobbed.

“Neither do I,” I said softly as I took the glass away from Richard.

“You do remember Mathias’s ability to take on some of the characteristics of his lovers?” Dracula asked me.

“Of course.”

“Well, my angel, after all we have …” He looked to Marco and seemed to reword his statement, “discussed, I am afraid that might be a moot point.”

“Fuck.”

“Yes, that is why it may be a moot point.”

To my surprise, Richard threw back his head and laughed at this, but Marco didn’t look nearly as happy about it. Honestly, I had never considered that sleeping with Dracula might lengthen my life.

“You’re the only person, whose life might be more screwed up than mine,” Richard chuckled. “But I doubt it.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” the vampire drawled sarcastically as he took a seat beside me on the wrap around sofa. As he sat down, I took a good look at him. He was wearing a long black coat, and tight black pants that hugged his lovely thighs. His shiny knee-high boots seemed to set off the ensemble almost as much as the bright red shirt that fit close around his throat, and had no collar. We matched.

“Maybe I should color my hair,” Richard mumbled. “It’s prematurely gray anyhow. Can you imagine living three hundred years with gray hair?” he snorted.

Since he seemed to be calming down somewhat I looked to Marco and asked, “Did you give him anything?”

“A sedative, it’s probably starting to work.”

“Ya shoulda let ‘im ave a smoke wit us mon,” one of the Jamaican’s said from the doorway.

Marco pushed the man back down the hall while Dracula laughed. His voice floated over my skin and I tried to pretend like I didn’t enjoy it. I had missed him, but I wasn’t going to say so, especially not in Marco’s presence.

“I’m not going to encourage someone else to start your bad habit,” Marco said. “And put that thing out while there are still guests downstairs.” Marco didn’t do drugs, and I was surprised he tolerated the behavior in some of his employees. I think it might have been as I favor to Jeremiah. According to Marco, they went way back. If Jeremiah said the other Jamaican werewolves were harmless, then I guess they were. As for the drugs, it wasn’t like they were selling anything.

“What brings you here?” I asked Vlad.

“I came to feed.” Marco glared at him and he added, “On willing victims, of course.”

“On the stoned Jamaican’s again?”

“No,” he laughed. “I got a taste before they started tonight.”

“That sounds dirty,” Richard said.

“Should I take him home?” I asked about Richard.

“Jeremiah said he could stay here tonight,” Marco answered. “He should be all right now.”

I left Richard to chat with the vampire and went downstairs with Marco. “I’m sorry I called you out here for nothing. I didn’t realize he would calm down so easily, but he was asking for you earlier.”

“It’s all right,” I said, placing my hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad you did. I’ve been worried about Richard. Actually, I’m more concerned about him talking to Bade, than anything else.”

Marco and I had already discussed Richard’s strange friendship with Bade Garren, and he didn’t appear to be as concerned as I was.

“I really don’t think Richard would join with him to try to overthrow me as king,” he said. “Besides, for someone like Richard, Bade would probably be a good mentor for learning the change.”

“What do you mean someone like Richard?”

“No offense, but he’s very submissive. I think that’s why he gets along so well with Bade.”

“He’s not gay,” I said almost forcefully in my friend’s defense.

“Gay hasn’t got anything to do with it.” He smiled seductively with these words, and I forgot what I was about to say.

Since there wasn’t an event at the club that night, there were no reporters to be seen. Marco and I had a few slow dances together, before I decided to head back home. He walked me to the back door where I paused to caress his weary face.

“You look so tired,” I whispered.

Marco leaned into my hand and kissed my palm. “I’m exhausted,” he said.

“Don’t worry,” I teased. “I’m not going to molest you.”

His laugh was pleasant, but obviously weakened from his usual rough baritone. Marco kissed my forehead as he purred, “Goodnight, Red.”

As I drove home, the scent of Dracula’s cologne lingered on my shirt, and the feel of Marco’s lips pressed against my forehead lingered in my mind. When I took a deep breath, it felt as if the vampire was still sitting right beside me. But if I closed my eyes, even for a moment, I could still feel Marco’s lips. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

I tried to redirect my train of thought and said a prayer for Richard. I was nearly home by the time I finished.

After giving Alek a brief rundown of what had happened, I went upstairs, and called it a night.

*****

Alek and I were having dinner Friday night when someone began beating frantically at the front door. Dracula planned to visit that night, and was expected any minute, but I’d left my balcony window open for him. Alek motioned for me to stay seated, and he went for the door.

Richard came running in, gasping for breath, and followed closely by Alek.

“What’s the meaning of this?” the wizard asked.

“It’s David,” Richard gasped. His clothes were torn, and he had a cut on his forehead that had he not had the ability to regenerate, might have left a nasty scar. Richard dropped to his knees in the doorway as Dracula appeared behind him. His face was blank and unreadable as he looked down at Richard.

“They’ve taken him,” he panted.

“Who? Richard, what has happened to David?” I pressed.

“Williams,” he gasped, “they took him. I tried, but I wasn’t strong enough.”

“Where did this happen?” I asked.

“University,” he wheezed.

“Richard, did you run all this way?” Alek asked incredulously.

Richard nodded. “I panicked. I didn’t know what else to do, you’ve got to help me. They’ll kill him!” he pleaded.

“Why do they want him?” I asked, still too shocked to be upset by the news.

“Williams is planning to take control of the entire ‘animal population’ as he calls them. He wants to kill someone close to the only two known alphas in the area, so he took David for Bade.”

My heart lurched painfully. “Who else did they take?” I asked.

“They’re going after Luther next.”

“No,” I roared. Before anyone could blink I was on the floor shaking Richard by the shoulders. “Where are they?” I growled. “I’ll kill them.”

“I know,” he said, cringing at the sight of my outburst. “I can take you. I overheard them saying. They’re at an old farm house near where your friend Kat lives.”

“Shit, Marco’s on Terra tonight. He had a meeting with Aldan. He said we shouldn’t take on Dr. Williams alone, but he also said to call Luther if he wasn’t available. We’re fucked!” I yelled, slamming my fist into the table.

“Take me with you,” Dracula said softly as he stepped forward. “I would be glad to help.”

“And me,” Alek said.

“All right.” I sighed, regaining some of my composure.

“You might be able to get Bade,” Richard suggested.

Since I hadn’t seen either Alek or Dracula in action, and could remember vividly Bade’s ability, I thought that might not be a bad idea. However, as I pointed out to Richard, “I wouldn’t even know where to find Bade.”

“I would,” he said as Alek helped him to stand. “He’s at a place not far from here called The Dungeon.”

I cringed at the name, and Dracula smirked as if he knew something I didn’t.

“They won’t let me in,” Richard continued.

“Mason does not let just anyone in,” the vampire said silkily.

“You know him?” Richard asked.

“Yes,” we answered together.

Dracula raised an eyebrow at me and I explained. “It’s nothing personal. I just know who he is.”

Though I was loathed to admit it, I knew Mason. He was a vamp who ran a questionable establishment about a twenty minute drive from my house called The Dungeon. The Dungeon, like its name suggested, was not a place for the faint of heart. It was a hardcore whips and chains kind of operation. I knew Mason, because it was my business to know what creatures other than humans were in my area. I had also received numerous personal invitations to his place of business. It really didn’t surprise me that Bade would be there.

“Well, if you’re going, I suggest you wear vinyl if you’ve got it,” Richard said. “You’ll have a better chance of getting in.”

