Moments later, the door of the cottage opened and a man emerged, a lamp in his hand. “Who’s there?” he called, peering into the darkness. “Is anyone there?”
When the dog continued barking, the man walked toward the sheep pen.
The other dog was awake now. Vasile quickly dispatched them both while Stefan stalked the villager.
The man never knew what hit him.
Chapter 26
Regan woke knowing that the moon would be full that night. It was something she had dreaded every night. Filled with a sense of apprehension and with her nerves on edge, she skipped breakfast and had a thick chocolate malt for lunch. She cleaned house with a vengeance, straightened the kitchen cupboards, did her laundry, and washed her car.
She went out for an early dinner and ordered a steak, rare, and ate it with gusto, even as she was inwardly repulsed.
Shortly before dusk, she changed into a pair of old sweats and sandals and drove to Santiago’s lair in the Byways.
He was at the door waiting for her when she arrived.
He stood back, allowing her entrance, then closed the door and keyed in the lock code.
“So,” she said. “What do we do now?”
“Whatever you wish. I can lock you in my lair, or we can drive out to the country and you can run under the moon. The choice is yours.”
The thought of being locked in the vampire’s lair, with his coffin, gave her the creeps. “Do we have time to get out of the city before the moon rises?”
He nodded. “Is that what you wish to do?”
“I think so.” As she said the words, she was surprised to find she was looking forward to running through the night. In spite of her revulsion at being a werewolf, there was an undeniable thrill to being a wolf, a sense of freedom that she had never known before.
Santiago took her in his arms, one hand stroking her back, her hair.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “Shouldn’t we be leaving?”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “I will carry you there.”
Before she could question him further, they were out of the city.
Regan turned in a slow circle. They were in a heavily wooded area. Tall trees surrounded her on every side. For all she knew, they could have been hundreds of miles from the nearest town.
“Where are we?”
“A wild animal sanctuary outside of Clanton.” Clanton was a large metropolis about eighty miles from the city.
“I’ve heard of this place. People aren’t allowed in here.”
Santiago glanced at the sky. “In a moment, there will not be any people here.”
Even as he spoke the words, Regan felt the familiar but unwelcome burning sensation that signaled the onset of the change. She looked at Santiago, who sensed what was happening and obligingly turned his back to her. Hands shaking, she threw off her top and stepped out of her sandals and sweatpants. She hadn’t bothered with a bra or panties.
She howled with pain as the werewolf took control of her body, transforming her nails into claws and her skin into fur. Her bones stretched and shifted until the change was complete. She howled again, this time with triumph, as she bounded into the darkness, her nose testing the wind for prey.
Quickly shifting into wolf form, Santiago ran after her. He had long ago accepted his existence as a vampire. He reveled in his preternatural powers and strength and his expanded senses, but there was something about being a wolf that surpassed even that. There was a wildness, a sense of freedom and exultation that was unmatched in any other form.
He soon overtook Regan and fell in alongside her.
And the fun began.
They flushed a red fox, a couple of deer, a bull moose, a pair of coyotes, and a jackrabbit.
Regan went after the rabbit.
Santiago watched her with a wolfish grin as she gave chase, laughed inwardly when the rabbit eluded her snapping jaws by diving into a hole. Lifting her head, she howled her frustration to the moon and the stars.
He saw her stiffen as an answering cry was borne to her on the wind. Moments later, three wolves materialized out of the shadows. Fangs bared, hackles raised, they walked stiff-legged toward her.
Santiago went to stand beside Regan, his own hackles raised, a snarl rising in his throat. It was obvious from their stance that the wolves meant to fight.
Santiago swore inwardly. Why hadn’t he realized there would be wild wolves here and that they would be protective of their territory? He never should have brought Regan here, but it was too late now.
She pressed herself against him as the wolves closed in. Santiago spoke to her mind, telling her not to be afraid, and not to run, but to stand her ground, and then he moved forward to confront the alpha male.
Growling, they circled each other. Santiago felt his blood run hot at the prospect of a fight. He let the alpha male attack first and then, with savage fury, he lashed out. Even so, he held back, not wanting to kill the other wolf. He bit down hard on the wolf’s left flank, his mouth filling with the warm coppery taste of blood. Animal blood was never as satisfying as human blood, but now, in the heat of battle, it tasted like the sweetest elixir.
It wasn’t until he heard Regan’s cry that he realized the other two wolves had attacked her. Enraged, he quickly disabled the alpha male, then went to Regan’s defense, but there was no need. She fought like one possessed, biting and snapping until the two females tucked their tails between their legs and ran off. Limping badly, the male followed.
Tail wagging, Regan pranced toward Santiago. She circled him, then rolled onto her back, whining softly.
Santiago licked the blood from her face, stifling the urge to mate as he did so. Even in wolf form, blood and desire were closely linked, but he restrained himself, certain that Regan would be outraged.
With a yip, he backed off, his tail wagging.
Regan rolled to her feet and trotted off into the forest.
After a moment, Santiago followed.
