As the sun slipped behind the mountains, she began to tremble uncontrollably. Nerves, she thought, it was just a bad case of nerves. And yet it was more than that. She felt as though her skin no longer fit, as if she had woken up wearing someone else’s body.
She was trying to summon the strength to rise and return to the cave when Santiago found her.
There was no need for words. He took one look at her pale face, the tremors that wracked her slender frame, and pulled her to her feet and into his embrace.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on tight. Shaking so badly she could hardly speak, she said, “I’m…so…afraid.”
“I know.” He stroked her hair and her back, all the while promising her that it would be all right, that he would be there with her through the night, that there was nothing for her to be afraid of.
“I’m sorry to be…such a coward.”
“You are not a coward.”
She buried her face against his chest. “I’ve faced vampires. I’ve staked vampires. I should be able to handle this.”
“You are handling it just fine.”
She looked up at him, her face drawn, her eyes brimming with tears. “Were you afraid, when you were turned?”
He nodded. “Afraid does not quite describe what I felt.”
She sniffed back her tears, comforted somehow by the knowledge that he had once been afraid. “I talked to a wolf today.”
“Indeed? And what did you talk about?”
“You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”
“No. I believe you.”
“You do? Really?”
“In the old days, the animals were not as they are today. They were bigger and stronger and had mystical powers. In those days, they were friends to the Indians and often spoke to them.”
“But I’m not Indian. Anyway, I think I imagined the whole thing.” She laughed self-consciously. “He told me his name was Pahin Sapa.”
She didn’t think she had ever seen Santiago looked surprised, but he was definitely flabbergasted now.
“You are sure that is what he said?”
“Yes, I think so, why?”
“Pahin Sapa is the name of the shaman we came here to see, the one who was killed.”
The moon had taken command of the sky by the time Santiago and Regan returned to the cave.
Anxiety rolled off Regan in waves so strong it was palpable, almost visible, provoking an answering tension in Santiago. The only werewolf he had ever seen shift had been Vasile and, due to the werewolf’s age, the transformation had happened in an instant.
Inside the cave, Regan began to pace. She couldn’t sit still, couldn’t stop shaking. She kicked off her shoes and removed her jacket as heat built inside her. Then she paced some more. Time and again, she reached up to explore her face with her hands, as if to reassure herself that nothing had changed, then, uttering a harsh cry of dismay, she came to an abrupt halt. She was trembling uncontrollably now.
Eyes wide, she stared at Santiago. “It’s happening,” she whispered. “Oh, lord, it’s happening now. Make it stop! Please, make it stop!”
“Try to stay calm,” Santiago said. “Listen to the sound of my voice.”
Regan saw his lips move but his words had no meaning. She clutched her stomach, doubling over as a burning sensation spread through her, as if all her internal organs were on fire, melting and reforming. There was a buzzing inside her head. Her skin rippled, her bones popped and cracked as they realigned themselves. With a hoarse cry, she dropped to her hands and knees, staring in horror at the thick coat of fur that sprouted from her arms, the strong claws that replaced her fingernails.
Looking up at Santiago, she cried, “Help me!”
He shook his head, helpless to do anything for her now except watch as the transformation progressed. Her shirt and jeans ripped at the seams and she shook them off.
Speechless, Santiago could only stand there, completely engrossed at what he was seeing as Regan Delaney disappeared and a beautiful blond wolf with bright green eyes stood in her place. Throwing back her head, she whined softly, and then, with a mournful howl and a twitch of her tail, she ran out of the cave.
In the blink of an eye, Santiago changed into a wolf and followed her into the night.
Panic chased Regan through the darkness. Unbelievable as it seemed, she was a wolf, and she knew it. The earth was cool beneath her paws. A hundred different scents inundated her nostrils, among them the fecund smell of the forest and the animals that dwelled within it, from the jackrabbit trembling in the underbrush to the owl that swooped overhead. She knew there was water nearby, and somewhere in the distance, a dead animal.
She ran blindly, tirelessly, amazed at the way the world looked through her wolf eyes. Only when she slowed did she become aware that she was being followed.
Coming to an abrupt stop, she spun around, her hackles rising, a growl rumbling deep in her throat when she saw the black wolf. She walked toward it, stiff-legged, ears and nostrils twitching.
Recognizing Santiago’s scent, she whined softly.
With a low woof, he rubbed his body against hers, and then ran off into the night.
With a joyful bark, she followed him.
It was a strange feeling. She knew, on some deep level, that she was Regan Delaney, but it didn’t seem to matter. For now, for this night, she was a wolf, as wild and unfettered as her feral brothers and sisters. She was a wolf, and she loved it. She saw things, heard things, and smelled things, that the human part of Regan Delaney would never experience or understand.
When the black wolf flushed a rabbit from the underbrush, she bounded after it, jaws snapping. There was no revulsion in the kill, none when she sank her teeth into the soft, still-warm flesh.
She wagged her tail when the black wolf trotted up to her side, snarled a warning for him to back off when he nosed the kill. It was hers and she wouldn’t share.