“I don’t need vinyl to get past Mason,” I growled, though I knew force would not be my best bet either.

“Here,” Dracula said, holding out his hand. “I have a gift for Mason. Give him this for me.”

He touched my hand, and a fire went through my veins. My body shook, and the pleasure that coursed through me nearly brought me to my knees.

“Shit,” I gasped. “How exactly do you know Mason?”

“I made him,” he said simply. “He was one of the men that I accidentally turned on the battlefield years ago.”

“And why would you send him sex?” I asked, still shaken from Dracula’s touch.

“Because that is how he operates. Do not worry,” he assured me with a wink, “we were never lovers.”

Dracula promised to meet us outside the club, and I went upstairs to change. As quickly as possible, I put on my black vinyl catsuit. I’d had another made since my favorite got shredded last summer. I strapped on my numerous blades, laced up my knee-high boots, and set off for The Dungeon with Richard and Alek.

I tried not to let it show, but I was terrified of Mason. It wasn’t his appearance, or any of his abilities that frightened me. I was afraid of the things I wanted to do to him. That was the main reason I had never responded to his invitations: I was afraid I might like it too much.

Chapter Twenty-Six

From the outside, The Dungeon looked like an old abandoned castle, which was odd enough in Florida. My heart began to beat faster, and I tried to tell myself I wasn’t excited about seeing the inside of the building. Alek and Richard agreed to wait in the car, and with as much courage as I could muster, I began walking across the dark parking lot. The front door was massive, and looked almost like a drawbridge covered in iron bars. A slot on the door opened, and a pair of dark eyes peered down at me from much higher up than I had expected.

“What’s your business here?” a deep man’s voice asked.

“My business is pleasure,” I purred, as I switched on my seductive power. “I’ve come to see Mason.”

The door began to open slowly, but almost instantly after I made my request. Apparently, Richard and Alek were hanging out the windows because I heard him ask the wizard incredulously, “How’d she do that?”

As I walked through the door, I was greeted by the sound of goth metal music echoing off the walls. Tall stone columns lined the long hallway, and dim lanterns hung from the ceiling in small bird cages. To my left, stood the enormous bouncer who had answered the door. He seemed to be looking at me in anticipation of my next words.

“Where is Mason?” I said softly.

He closed his eyes and gasped at the same time I looked down the hall, and my question was answered. A very tall, very thin, dark figure was making his way up the hall toward me. He seemed to glide by magic over the floor, but I knew there were feet underneath his long robe. Mason was over six feet tall, and wearing platform boots. When he came to a stop only a few feet away, he towered over me. The black robe he wore was covered in feathers around the collar and lapel. It looked almost like he was wearing a feather boa over a cloak. The robe fell open to reveal his lean toned body, and the tight vinyl pants he was wearing. The pants hung low enough to show the curve of his muscular hip bones, and I tried hard not to stare. His long dark hair blended with the feathers on the robe and made his porcelain skin seem much paler than it was. His eyes were brown, though they appeared black when surrounded by his usual dark eye makeup. Mason was not unattractive by any means, but he was a freak in every sense of the word. He scared the shit out of me.

“Well, well, if it isn’t little red,” he purred as a slow smile curled his lips. Mason’s voice was sexier than I remembered from our one previous meeting. He had a deep voice that always seemed to emerge as a soft, almost hoarse whisper from his cherry red lips.

“I’m not your little red,” I answered, forgetting my powers for a moment.

“Much to my disappointment,” he said as he ran a hand through his long glossy locks. “So, my pet, what can I do for you?”

“I’ve come for Bade. Someone told me he was here.”

“Did they? And why should I let you have him? Bade is one of my best customers.”

I moved forward and fought the urged to scream as I opened his robe. Mason made no move to stop me. I closed my eyes and fought to control my fear as I switched on my power once again. The seductive fire that had now become familiar to me flowed through my veins as I stared up into the eyes of the scariest man I’d ever met, human or otherwise.

“I’ve got something for you,” I said silkily. When he only closed his eyes in response I continued, “A gift from the original.”

“You lie,” he hissed.

Rather than answer with words, I pressed the hand Dracula had touched against the smooth skin of Mason’s stomach. I watched as a look of complete rapture passed over his features, and felt the firm muscles beneath my hand contract.

“Now, where’s Bade?”

“Oh, you’re good,” he purred smoothly. “But I don’t give in so easily.”

“What do you want Mason? Time is short tonight.”

“Are you asking me to name my price?” He smiled wickedly.

“Within reason.”

“Reason is a relative term.” He seemed to consider the situation for a moment. “Let’s just say, you’ll owe me one.” I didn’t like the idea of owing Mason anything, and it must have shown in my expression. “Don’t worry your pretty red head,” he said seductively. “I won’t make it anything unpleasant.” Mason walked around me and placed his hands on my shoulders as he whispered in my ear, “I see the way you look at me.” I glared at him over my shoulder and he laughed. “Don’t let it embarrass you. After all, beauty has always been drawn to the beast.”

“This way,” he announced suddenly and started back down the hall. I followed in his wake and he seemed to slow his long legged stride so I could catch up. I followed Mason through a large room with a high cathedral ceiling that sported a bizarre stained glass dome. The artwork covering the glass made it look like the night sky, with thousands of glittering stars reflecting their light through the large dome and onto the floor. It beat the hell out of a disco ball. There was a large variety of patrons seated about the room, all of them watching the woman on stage. I paused to watch for a moment as the tall blond worked her way expertly up and down the pole while two brunettes danced in cages on either end of the platform. They were all dressed in fishnets and vinyl, and if I had to guess, I’d say they were vampires too.

“This way,” Mason’s sultry voice whispered close to my ear.

I tore my eyes from the scene, and followed him down a hallway lit with torches. We stopped at a door at the end of the long passage. We were far enough away from everyone else that the loud music was only a faint noise in the background.

“I should warn you,” Mason said with a smile, “he may not want to leave.”

He swung the door open and for a minute I didn’t know if I was shocked or aroused. Bade was restrained by silver chains on each wrist. These chains attached to the ceiling, leaving anyone shorter to hang in midair, though Bade’s feet touched the floor. He was completely naked, and I must say it was an impressive sight. I had seen Bade naked in his wolfman form before, but never as a human. His back was turned to us, and a leather clad woman stood on either side with a whip. From the mild pink marks on his skin, I could tell they had taken it easy with him.

Mason snapped his fingers, and the women started to leave the room. I stopped one, and held out my hand. Without asking why, she turned over her whip to me, and I stepped into the room. My boots were relatively silent on the cold stone floor, unlike the spiked heels the other women were wearing. I wondered if Bade even knew I was there.

“Sending in reinforcements?” he asked playfully.

I looked back to Mason and held out my hand for him to keep his distance. Bade’s body was a beautiful thing to behold. He had shoulder length hair of the palest gold, and a creamy white complexion. I fought the urge to stroke the lovely muscular dimples along the sides of his ass. Bade was not the sort of man I would ever want to be involved with, but for a moment I wished I could just have my way with him. Since I knew Marco would never forgive me even if I forgave myself, I decided to taunt him a little instead. I cracked the whip viciously across Bade’s back and managed to break the skin, though only slightly. Bade gasped, but didn’t cry out with pain.

“Well,” he said breathlessly, “I wasn’t expecting that.”