The rest of the night passed quickly. They chased each other through the woods, dined on a deer that Regan brought down, slept beside a shallow stream.
Santiago woke when he felt dawn’s approach, his body automatically shifting to its natural form. Regan had done likewise while she slept. He spent a moment simply looking at her, admiring the sheer beauty of her body, the rise and fall of her breasts, the softness of her skin, the wealth of her hair, the shapely length of her legs, her narrow waist, and the curve of her hips. His fingertips brushed her cheek, caressed her throat, slid over her shoulder.
Muttering an oath, he jerked his hand away. He had no right to touch her, should be ashamed of himself for the lustful thoughts tumbling through his mind.
Aware that the sun would soon be rising, he gathered Regan into his arms and raced back to his lair in the Byways. He arrived just as the sun rose over the horizon, felt its deadly heat on his back as he ducked into the building and slammed the door.
Once inside, he went into the bedroom. He settled Regan in his bed and pulled the blankets over her. It was a shame to cover such beauty, he thought, thinking that he would love to crawl in beside her and gather her into his arms, to hold her and make slow, sweet love to her until his body demanded that he succumb to the Dark Sleep.
A soft sigh escaped her lips. Was she dreaming of him? Unable to resist, he slid into her mind and smiled at what he saw…
They were walking through a forest much like the one they had just left. She wore a sleeveless white sundress that fluttered in the breeze. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders, shimmering in the sun like a veil of gold silk. She looked up at him, her eyes aglow with love and desire.
A waterfall appeared ahead and she ran toward it, beckoning him to join her. At the pool, she shed her clothing and slipped into the water. Shedding his own garments, he dove in after her. For a time, they cavorted under the waterfall like carefree children. She let out a shriek when a fish brushed against her foot. Moving closer to the shore, she spla
shed him and then swam away, laughing. He immediately gave chase. She squealed with mock terror when he caught her, her body writhing against his as she struggled to free herself. Her skin was slick and smooth, her breasts warm and firm against his chest, firing his desire and he took her there, in the shallows near the edge of the pool, slaking his lust for her sweet flesh even as he bent his head and surrendered to the desire for her life’s blood…
Regan woke with a cry of denial on her lips, her eyes widening when she saw Santiago standing beside the bed. “Did you…?”
He shook his head. “It was only a dream.” He studied the expression on her face. “Or perhaps a nightmare.”
“Whose dream?” she asked. “Yours or mine?”
He lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “It started as yours.”
“How can you do that?” she demanded angrily. “How can you be in my dreams? How can you twist them to suit you?” She started to sit up; then, realizing she was naked beneath the sheet, she pulled the blankets up higher, her eyes shooting angry sparks at him.
“It is just another of my powers.”
“What else can you do? What else have you done to me?”
“I can hypnotize you. I can bend your will to mine. I can erase whatever memories you have of me from your mind and your heart.”
Her eyes widened. “Have you ever done any of those things to me?”
“No.”
She looked skeptical.
“Trust me, Regan. I would not lie to you.”
“I don’t have much choice, do I?”
“I will never betray you, or defile you, or lie to you,” he said, though he knew there would likely be times in the days ahead when, for one reason or another, he would refrain from telling her the whole truth.
“I believe you.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took one of her hands in his. “How do you feel?” He loved being near her, touching her, feeling the warmth of her skin.
“I feel all right. Why? Is something wrong? Did something happen last night?”
“No.”
Holding the blanket to her chest, she sat up. “I had fun last night,” she remarked, her voice barely audible. “How can that be? I don’t want to be a werewolf. I don’t want to get used to it.”
“Would that be so bad?”
She snorted softly. “Would you want to marry a werewolf?”
His gaze moved over her face, lingering on her lips and the line of her throat. “I would not mind.”
She shook her head. “My grandmother said true happiness can only be found when like marries like. Birds don’t marry fish, dogs don’t marry cats.”
“We are alike,” he said fervently. “Both cursed, or blessed, depending on your point of view.”
“Joaquin…”
He cupped her cheek in his palm, his thumb stroking back and forth. “Forgive me. I know you want a home and a family, a normal life.”
She nodded, tears stinging her eyes.
“I will do my best to see that you have everything you want.” Leaning forward, he brushed a kiss across her lips. “And now I must go and take my rest.”
She nodded again, her throat tight with unshed tears. Somehow, she would find Vasile and put an end to the curse that plagued her. She only wished that Santiago could do the same.
Chapter 27
“You’re leaving?” Zina exclaimed. “Where are you going?”
“To the States,” Vasile snapped. “I’m leaving in the morning.”
“You’ve been here less than a month.”
“So?”
“I had expected you to stay longer.”
He shrugged impatiently. “I have unfinished business to attend to.”
Zina’s eyes flashed angrily. “That woman?”
Vasile nodded. “I told you I intended to make her my mate; have you forgotten?”
“No.” She lifted her head proudly. “I have not forgotten. But you have a duty to me, now. I want you to stay until I’m pregnant.”