Later, they ran side by side through the night, playing tag, jumping deadfalls, and splashing through a shallow stream. Why had she been afraid of this? She had never felt so alive, so free!
Hours later, she was following Santiago back to the cave when the unmistakable scent of man reached her nostrils. In that instant, the beast rose up within her and Regan Delaney ceased to exist, swallowed up in the sudden, overwhelming need for flesh—human flesh.
She veered sharply to the right, following the scent to a campfire where two warriors sat sharing a pipe.
Dropping to her belly, she crept closer to the campsite, her heart pounding in anticipation, her mouth watering. Power swelled within her, thrumming through every fiber of her body. The moon was high in the sky and she was invincible.
She drew in a deep breath, her nostrils filling with the scent of prey. The rabbit she had consumed had been sweet. The taste of human flesh would be sweeter still.
In an instant, Santiago shifted back to his own form. He sprang forward when the wolf did, his arms closing around her, bearing her down to the ground.
Jaws snapping, she turned on him, her only thought to dine on human flesh. His or that of the other two men, it didn’t matter. She needed it, wanted it, could think of nothing else.
She growled her anger as she attempted to tear out Santiago’s throat, but even as a werewolf, she was no match for his ancient preternatural speed or strength. He clamped one hand around her jaws, rendering her helpless as he carried her back to the cave.
Inside, he held her imprisoned in his arms until the sun chased the moon from the sky.
She cried out in pain as her body assumed its own shape once more and hid her face against his shoulder in shame as her humanity returned and she found herself naked in Santiago’s arms.
“You should have killed me,” she murmured.
“Was it that bad? What do you remember?”
“I remember all of it.” She recalled her initial joy as she ran through the forest, all her senses alive. She had received stimuli through her eyes, e
ars, nose, and the pads of her feet. But then the darkness had come, blinding her to everything but the impulse to kill the Indians sitting at the campfire. It had been an urge she could not resist. Worse, she hadn’t wanted to resist it. Had she been able, she would have killed the Indians and savaged their flesh. Had she been able, she was afraid she would have killed Santiago, as well.
She sighed. So it hadn’t been all bad. In fact, some of it had been enjoyable. If it wasn’t for the overpowering urge to kill, she might have embraced being a werewolf. But the bad far outweighed the good.
“I can’t live like this,” she said dully. “What am I going to do when you’re not around to stop me?” She remembered all too clearly what she had read about werewolves; how, once they had tasted human blood, they were beyond redemption, their souls dammed for all eternity. While she had never been big on religion, she did believe in heaven and hell.
“You can come to my lair when the moon is full,” he said. “I will lock you inside from moonrise to sunrise.”
“I don’t want to be locked up once a month, like some kind of…of…” Her voice grew very soft. “Monster.”
“We can keep looking for a cure.”
“And what if there isn’t one? What if there never was one?”
“You will learn to control the change, in time, as I have learned to control my hunger.”
“And how long did that take you?”
“A long time,” he admitted ruefully.
She wriggled out of his arms. “I need to get dressed.”
“Not on my account, I hope,” he muttered with a wry grin.
Turning her back to him, Regan rummaged through her pack, then went into the back of the cave to dress. She would have to remember to undress in the future, she thought, or she would be spending a lot of money replacing the clothing she ruined during the change.
She didn’t know what embarrassed her more, her actions of the previous night or finding herself naked in Santiago’s arms. Of course, embarrassing was hardly the right word to describe what she had almost done last night. Horrifying was more like it. And what about tonight? Would she shift again, or did the moon have power over her only one night a month? That wouldn’t be so bad, she thought, and then swore softly. Not so bad? What was she thinking? She could do a lot of damage in one night.
Her stomach growled as she pulled on her shoes. The fact that she was hungry surprised her. Returning to the main part of the cave, she opened a can of soup and warmed it over the coals.
Santiago regarded her through narrowed eyes as she sat down to eat. If being a new werewolf was anything like being a new vampire, then the worst was behind her. All things considered, she had handled it fairly well, although she was still unsettled by the experience. But then, who could blame her? Becoming a werewolf had to be a shock, physically and emotionally.
He didn’t want to leave her alone but the sun was climbing high in the sky and the Dark Sleep was calling to him. He would have to rest sooner or later…and he would have to rest here. He had lingered too long, and the sun was too high for him to risk going outside.
He grunted softly, wondering what she would think when he told her he was going to have to spend the rest of the day in the back of the cave, then shrugged it off. She had shared a motel room with him; this was no different.
Regan muttered, “do whatever you have to,” when Santiago told her he would be taking his rest in the back of the cavern. Truth be told, she was glad that he would be nearby. She didn’t want to be alone and, even though he wouldn’t be much company while he slept, it would still be nice to know he was there.
He drew her into his arms. “Will you be all right?”
She made a vague gesture with her hand. “Sure.” What did she have to be afraid of now? Her worst nightmare had become reality.
He regarded her for a moment, then made his way to the back of the cavern.
Regan watched him until he was out of sight and then, leaving the cave, she sat down under a tree and let the tears fall.