As I approached the naked man in chains, I felt my eyes bleed to amber. In the blink of an eye, I had the whip across his neck and pulled him back toward me. I ran my tongue over the mark I’d left on his back and a low growl escaped my lips. Apparently, my night with Dracula had awakened something within me.

“Lilith,” he said, but it wasn’t a question. “I never thought I’d find you here.”

I released Bade from the near strangling hold and walked around to face him. I wasn’t sure what possessed me, but I couldn’t resist the urge to touch him. I ran my hands over Bade’s beautiful tall body and let the whip fall to the floor. The warm flesh beneath my hands was every bit as firm and smooth as I had imagined it would be.

“Nice,” I sighed, as I looked down his body.

“Glad you approve,” he said, smiling down at me. “But what brings you here, love?” he purred with his thick Australian accent.

His ethereal golden hair shined underneath the light, and his pale blue eyes seemed to twinkle with desire. As I looked up into his handsome face, Bade gave every appearance of an angel, but I knew better.

I put as much sex into my voice as possible and said, “I came for you, Bade. I need your help.”

“We’re even, remember? I don’t owe Marco anything.”

I could tell Bade was fighting his reaction to me, but his body didn’t lie.

“This isn’t for Marco,” I said as I leaned in closer to his silver nipple ring. “It’s for me. Please, Bade,” I said softly, brushing my face against his chest like a cat. “I need your help.”

“Why me? What has happened?”

I explained the circumstances to Bade as briefly as possible, after which I added, “If you don’t cooperate, I could always bite your nipple off again.” I punctuated my threat by flicking my tongue across the silver stud and he shuddered appreciatively. I took it as a yes. “I knew you’d see things my way.”

Mason stepped forward to release Bade, and I handed him the whip. His eyes had turned a pale frightening blue that seemed to glow in the dim light.

“What do I owe you?” I asked softly.

“We’re even,” Mason said as he caressed the side of my face. “Though I do hope this will not be your last visit to my dungeon.”

“Just pray you never visit mine,” I threatened seductively.

Mason’s frighteningly sexy laughter followed me into the hall where I waited for Bade to get dressed. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could look at Bade without giving in to my baser desires. It was definitely time he put some clothes on.

Bade emerged a few minutes later. He was wearing faded jeans with strategically placed slashes. They were probably designed that way. The dark blue shirt he wore clung to his every curve and seemed to make his pale eyes more startling in contrast. We saw ourselves out without another word to Mason or each other. The second the door closed behind us he took my wrist to slow me down.

“That was impressive, love.”

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Not just my reaction, but the way you handled Mason. He doesn’t let anyone off that easy, not if they owe him something.” I stopped to look at Bade and he winked. “He must like you.”

“No offense, Bade, but I’m trying really hard not to think about what Mason likes.”

His laugh was a throaty masculine sound filled with sinful knowledge. “Don’t worry about it, love. It’s the night before the full moon. Anything that flipped your switch before will really set you off tonight.” I rolled my eyes at him and he teased, “Like Mason.”

“Mason does not flip my switch,” I said defensively.

“You’re a bad liar,” he said with a grin. “Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Bade continued as he patted me on the shoulder. “I can understand the attraction.”

“Then explain it to me, oh wise one.”

“It’s simple, really. He’s tall, dark, and dangerous. He’s everything you’ve ever been told was bad for you. You’re scared to death of him, and you can’t stand it. You don’t like being afraid of anything. Therefore, the only way to conquer your fear and consequent strange attraction is to fuck the shit out of him.”

“Forget I asked,” I said as I opened the back door and motioned for Bade to get in.

The problem was Bade had cut pretty close with his reasoning. I stayed quiet and let Richard explain more of what was going on to Bade while I drove.

Halfway down the driveway Alek asked, “So, how did you get in and out so quickly? Richard has been telling me about the place, and I was afraid we might have to force our way in after you.”

“Don’t ask,” I mumbled.

“Oh, you should have seen her,” Bade taunted from the back seat. “By the way, my name is Bade,” he said, extending a hand to Alek. They exchanged greetings before Bade continued. “But, in all honesty, it wasn’t fair to send little red here in against Mason.”

“Why not?” Richard asked.

“Because he can’t refuse her.”

“That’s enough, Bade,” I growled.

“You didn’t have sex with him?” Richard looked appalled.

“No, Richard, I didn’t have sex with him,” I snapped.

I glared at Bade in the rearview mirror and he agreed with a smile, “She’s telling the truth. She didn’t do Mason.” His grin was nothing short of evil as he said, “Left a hell of a mark on my back though.”

“I hate you,” I said with a laugh as Alek and Richard both shot questioning looks between myself and the werewolf.

“You had sex in front of Mason?” Richard asked.

“NO,” I growled. “Now drop it, Richard, and I mean fucking drop it or I’ll run this car in the ditch.”

Bade laughed, Alek buckled his seat belt, and Richard shut up. We had just reached the end of the long driveway that led to The Dungeon when a dark shape fluttered to the road in front of us. With a startled gasp I recognized Dracula. He was wearing another pair of even tighter black pants that clung to his long muscular legs. The tight fitting coat he wore buttoned up the front then parted above the belt line to hang to his knees in back. It was embroidered with intricate stitches along the seams. Around his throat he had tied a long black scarf which seemed to blend with the cape that trailed in the cold wind, caressing him like the darkness that surrounded the car. His knee-high boots glinted in the headlights as he approached my window, and I saw a whip attached to the belt that rode low on his slender hips.

“You did not wait for me,” he scolded softly as I let the window down.

“I’m sorry.” As I apologized, Richard opened the door so that he could get in the back seat. When he got in, I introduced him to Bade before pulling onto the main road.

It seemed like a matter of minutes before we were pulling onto a deserted narrow trail that led deep into some woods.

“Stop the car,” Richard said. “From the way they were describing the place, there should be a clearing ahead. That’s probably where they are.”

“That sounds reasonable.” I pulled to the side, almost between some bushes. We all exited the car as quietly as possible.

“I’ll scout ahead,” Bade said, as he sniffed the air. “There’s definitely more than werewolves out tonight.”

He took off inhumanly fast, but didn’t make a sound as he moved through the woods ahead of us.

“I’ll follow him,” Richard said. He moved in Bade’s footsteps, though at a slower, human pace.

“Well,” said Alek. “I suppose if we’re going to surround them, I’ll go in this direction, around the side.” He set off to our left, moving quietly through the dense brush.

“I guess that leaves us to bring up the middle somewhere,” Dracula said softly over my left shoulder.

I turned to look at him again before we followed the others. “Thank you for coming tonight,” I said softly. “You look good,” I couldn’t resist adding. He did. The sight of him in all that tight fitting black made muscles twitch that should keep to themselves.

“So do you,” he said as he caressed my vinyl covered hips, “and you are most welcome.”

The gleam in his eyes was almost sexual, but not quite.

“You’ve missed the hunt, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “Shall we?”

The vampire and I made our way quietly through the trees until we came to a clearing just as Richard had described. Directly in the middle of this opening were large piles of sticks and straw. It looked like they were getting ready to light a couple of bon fires. That’s what I thought until I noticed the two large posts set in the middle. Luther and David were restrained by silver chains a short distance away, both fighting to get free. They were going to burn them alive.

I nearly leapt from the bushes where we were crouched, but Dracula caught me by the wrist and shook his head. He pointed along the right side of the woods, and for a second I saw Bade’s blond hair glint in the moonlight. Then he pointed left and I saw the bushes twitch slightly, giving away Alek’s position also. They were waiting on us for a sign.

