Blood Wager (Blood Destiny 1)

"I'm a nurse at the hospital in Corpus," Kathy Jo approached and held out her hand. She was around five-six and slender, with long, straight dark hair. She was pretty, too. I shook her hand, wondering why Winkler had brought her in.

"Kathy Jo knows how to give massages," Winkler was grinning at me, answering my silent question. "You're moving pretty stiff there, so we thought we'd see if a massage helped."

I wanted to roll my eyes but thought better of it. Kathy Jo didn't deserve my sarcasm. I didn't even know her yet. She had lotion and a variety of massage oils in the bag she'd brought with her and asked me to get undressed.

"Winkler," I nodded toward the door.

"I saw every bit of what you have already," he was still grinning.

"I wasn't awake to lodge a protest when you saw it," I pointed out.

"Werewolves lose their modesty pretty fast," Kathy Jo informed me as she pushed me toward the bed. "Now get undressed."

"Not a werewolf, and I'm sure you noticed that already," I said. The good news was that my red lines were fading to pale pink now and barely visible. I was hoping they'd disappear, at least before the Council's Enforcers or Assassins came to call. I wanted to look my best when I died for the last time.

"I did notice. Doesn't bother me a bit," Kathy Jo smiled. "I met some very nice vampires about three years ago. Worked with them a little, too. You don't scare me. Besides, Winkler told me you almost made the ultimate sacrifice for the Grand Master. I don't know of any other vampire who'd do that."

I was hoping fervently that she didn't correspond daily with any of those vampires or I was dead meat. Or ash, or whatever it was I'd be when the Council got done with me.

"Your secret's safe," Winkler assured me as Kathy Jo pulled my top over my head.

"Your body is somewhat the same, but your cells are denser and more closely packed so your skin is harder to pierce," Kathy Jo informed me as she rubbed knots and sore muscles. "I'm hoping that by stimulating the muscles, the poison still in your system will drain out of it faster. Someone told me that your body reacts to werewolf saliva in the same way that a human body produces histamines in reaction to something it's allergic to. Did you know that your tears—a vampire's tears, that is, are almost clear blood serum and not water?"

"Wow," I said.

"A vampire's tears would likely taste good to another vampire," she told me.

"Good information to have," I said, my voice a little wobbly as she worked on my shoulders. Winkler leaned against the wall while I received my massage, apparently enjoying the show.

I did feel better after Kathy Jo was done with me and I thanked her for the help. What I didn't know was that Daryl had arrived and was waiting inside the beach house for Winkler and me. Kathy Jo came in with us so she was introduced to Daryl. If I'd ever seen a case of love at first sight, I think I saw it then. Daryl was fawning all over Kathy Jo, who I learned was a widow. Her husband had been killed three years earlier, after they'd been married six months. I knew that pain, all right. Daryl looked me over, seemed quite happy with my apparent health and promptly took Kathy Jo out to dinner.

"Well, there you go," Winkler muttered as Daryl and Kathy Jo walked out the door together. "Shirley was all over the males down here, forcing them to back off so Kathy Jo could make up her mind on her next mate. And there I thought Daryl and Whitney would be good together."

"Daryl's too old for Whitney," I looked at Winkler. "She's still young and she needs that youth that Sam has."

"Do you know how old I am?" he asked, his eyes searching my face.

"No. Daryl told me he was forty-eight."

"I'm eighty-four," Winkler said, shocking me a little. "Whitney was a late-life baby for my mother. My father was the Dallas Packmaster before me. Do you know what that means?"

I went perfectly still. The term challenge came to me then and I knew this was going to be bad. "You had to challenge your own father?" My voice was barely a whisper.

"He demanded it," Winkler paced a little, his hands doing a nervous rake through his hair. "And he didn't even fight that hard. He was old—nearly a hundred and sixty and that's old for a Packmaster. Phil was just about to challenge him and dad was worried about Whitney and me. My baby sister was eleven at the time. We were all concerned that Phil would take her if he took the Pack. I wasn't about to let that happen so I took down my own father. Mom killed herself three days later with a bottle of pills."

"Geez, Winkler, that's awful," I said. "Sit down honey. Maybe you should have gotten Kathy Jo to give you that rub instead of me." I almost had to push Winkler into a seat at the breakfast table.

"Lissa, I know I have you over a barrel, not only because you don't have legitimate ID but now you know I could turn you over to the Council at any time." Winkler stared up at me. "The truth is, you're the best thing that's happened around here in a long while. Phil's a devoted Second now, just as he was for dad. And Davis and Glen would make good Seconds in any Pack. Phil would have taken over, Lissa, if you hadn't found me in the wheat field that night. I would have run out of air. The kidnappers drugged me when they caught me—shot me with a tranquilizer that would have brought down an elephant. Werewolf metabolism is fast so the drug didn't kill me, but lack of air would have. Phil would be in charge of the Dallas Pack and he would have forced Whitney to marry him. It would be his right as Packmaster."

"Winkler, look at me," I sat back down, taking his hand. "Phil doesn't need to be in charge of anything. There's something wrong with him and I'm not saying that because he shot me in the back three times. I thought that before then. And I would have killed him myself before I'd let him have Whitney."

Winkler blinked a few times before nodding—he appreciated the fact that I'd have protected his sister. But Winkler was werewolf, through and through. "Phil has been a good Second, Lissa," he defended Phil for that. "I disciplined him after he shot you while trying to hit Sam. He expected the discipline and accepted it. That whole incident was too soon after the full moon. Our tempers and emotions flare that entire week."

"Must be hard to deal with, at times," I said.

"It is. We don't schedule anything important during that week if we can help it."

"It was quite the surprise when I figured out what all of you were," I muttered. "And right in the middle of five hundred werewolves on top of that. Daryl thought it was funny."