Just when you thought life couldn’t get any worse, it did.
For the first time in her life, she had fallen head over heels in love. Was he a doctor or a pilot or a lawyer? No, he was a vampire.
And now, if that wasn’t bad enough, she was a werewolf.
The cosmic Fates must be rolling on the floor laughing their collective fannies off. She just wished she could find some humor in the situation. She had heard of life-altering experiences before, but this! She shook her head. How was she supposed to adjust to something like this?
She picked up a blade of grass and twirled it between her thumb and forefinger. She would never be able to have children now, and if she did, they probably wouldn’t be children at all, but puppies. Maybe a whole litter of them!
A laugh bubbled up in her throat. She could tell Santiago she loved him now. She could even marry him. She wouldn’t have to worry about getting pregnant, because vampires couldn’t reproduce. Life just kept getting funnier and funnier, she thought bitterly. Yes sir, her life must be the cosmic joke of the century.
She laughed and laughed, and then she buried her face in her hands and wept for what she had become, for all that she had lost…
She woke with a start. Not knowing what had roused her so abruptly, she sat up, a shiver of unease running down her spine. She wasn’t alone. She knew it without knowing how she knew. It couldn’t be Santiago. The sun was still in the sky. Afraid of what she might see, she glanced warily over her shoulder.
The spirit wolf stood a foot or so away, watching her.
Regan stared back. “Hello, Pahin Sapa. You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”
The wolf barked, and then smiled a wolfish smile.
“Did you come to keep me company again?” she asked, scooting around so that she could see him better.
The wolf bobbed his head up and down.
“I’m glad,” she said, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. “I could use some company.”
With a low whine, the wolf trotted forward and dropped down beside her, its hazel eyes focused on her face. Once again, she heard the wolf’s voice in her mind. There is another cure, though you must be brave to obtain it.
“At this point, I’m willing to do anything.”
You must find the werewolf who bit you and destroy him with your own hand. His death will free you.
Kill Vasile? How could she accomplish what Santiago, with all his supernatural powers, had been unable to achieve? “Is there no other way?”
Not now.
“Then I’ll just have to find a way to do it.”
It will be easiest when the moon is not full.
“Thank you, Pahin Sapa.”
With a low woof, the wolf bounded to its feet and disappeared into the trees.
Regan stared after the wolf. Destroy Vasile. That’s all she had to do. All, she thought with a shake of her head. She could hardly wait to tell Santiago, and then she frowned. Santiago had been hunting Vasile for hundreds of years. How would he feel when she told him she had to destroy the werewolf? Surely Santiago would understand. Regardless of who killed him, Vasile would be just as dead. After all, what was more important? That she destroy Vasile and get her life back, or that Santiago destroy the werewolf to avenge Marishka’s death?
Returning to the cave, she paused inside the entrance, her eagerness to go home momentarily overcome by her curiosity. Santiago was asleep in the back of the cavern…
Moving quietly, she went deeper into the narrow passage, her blood pounding in her ears. What did he look like when he was trapped in the Dark Sleep? Did he look like he was dead, or merely sleeping? Would he be angry if she spied on him? Would he even know she was there?
She stopped at the place where the cavern veered to the left, her heart in her throat. Just one look, she thought. What could it hurt?
Holding her breath, she peered around the cave wall, her eyes straining to see through the gloom—but there was not
hing to see, no sign of Santiago. Frowning, she entered the small chamber. Where was he?
Returning to the main chamber, she looked outside. The sun was low in the sky. Wherever he had gone, he would be rising soon—and so would the moon. How had she forgotten that?
A shiver of unease ran through her at the thought of shifting again. She had purposefully refused to think of it earlier, but now she couldn’t put it from her mind. She recalled all too clearly the fear and the pain as her body transformed.
Tonight, if she felt herself shifting, she would ask Santiago to leave the cave so she could undress before the transformation began. Of course, he’d already seen all there was to see.
With that thought in mind, she turned away from the cave’s entrance and let out a shriek of surprise when she found herself face to face with the master of the city.
“Damn!” she exclaimed, “where did you come from?”
“Back there,” he replied, gesturing behind him.
“But I looked just a few minutes ago…”
“I did not wish to be seen.”
“Oh.” She stared up at him, frowning. Did that mean he had been there and she just couldn’t see him, or did it mean he had hidden somewhere, although she couldn’t for the life of her think where he could have hidden. And then she remembered that he sometimes hid in the earth. But none of that mattered right now.
Santiago listened quietly as Regan told him about the shaman’s appearance. He wondered why it hadn’t occurred to him that destroying Vasile would break the curse of the werewolf. Of course, he had always thought it was just a myth similar to the one that said if you destroyed a vampire, all those he had brought across would die with him. But perhaps Pahin Sapa was right, and they had nothing to lose by trying, since destroying Vasile had long been Santiago’s goal. The one drawback was that Regan had to kill the werewolf. He told himself it didn’t matter who destroyed Vasile as long as it was done, but he knew he was lying to himself. He had waited centuries to kill the werewolf. How could he let another, even Regan, accomplish what he himself yearned to do?