In the middle of this bizarre gathering I saw what had to be Dr. Williams. He was a massive, muscular monstrosity. The dark skin of his snakelike body reminded me of an anaconda. His head was slender and long atop his broad shoulders, just as Dr. Belcher’s had been, but Bill was ten times more frightening. I took a good look around. Amongst the various scattered freaks, I recognized another face, but this one was still human. Dr. Russell Sanders was helping to pile the brush even higher for their fires. I’d never liked him, but I hadn’t thought he’d be in on this. There were probably a dozen people present, including Dr. Williams. Some were werewolves already changed to their half-wolf form. Others were snakes of various colors, sizes, and skin textures, and one was a lizard nearly as large as Bill.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I waited until I saw them start to move David and Luther, and couldn’t hold back any more. I leapt from the bushes with a furious battle cry, followed immediately by Dracula. As I ran I extended both of the blades that were fastened to my forearms, and slashed my way through the tall lizard. He screamed with pain, as I jumped onto his back and began stabbing him repeatedly in the ribs. Hot blood spilled onto my catsuit, and seemed to burn my thighs, though I knew it couldn’t penetrate my clothing.

I heard the crack of a whip and saw Dr. Sanders go flying past me with a vicious slash across his face. Rain began to pour softly, and as I brought the lizard down, I looked up in time to see Dr. Sanders change. Hair began to grow over his hands. He ripped open the front of his shirt and roared as the bones of his face and hands lengthened, punctuated by painful cracking noises. I chopped the head off the lizard and stepped out of the way.

Dracula’s eyes were once again a solid emerald green that glowed in the night. His long billowing cape began to blend with the rain and darkness as he cracked his whip in challenge and hissed, “Come on, I have not fed tonight.”

The now fully transformed werewolf leapt at him. The whip cracked once again, and in midair wrapped around the animal’s neck. The vampire gave a violent jerk, and the werewolf dropped to his knees, clawing at the whip. Bits of silver glinted on the cat o’ nine tails as Dracula pulled the whip tighter. He grabbed the werewolf savagely, and snatched his head to the side. As he did so, the vampire threw back his head, and fangs longer than I recalled being used on me extended from his lovely mouth. Without warning or mercy he tore into Dr. Sanders’s throat. Crunching gurgling sounds could be heard as the werewolf fought to keep his throat from being torn out.

Dracula pulled back his head with a roar as he flung the dying werewolf to the ground. He turned his face upward to the storm, and let the rain wash away some of the blood. He looked to me then, and his eyes appeared normal once more as he wiped the blood from his mouth. I watched him for a moment, standing in the rain, my blood stained fallen angel. I should have been horrified, but I wasn’t. It was a terrible sight, but I couldn’t bring myself to be afraid of Dracula. I knew the pleasure his powerful body could bring, and therefore couldn’t bring myself to fear the pain.

His whip cracked past me and I jumped as he pulled another werewolf toward him. I turned back to the right and saw Alek freeing David and Luther while a fully transformed Bade took on two snake men. Richard helped David and Luther to the safety of the trees while I looked in time to see Dr. Williams going for Bade’s unprotected back.

Quickly, I snatched the blade strapped to my left thigh and threw it. The weapon lodged itself deeply in the thick hide of Bills back. He screamed and fought to reach the blade while I closed in on him.

To my surprise and horror, he began to laugh at the sight of me. “What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed down at me.

“I think I’m looking at a new pair of boots,” I snarled.

I felt my eyes burn amber as I extended my blades again and braced myself for his attack. Before he could come at me, Bade’s massive body stepped in the way. He had sustained some minor scratches and cuts, but no major damage.

“If you’re anything like your snake men,” he growled, “this should be no problem.”

“Excuse me, but I believe I was here first,” I said, stepping up beside him.

“Are you always this competitive?” he growled as Dr. Williams took a flying leap at us both.

“Yes,” I grunted as I stabbed the back of Bill’s thigh. My blade had some difficulty penetrating his skin, and the wound was not as deep as I’d have liked. “This could be bad.”

A massive black hand caught me square in the chest and I went flying backward through the rain. I hit the ground hard and went sliding across the wet grass. As I gasped for breath, I looked up to see a female werewolf flying through the air toward me. She burst into flames a second before she would have hit me, and I rolled out of the way. The she-wolf lay writhing on the ground. No amount of rain seemed to extinguish the flames. I looked around for their source and saw Alek watching me from a few feet away.

“Thanks,” I panted, offering him a weak smile.

I turned back to Dr. Williams, determined to not be outdone as he sent Bade flying through the air as well. The impact of Bade’s massive physique sent me sprawling.

“Get your hairy ass off of me,” I growled.

Bade rolled to the side and put his big hands around my waist. “Is anything broken?” he asked. He growled softly while he continued to feel up and down my ribs and torso. I believe he was upset at the prospect of hurting me.

“Probably, but I can still breathe,” I gasped.

Truthfully, my body hurt so bad, there was no telling what damage had really been done. But as long as I could stand, I intended to keep fighting.

Dr. Williams came charging through the rain and clotheslined Luther who was running to my rescue. From his position on the ground Luther grabbed Bill’s ankle, and started trying to chew his way through the snakeman’s thick hide. After some effort, Bill shook him loose. Luther hit the ground, and immediately began to transform. I didn’t want to watch my friend become a werewolf. Fortunately, something else caught my attention.

“Lilith!” Richard screamed.

Richard was clawing his way through the mud, trying his best to escape the clutches of a yellow snakewoman. I started running to him, but the ground was now so wet that I slipped. I had gained enough momentum that I slid right between the legs of the snake. I thrust my hips upward at the same time I spread my legs wide, knocking her off her feet. She bounced back instantly, and I scrambled to my feet, ducking her first punch. I nearly tripped over the still prone Richard before David pulled him out of the way. The woman was much taller than me, and I needed a good head shot to keep her down for more than a second. As she came at me again, I jumped as hard as I could into the air, and caught her under the chin with my knee. I heard something crunch and the woman fell to the ground, spitting out teeth. Before she could recover again, I was on her chest, with a blade to either side of her throat. I closed my eyes as I sliced off her head. The warm spray of blood across my face sickened me in contrast to the cleansing rain.

I wiped my face on the back of my arm and looked around for Dr. Williams again. Two more snakes burst into flames as Alek rose to Richard’s defense somewhere to my right. A pain filled howl echoed through the night, and for a second, everything stood still as I looked for the victim. It was a wonder I could distinguish one ragging howl from another, but it just seemed wrong somehow.

To my left Dracula brought down two more werewolves, but I was still looking for the source of that awful noise. Then I saw him. Bade staggered from behind Dr. Williams. As he moved, another wolf dove after him, and Bade swatted the beast like an insect. He was still fighting, but wounded horribly. A long, thick wooden pole was lodged completely through his back, and protruding from the right side of his chest.

“NO!” I screamed, running forward to slice the hands from the wolf who meant Bade further harm. It did something to me to see Bade hurting. I wasn’t sure why, but I couldn’t stand it. I hacked the fallen werewolf mercilessly. Bade’s big hand on my wrist finally stopped my brutal assault.

“I think you got him,” he said weakly.

