Dead Sexy

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, ears, 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.