Vasile stared at her, his eyes narrowed. He started to admonish her for her audacity, but on what grounds? He had married her to conceive a child and the task was not yet done. Perhaps it was his fault. Lying with a woman for whom he had no real affection had proved more difficult than he had expected.
Annoyed with himself and angry with her, he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into the bedroom, determined that she would be gravid before the next full moon.
Chapter 28
Michael Flynn stared into the half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand. He had spent the last hour trying to understand what Regan saw in that bloodsucking bastard Santiago—and trying to figure out how the former master of the city had slipped through the barrier that surrounded the park. He had reported the fact to his superiors, who had assured him they would look into the matter.
Michael had spent the last few nights staking out the vampire’s condo, hoping to catch Santiago leaving the park; unfortunately, there had been no sign of Santiago, causing Michael to wonder if the vampire had left town. Of course, leaving the city without notifying the authorities was also against the law.
He wondered suddenly if the fact that the murders had stopped abruptly had anything to do with the vampire’s disappearance, and then wondered why the devil he hadn’t considered the possibility before. Was Santiago the killer? He swore softly. Wouldn’t that peel the hide off the hog?
Draining his glass, Michael ordered another drink. He had been in love with Regan since the day he met her. They had both been working at the time, and there had been nothing the least bit romantic about the circumstances, but later that night, while they were filling out reports, he had asked her out for coffee and they had spent a pleasant hour unwinding and getting acquainted. They had dated on and off since that time; in the last year, neither of them had dated anyone else. Michael had been thinking about asking Regan to marry him at the upcoming department Christmas party. But that had been before Joaquin Santiago arrived on the scene.
Once again, Flynn asked himself what she saw in the vampire. He couldn’t believe she was serious about the creep. Fascinated, maybe. After all, vampires were rumored to have some sort of supernatural charm that mortals found hard to resist.
Michael glanced at his surroundings. What the hell was he doing in a dive like this? Muttering an oath, he tossed off his drink. He should just go on home, he thought morosely. There was nothing for him here—and nothing for him there.
He was about to order another drink when a woman sat down beside him. Her perfume surrounded him, cutting through the cloud of smoke and perspiration that hung in the air. Her hair was the vivid red of a sunset, her eyes were the deepest, brightest shade of blue he had ever seen. And her mouth…it could only belong to an angel—or a temptress.
Feeling his gaze, she looked over at him and smiled, displaying even white teeth.
Michael swallowed hard. He had never been shy around women; in college, he’d had a reputation for being a ladies’ man. But this woman, clad in a skintight black dress and black stiletto heels, made him feel like a callow youth.
She smiled at him again. “Would you like to dance?”
The thought of holding her in his arms had him suddenly believing in Santa Claus. Rising, he offered her his hand.
The dance floor was small and crowded, but Michael wasn’t aware of anything or anyone but the woman whose body was pressed intimately against his own. He could feel every feminine curve. No doubt she was equally aware of his body’s response to her nearness.
“Do you come here often?” he asked, thinking that if she said yes, he was going to be spending a lot of time here himself.
“No, this is my first time.” Her gaze devoured him. “Perhaps it was fate that brought me here tonight. Do you believe in fate?”
“I never did before.” He studied her face, thinking she looked vaguely familiar.
She laughed, a deep sexy laugh that brushed over his skin like velvet over sandpaper. “
Have you a name?”
“Michael.”
“Hello, Michael,” she purred. “I’m Tatiana.”
Chapter 29
Santiago wandered the dark streets of the city. A week had passed since the night of the full moon. He had not seen Regan since then. Though he longed for her company, it seemed wiser to stay away. She had made it clear that in spite of her affection for him, he was not what she wanted. Which was too bad, he mused, because she was exactly what he wanted. Human or werewolf, it didn’t matter. He loved her as he had never thought to love again, yearned for her with every fiber of his being, ached to take her in his arms and possess her fully and completely.
He muttered an oath as he turned a corner. He could take her by force. He could bend her will to his, make her want him and no other, make her forget she had ever wanted anything or anyone else, but what kind of love would that be? He wanted her love, freely given, he wanted her to need him with every breath in her body, every beat of her heart. All or nothing, he thought, and knew he would have to settle for nothing. He would be there for her when the moon was full for as long as she needed him. He would help her find and destroy Vasile. And then he would never see her again.
Santiago paused in front of the nightclub at the end of the street. The place was a dive, one of many in this part of the city. He had come here on occasion, sometimes just to pass a quiet night, sometimes to hunt for prey.
For a moment, he listened to the slow, heavy beat of the music spilling out into the night and then he went inside.
He stood inside the doorway for a moment, his gaze quickly perusing the room and its occupants, and then he grinned, amused by the sight of Michael Flynn dancing with Tatiana. It was obvious, even from a distance, that the cop was thoroughly smitten. But then, who could blame him? Tatiana was perhaps the most blatantly beautiful and sensual female Santiago had ever known. In days long past, they had relied on each other for companionship. They had hunted together and taken their rest together and occasionally, on a long and lonely night, they had found solace in each other’s arms, but then Santiago had met Marishka, and Tatiana had decided to go off and see the world.