Dracula’s whip cracked past me again and I heard Bill scream. Bade had done a lot of damage to the snakeman, but not enough to bring him down. The vampire moved with the agility of a big cat stalking its prey. Back and forth he paced, cracking the whip in his wake. All the while, his eyes never left his enemy. The rain had soaked him through, and his wet hair clung to the sides of his face. His eyes glowed the familiar deep green that was both frightening and sexy. Anyone who wasn’t on our side was already dead or dying, and we all stopped to watch the show.

Dr. Williams was fast, but Dracula was faster. He moved with a speed I had never witnessed, but every step seemed to be calculated. No move he made was an accident, no snap of his whip out of place. We watched with rapt attention as he finally brought the snakeman to his knees. I had unconsciously moved closer to the scene, and when Bill reached out a hand toward Dracula, I cut it off. He screamed miserably as I stepped forward, extended the blade on my right arm, and sliced his throat. The cut would have decapitated anyone without Bill’s thick skin, but he just started bleeding. The vampire fell upon him, and drank from the wound.

“Wait, wait,” Bill pleaded weakly.

I put my hand on Dracula’s shoulder, and pulled him back.

“What?” I asked.

“Surely, we could work something out,” he wheezed. “It doesn’t have to be this way. Is there something you want? Is there nothing that would make you spare my life?”

I looked at the snakeman for a moment, as if I were considering his offer. I hated to kill people who begged for their lives. Even if they were the scum of the earth, it haunted me. I didn’t want to lose more sleep over some jerk that deserved what he got, but I couldn’t be the one to finish it this time. I almost felt sorry for him, but then I remembered what he had done to Richard. “You know what I really want?” Bill looked to me expectantly. I leaned toward him conspiratorially and whispered, “I want a pair of snake skin boots.”

“No!” he screamed as the vampire fell on him again.

Just as I turned my back on the gruesome scene, Bade dropped to his knees. I ran to him and slipped in the mud as I tried to kneel down.

“Bade,” I said, taking his face in my hands. Even in his half-wolf form, I could read his expression enough to know he was fighting to stay conscious. “We’ve got to remove the pole,” I said.

Luther stepped up to help. He was covered in soft white blond fur. He was an impressive sight, though not quite as tall as Bade. He got on his knees in front of the fallen werewolf and gripped his shoulders.

“I’ll hold him,” he growled softly.

Bade leaned forward and took hold of Luther’s shoulders for support. I took the massive pole in my hands and he whined like an injured dog. I didn’t want to hurt him more than was necessary, but the pole had to be removed. I braced myself for the task. Without warning, I placed my foot on Bade’s back and snatched. The pole came loose as Bade’s pain filled roar echoed through the clearing. Luther released him, and he fell to the ground.

“Shit.” I dropped the bloody pole in the mud and ran to lift Bade’s head. “Can you transform?”

He blinked at me a few times before answering. “Why? That would take energy I’m going to need.”

“Because I can’t heal you like this,” I answered, biting back a sob.

“Why would you heal me?” he asked softly.

I tried to apply pressure to the wound, but blood continued to flow, leaving the werewolf increasingly cold to the touch.

“Because this is my fault,” I whispered. My tears began to mingle with the rain as I looked down at him. “You wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t come looking for you. You’d be back at The Dungeon with Mason.”

“A cheap thrill,” he coughed. “You didn’t force me to be here.”

“But, it’s my fault,” I insisted.

“Who’d have thought I’d bleed to death trying to save Marco’s wolves? Talk about irony.”

“You’re not going to bleed to death. Please, Bade let me help you.”

“Will your loyalty to Marco allow you to heal me?”

“This has nothing to do with Marco.”

That was a lie, and we both knew it. Saving the only alpha who challenged his power might not go over well with Marco, but I couldn’t watch Bade die.

“Please, Bade,” I whispered softly, as I rested my forehead against his. “Please.”

I felt the hair that touched my forehead begin to retract, and I kept my eyes closed. My ears were filled with the sound of Bade’s bones breaking and reforming. His shoulders which were pressed against my legs began to shrink. The pointed ears that had been beneath my hands seemed to slip through my fingers. In a matter of minutes, I was holding handfuls of Bade’s golden hair and looking down into the pale blue eyes of a man I should have let die.

“Sit up,” I said.

Bade got shakily to his knees before me. The cold rain poured over every ridge and curve of his naked body. He was a vision of sinful desires, glistening in the pale moonlight. Only the gaping wound in his chest ruined the illusion. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure if I could heal Bade or not. I had never tried to use my abilities to heal anyone’s physical injury before. I had healed my own wounds, but not consciously. Whatever happened, I had to try.

The warm sensual power flowed through my body as I looked at Bade. I called on that part of myself that had been passed down from The Seducer. I might not know how to heal him, but Mathias did. I knew he did, and he was a part of me. That meant somewhere deep down, I knew how to heal Bade. It was just a matter of tapping into that knowledge. Time was short, and I decided to let my instincts take over.

Steam began to rise from my body where the cold rain touched me. A fire such as I had never felt before burned within me. I reached out my right hand, and placed it over the grisly wound. Blood seeped through my fingers, and I fought back more tears of regret. Bade wasn’t going to die, not when I could save him.

“I thought you didn’t have any hang-ups about killing me,” Bade said gently.

“Things change,” I said as I pulled him toward me. His full lips were soft and tender as they pressed longingly against mine. With my other arm, I hugged Bade against me and he trembled. Through my direct contact with his skin, I knew Bade did not shiver with cold. He wanted me that much. I hadn’t realized. I felt his desire as if it was the tide coursing through him, and crashing against my lips. I called it to me. I pulled Bade’s desire from him to fuel the fire inside of me. Through his lips, I drank him in, pulling him down like a moth into my flame. I thought of everything I’d ever wanted to do to Bade, and I used that energy. I let that desire build until I thought the fire would consume me. I released the flame, and felt it course through my body into his. The wound began to close underneath my hand. Bade threw back his head and cried out, only this time, his voice was not filled with pain, but pleasure.

I dropped down in the mud and looked up at him in amazement. The wound was not completely healed, but the hole in his chest was closed. There wasn’t a scab and the skin was still raw, but the wound was closed. Bade looked down at his chest with a startled expression. He reached behind his back, obviously looking for the other hole and withdrew his hand without a trace of blood.

“I don’t understand,” he said as he toppled over onto my lap again.

“Neither do I, but you’re not going to bleed to death tonight.”

Bade was still very weak from his injury, and probably against my better judgment, I decided to take him home with me. Luther and I helped to support Bade back to the car. Alek, Dracula, David, and Richard all followed while Luther and I argued.

“Marco is not going to like this,” he insisted.

“Well, I don’t like people dying because of my poor decisions. What happened to Bade is my fault and I’m not going to send him off like this and just hope for the best.”

“He’s Marco’s challenger!”

“And he was my responsibility tonight! It doesn’t matter who he is, he risked his life to save other people that should count for something.”

Bade remained quiet through all of this, mostly because he was slipping in and out of consciousness. Once we got him in the front seat, I took a blanket from the trunk and covered him. It wouldn’t do to have someone see me with a naked werewolf in my car.

Just as I was wondering how everyone would fit in the back seat, David said, “One of them actually stole my car, so someone could ride with me. It’s just over on the other side of those trees.” He pointed in that direction.

Alek went with David, and Richard and Dracula crawled in the back seat. We hadn’t gotten far before I saw flashing lights behind us.

“Son of a bitch,” I said as I beat the steering wheel in frustration. “This is just all I need. All right,” I said, turning to the men in the back seat, “you two try to look respectable, and don’t say anything.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Dracula wiped frantically at his mouth to remove any last traces of blood, while Richard tried unsuccessfully to manage his wild gray hair. They looked like exactly what they were: a vampire and a mutant scientist sitting in my back seat.

“You want a tic tac?” Richard offered Dracula.

I couldn’t control the laughter that erupted at this suggestion. I made a quick attempt to cover the wound on Bade’s chest with the blanket as I pulled to the side of the road. The officer approached the car slowly with his flashlight shining directly at me. I lowered the window and said the first thing that came to mind. “Is there a problem officer?”

“Well, that all depends on the reason you were driving so fast,” he said.

From the few glimpses I got of the cop’s face around the bright light, he looked young. Maybe I could charm him.

“I’ve got a sick friend,” I said as sweetly as possible.

He shined the light over Bade about the time he took a deep breath. The blanket slipped just enough to reveal the still raw wound in his chest.

“Okay, ma’am, you need to step out of the car.”

“Wait a minute, I’m Lilith Mercury. I’m the leader of H.A.V.O.C., and this is official business, I swear.”

He took a step back and yelled over his shoulder, “Elijah, you better have a look at this!”

Elijah! Was I ever glad to hear that name? Elijah Jasper was a friend of mine. We’d spent a lot of time together that past summer, and become fairly close. Truth be told, I’d sort of dated him while Alfred was out of town for three months. Since nothing was set in stone between Alfred and I at the time, I figured it couldn’t hurt to spend some time with Elijah.

“Lilith,” he greeted me with a smile. “Put that away,” he said, pushing the other cop’s light away from my face.

“Thanks,” I said, returning the smile.

“So, what’s going on here?” As Elijah asked this he shined his flashlight in my back seat. There sat Richard with his clothes torn to shreds and a visible cut on his forehead. Then on the other side was Dracula with blood stains at the corners of his mouth. “What the hell is going on here?!”

I summed up the evening as best I could for Elijah without incriminating myself, or anyone else in the car.

“So, your friends were taken by this snakeman that’s been on the loose and you went to rescue them, in your official capacity,” he added the last quickly.

“That’s right.”

“Then how do you explain the naked man in the front seat?”

“Oh.” I blushed. “That’s Bade. He’s a werewolf who was injured tonight. I’m taking him to have his wounds treated.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t Bade the one who had us both kidnapped last year?” Elijah’s voice told me he knew exactly who Bade was, and he was aghast that I would have him in my car.

“Eli, I can’t imagine how this must look to you. Believe me when I say that a lot has changed since last year.”

“With Bade?” He was definitely insinuating something.

“Yes. He never meant for our kidnapping to get as rough as it did, but that’s beside the point.”

“Is it?”

“Just listen, please. He was nearly killed trying to save some of my friends tonight. Surely you can understand that I couldn’t leave him to die. The past is finished. There are things I’m sure we all regret, especially Bade. But we’re alive and all we can do is move forward.”

“Actually, that makes a lot of sense.”

“Does that mean we can go?”

Elijah sighed after a minute’s pause. “All right. Get going then, I’ll see you later.”

“I cannot believe that worked,” Dracula said as we pulled away.

“Don’t jinx it,” Richard warned.

Once we got back home, Alek and David were waiting on the front porch. Since the police hadn’t stopped them, they’d arrived first. Alek and Richard moved Bade to the couch while I went upstairs with Dracula. He kept a spare toothbrush in my bathroom cabinet. I unzipped the front of my suit to look at the purple bruise on my chest where Bill had hit me.

“Do you think anything is broken?” he asked around a mouth full of toothpaste.

“I don’t know.” I tried to stretch and winced against the pain in my ribs. “Maybe.”

He put away the toothbrush and pulled me closer. “I would be glad to help you recover,” he suggested smoothly. “Though I doubt your lover would approve.”

The smile was involuntary as I took in his lovely features. “I appreciate the offer, but you’re right about Marco. I don’t think he would tolerate me spending another night with you.”

“What about the other werewolf staying here?”

“His name is Bade, and we’ll jump off that bridge when we come to it.” He looked confused by the expression. “I’m not going to worry about it now,” I explained.

“Oh, I had never heard that expression before. You know, I do not get out much,” he said with a grin.

After I assured him we would all be fine, I walked Dracula to the balcony. He gave me a chaste kiss goodnight, and leapt over the railing. I heard the swish of his cape, and he was gone.

By the time I got back downstairs, I was already starting to ache. I knew what would work best for Bade and myself, but I wasn’t sure I had the nerve to suggest it. Richard and David had already gone, and Alek was examining Bade’s injuries.

“It’s impressive work,” he said, “but he’s still weak, and there’s a chance these could reopen.” Alek stood up and turned to me. “What will you do with him?”

I looked to Luther before I said, “I was thinking he should sleep with me.”

Alek looked a bit startled and Luther started to protest loudly.

“I don’t mean have sex with him,” I yelled over Luther. “I mean literally sleep. It worked before when I was hurt and I slept with Marco. He said that werewolves heal more quickly when they are next to other werewolves.”

“Yes, pack members,” Luther said. “He is not a member of the pack. You can’t be seriously suggesting this!”

“Well I am,” I snapped. “Bade is near death, and that is my fault.” I unzipped the front of my suit enough to show some of the massive bruising without indecently exposing myself. “Look at this. There’s no telling how many internal injuries I’ve sustained. It hurts to breathe, I can taste blood when I cough, and I’m starting to feel dizzy.” I closed the zipper as I said, “You can stay too, if you feel better about it Luther, but I’m sleeping with Bade tonight. Otherwise, I’d hate to think how we’d end up by morning.”

Alek helped Luther bring Bade upstairs before he excused himself to treat his own minor wounds and get some rest. “I’ll check on you in the morning,” he assured me with a kiss on the forehead.

“What do you want me to do with him?” Luther asked sulkily.

“Put him in the tub.”

Without another word Luther began to fill the large tub while I tried to sit in the chair by the door. It was difficult to find a position that didn’t cause immediate and sharp pains in my ribs. I think Dr. Williams had hurt me worse when he flung Bade on top of me. Bade had come to again and he sat on the floor propped against the tub while I explained to him what we were doing. He was covered in dried blood, and there was no way he was going in my clean bed without being washed. Besides, the wounds still needed to be cleaned.

Bade laughed and then frowned at the pain it apparently caused. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for an invitation to your bed, love. Though I’d much prefer it to be under different circumstances.” His charming Australian accent seemed to be even thicker when he was in pain.

“I’m flattered, but I can barely move.” I smiled weakly. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Marco is going to shit,” Luther said angrily. He stood beside the tub with his hands on his hips still pouting.

“Then don’t tell him about it yet,” I said. “I think that once I explain the circumstances he’ll be more reasonable than you think.”

“Tomorrow night is the full moon gathering. He’ll expect me to be there. Once you two are out, you’re likely to stay that way for days until you’re healed. What the hell am I supposed to tell him?”

“The truth.” I gasped as another sharp pain hit me. “I never want to lie to Marco. Tell him the truth.” I collapsed against the chair and gave up on trying to remove my boots.

Luther knelt at my feet and started taking off my shoes. “Maybe he will understand,” he said more gently. “You do seem to have a way with him, but he would definitely beat my ass for this.”

“You won’t be hurt for helping?” I asked.

“Not for helping you,” he said, “but I don’t know how he’ll feel about me helping Bade.”

“Tell him I asked you to. Besides, you haven’t been helping Bade really. You’ve done all of this for me. You were helping me, and by staying tonight, you’ll be helping me to heal.”

“What about Bade? He’ll be in the bed too, won’t he?”

“Just don’t touch me,” Bade suggested.

“There you go,” I said, gesturing toward Bade. “Problem solved. Now the question is: will you mind seeing me naked, because I can’t get myself undressed?”

Luther laughed softly and said, “I think I can handle the shock.”

“I’ve got scars, Luther. I’m not perfect.” I felt awkward at the thought of Luther seeing my scars, but I was in too much pain to let it bother me as bad as it normally would have.

“Nothing’s perfect, Lilith.” He smiled kindly as he reached for me. “I can’t imagine there’s anything underneath your clothes that will change the way I feel about you.”

“Unless you’re gay, I think you’re wrong,” Bade said with a smirk.

“That’s not what I meant, you pervert,” Luther retorted. “Lilith and I grew up together, I love her. Nothing will ever change that. Of course I find her attractive.” He winked at me as he said, “But that ship has sailed.”

“Can you stand up, love?” Bade asked.

I managed to get to my feet, but it took effort. I swayed slightly while Luther unzipped the catsuit and peeled it from my upper body. He removed my weapons and placed them in the chair. “Here,” Luther said as he turned me around, “prop against the wall while I help you step out of this.” He slid the suit down the rest of my body and helped to steady me with a hand on my thigh while I stepped out of it.

When I turned around, I couldn’t bring myself to look Luther in the eye. I was too worried about what he was thinking about my unsightly scars.

“I’ve seen worse,” he said softly as he tilted my chin upward. “It’s the bruises that concern me.

I looked down at my ribs and groaned. My entire torso was scattered with bruises. It looked like someone had splattered me with purple and black paint.

“I don’t remember taking this much of a beating,” I said as I leaned on Luther for support.

“Your ribs are probably broken.”

“Probably. But I can’t go to the hospital, and neither can he.” I gestured toward Bade. “There’d be too much explaining to do.”

“So, what now?” Luther asked.

“Well, I was planning to take a shower, but seeing as how the pain keeps getting worse, I suppose I’ll have to get in the tub with Bade.”

Bade grinned from ear to ear while Luther sat me on the tub, and helped him to get in. Bade was much paler than usual. He’d lost a great deal of blood, and even an alpha werewolf has his limits. I really wasn’t concerned about being naked with him. Bade didn’t have the strength to hurt me, even if he was a danger, which I no longer believed he was.

“I guess I’ll take a shower then,” Luther said while I slid down into the water.

I sighed as the heat helped to ease some of the terrible pain. I could hear Luther stripping behind me, but didn’t look. The water was almost too hot, however the slight tingling sensation helped to distract me from the stabbing pains in my ribs.

“Here,” Bade said softly, “let me help you.”

I turned around and let him wash my back and hair. When it came time to rinse, I wasn’t capable of leaning back to dip my head in the water, so Bade poured handfuls over my head.

“Will you let me check to be sure you aren’t cut anywhere?” he asked.

I looked over my shoulder at Bade and he didn’t appear to be teasing me. He placed one of his big hands at the back of my neck and said, “Relax, I’ve got you.” With that, Bade lowered me back into the water. While I floated with my head in his hand, Bade examined my ribs with something close to expertise.

“You seem to know what you’re doing.”

“My mother was a nurse.”

It seemed strange to hear Bade mention his mother. I hadn’t really thought of him as having family, but that was stupid. Everyone had a family, even if they weren’t still together.

“Where is she now?” I asked.

“She died,” he said softly. “You know,” Bade said as he ran his hand over my lower abdomen, “these aren’t that bad.”

“They’re not on your body.”

He helped to bring me to a sitting position and I realized Bade had not once tried to grope me.

“Her and Marco were the same, really,” he commented nostalgically, “always trying to see the good in people. But, all people are not good.”

Strands of wet golden hair clung to his face, and I reached up almost involuntarily to brush them back. “And some people, are not all bad,” I said softly.

I helped Bade to wash the rest of the dried blood from his back. He slid down in the water so I could wash his hair. For a few minutes, I forgot how awful I felt and lost myself in the beauty of Bade. Even if he was still my enemy, there was nothing wrong with admiring him. His golden hair slipped through my fingers like spun silk. The otherworldly color never failed to give me pause. It complemented the pale icy blue of his eyes.

“Is this your natural color?”

The look on Bade’s face was wicked as he smiled up at me. “Haven’t you noticed?”

I looked down the length of his body and felt myself blush. “It matches.”

His smile let me know he would have laughed had it not caused so much pain. I continued to scrub gently over some small cuts near his hairline.

“What are we doing here?” I asked softly.

“Bathing.”

“No,” I said. “I mean us. How did you and I end up in a tub together?” I ran my hand down his chest and rested my fingers above the silver stud in his left nipple. “Even with the enactment of the werewolf code, you are my enemy.”

“Then why did you save me?”

“Because you didn’t deserve to die tonight. I’d never forgive myself if I’d left you to bleed to death in the mud like a dog.”

“I’m just an animal, love,” he said gently, putting his hand over mine.

“You’re wrong, Bade.” After a minute I asked, “How did your mother die?”

I thought he wasn’t going to answer at first, but then he said, “She was working at a clinic in Sydney. They treated werewolves secretly. Lycanthropy is much more wide spread in Australia than most people are aware of.” He paused to stroke my hand. “She was attacked by one of her patients. I found her.”

I wasn’t sure what to say, nothing seemed adequate. “I’m so sorry, Bade,” I whispered.

“I was eighteen,” he said. “Her car was in the shop, and I’d gone to pick her up that night. The same wolf attacked me, only I survived.”

“That’s awful.”

He rose slowly from the water and ran a hand through his long hair. “It’s been ten years, and I still miss her,” he confessed.

“You were attacked the same year I was then, I was fifteen.”

“I couldn’t even get drunk properly for my twenty-first birthday.” He smiled sadly.

“How did you end up here?”

“I moved to be with her sister who lived in Miami. Of course, I refused the offer to live with my aunt and uncle for fear of attacking them. Eventually, I found my way here.”

“All of this heart to heart stuff is touching, but it’s above and beyond your call of duty,” Luther said to me sarcastically.

I hadn’t even noticed he was out of the shower. I turned to see him wrapped in a red towel, and standing over my shoulder. He helped Bade and I out of the tub and dried me while Bade propped against the door frame and dried himself.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“What about the full moon tomorrow night?” I asked as Bade slid underneath the scarlet sheets.

“What about it?”

“You’ll still transform, right? Isn’t that a bit messy for silk sheets?”

“Not for me,” Bade said, “not for Marco either. We can both shift form without the um … mess,” he assured me with a smile.

“So, what will happen tomorrow night?” I asked.

“I’m not sure really. I’ve never been injured this badly right before the full moon. But, I suspect you’ll just have an oversized teddy bear to keep you warm,” he teased.

I couldn’t help laughing at his description, and it hurt. I had seen Bade’s wolfman form before, and he was definitely not a teddy bear. Luther helped me to the edge of the bed and announced, “You two make yourselves comfortable, I need a drink.”

“Is he really that afraid of what Marco will do to him?” I asked Bade.

“Yes. But I think you’re right about Marco. He wouldn’t have let me bleed to death in the mud either.”

I crawled painfully forward, and Bade moved back the sheet for me. “Let me press myself against your back,” I said. “Most of the bruises are on my chest and ribs, and your entry wound is on your back. I think if we press those parts together, it will work to our benefit.”

“I know I’m hurt bad when I don’t even feel like pointing out how dirty that sounds,” Bade said as he rolled over to face the door.

I slid up onto the pillows and pressed my breasts against his back. “By the way, stop trying to fight my battles for me.”

“You noticed that, huh?”

“You weren’t exactly subtle.” I wrapped my arm around his ribs and placed my right hand over the injury on his chest. “There’s only one alpha male for me, Bade.”

“Things change,” he said softly as he placed his hand over mine.

*****

My injuries must have been more severe than I had suspected. I went into an almost comatose like state as soon as I closed my eyes. I slept through the full moon completely. I came to once for a few minutes and recognized Luther’s scent as he curled up behind me. Bade was still unconscious, and I buried my face against his hair before dozing off again. I could feel a scab underneath my hand where it still rested against his chest.

I didn’t know how much time had passed when I recognized another familiar scent. It was clean, like aftershave mingled with soap. But underneath all of that was the smell of fur, and leather, and Marco.

“Hello, Red,” his rough sexy voice whispered against my ear.

“Marco.” I almost got up, but he stopped me.

“Shh, you need to rest. You were hurt pretty bad.”

“How did you get in?”

I felt him smile against my cheek. “Fear for your safety gave me wings,” he teased. “I jumped through your balcony window. You really should learn to keep that thing locked. Don’t worry, no one will know I’m here. I’ll leave the same way. One of these days, you’ll let me in your front door, Red. I wouldn’t want to spoil that moment by walking out of it before I’d been invited in.”

I could feel Bade’s slow even heartbeat beneath my hand and was suddenly afraid of what might happen to him.

“What about Bade?” I asked as I watched the way his hair reflected like brightest gold in the morning sun.

“Luther told me what happened,” he said softly. “I couldn’t have left him to die either. How can I be angry at you for not doing something I couldn’t have done? I’ll be gone before he wakes up.” He sighed. “I’d rather he didn’t know I was here.”

“Why are you here?” I snuggled back against him and realized that Marco had once again separated our bodies with a sheet.

“Because the only way for you to heal faster than sleeping with an alpha werewolf, is to sleep between two of them.”

Bade and I dozed off and on for the rest of the week. When I woke up, Marco was gone, and my balcony doors were still unlocked. Bade left fully recovered except for a slight pinkish tint to his skin where the gaping wound used to be. He assured me that would fade soon also, and thanked me for my “mercy on an unworthy animal.”

That night I started to write to Dracula and found a note waiting for me.

Write me when you are awake.

I wrote back to let him know I was all right, and we somehow got into a discussion about the letter Alfred had sent me on Valentine’s Day. I still cried when I thought about it. Dracula seemed a most likely choice of confidant when it came to understanding heartbreak.

I am truly and deeply sorry that you chose to trust someone who was too much of a fool to see you for who you are and what it takes for you to trust someone. Does he not realize that he will never find another woman like you? I have looked, and they do not make them. Everyone else is like a sugar substitute in a world where all you want is some real sugar to make your damned coffee less bitter. Sorry, but I am no poet. (By the way, I did love coffee before everything started to taste like ash.)

I would threaten all manner of vengeance, but you made it clear I cannot fight your battles for you. I am not your avenger. Now, this is the part that you have no doubt been dreading. If I did not write this part, I could not rightfully call myself a man, now could I? So, I will make this as sincere and to the point as I can manage … know that anytime you remember the feel of my arms around you, it need not be only a memory. Think of me for comfort, for solitude, let me be your refuge. Know that whatever he made you feel, I am also capable of, both good and bad. However, I would never intentionally cause you harm. Let me hold you until his memory fades, till the nightmare you suffer is only a distant dream. I am haunted by the sweet smell of your hair and the way you sigh in your sleep … I meant this letter to be of some comfort, but now I am starting to whine. If you need more than a memory to comfort you … you can call me, any time.

Sincerely,

D

My response was:

Thank you. I know your offer still stands. Please understand that I cannot accept it. I am grateful for your friendship, and your understanding, but I cannot offer you anything more. You told me what you wanted me to know, and it tore my heart out. Now, it’s my turn … know that when I think of you, a memory is nearly more than I can take. If your memory still makes me tremble inside, I cannot imagine what the real thing would do. Part of me would love to see you again, but I could not bear to watch the way you look at me, knowing that I cannot offer you what you need. I never meant to cause you any pain. I am haunted by the fire in your eyes, and the gentleness of your touch. I do think of you for comfort. I imagine you holding me in solitude. Perhaps things could have been different between us in another time, another place. Know that I will never be over you, that I will always want to run to you, to let you take me away from everything … I simply can’t.

He answered:

“I understand, my angel. I will continue to be your friend, or whatever else you need me to be. The truth is, I will never be over you either.”

Epilogue

Richard seems to be coping better with his changes. He’s more willing to talk about things now, and comes over more often. It’s almost like having the old Richard back.

It seems Marco’s Valentine’s gift to Kat was right on target. She announced to me last week that she is now dating Judas, the stripping wereleopard who delivered Marco’s roses.

Thanks to the persuasion of Aldan Medwin, the laws of vampiric tolerance were passed, allowing vampires to finally live in the open. This announcement didn’t cause the media sensation that the werewolves had. I suppose people were still a bit numb from the shock of it all. Dracula was reinstated as a Hunter. He was also assigned to be my new partner at his request. I am honored to have the first Hunter as my partner, and the first member of my H.A.V.O.C. team. Alek has also joined H.A.V.O.C. and is still living happily in my dungeon.

As for me personally, I’m afraid to admit how happy I am. Life is strange. I never expected to be happy again after losing Alfred, but I am. After all these years of wanting him, Marco Barak is finally mine. I want to jump up and down and scream every time I think about it, but I’m also afraid of having it taken away.

Bradley told me once that when I reached a point that I was happy with myself, I could decide how much of me to give to someone else. He was right. The thing that really bothers me is how could such an asshole know so much about human nature? Of course, it suited his purpose to know what people felt. He needed to know how their minds worked in order to manipulate them. That’s a lot of trouble to go to just to hurt someone. I would never take the time to find the strings around someone’s heart only to pluck them so violently. That is truly evil. I take some small comfort in knowing that I am not like him. I want to do right by Marco. I know how deeply he cares for me, I just don’t want to screw it up.

As for Bade, I received a birthday present from him a month early: a brand new pair of snakeskin boots.

THE END

Lilith Mercury’s story continues in book four of the Werewolf Hunter series, Original Sin.

About the author:

This multi-published, best selling author has been writing stories for her own entertainment since she was a child. Tracey has always been drawn to the macabre, with a fondness for anything with fangs. She writes what she enjoys reading in the hopes that others will enjoy her stories as well. Her main goal as a writer is to put emotions into words. She wants people to feel something when they read her work.

T.K. Hardin is the name she uses to write erotic horror.

Website – www.traceyhkitts.com

Blog - http://traceyhkitts.blogspot.com/

Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Tracey-H-Kitts/73968579374

Table of Contents

- RED
- OBJECT OF MY AFFECTION
- THE DREAD MOON