Dead Sexy

"So, I think we should head back home right now," Regan said. She moved through the cave, gathering her things together and stuffing them into her pack. She frowned when he didn't say anything. "Don't you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Some werewolves only change at the full moon, some also change the night before, as well, and some the night after. If you start to shift while we are riding down the mountain, it is likely to spook the horses, don't you think?"

"Very funny. I hate this! I don't want to change again. Do you think I'll change again?"

"We will know soon enough."

She began to pace back and forth. "Do you think we'll be able to find Vasile?"

"We will find him."

"What if he's left the country?"

"We will find him," Santiago repeated softly but emphatically. "Do not forget, he is also looking for me."

"I know but…"

"Regan," he murmured. "Worrying will solve nothing."

"But…"

Moving quickly, he put his arms around her and drew her close. "I am with you," he said quietly. "Trust me."

She gazed up at him, everything else forgotten as she looked into his eyes, deep blue eyes that glowed with an inner fire, a fire that flared even hotter as he lowered his head and kissed her.

As always, the touch of his mouth on hers drove everything else from her mind until she saw only him, wanted only him. Her arms slid up around his neck, her body leaning into his like a lost lamb seeking shelter. A small, clinical part of her mind marveled that they fit together so well and then even that was forgotten as his hands moved over her—hot, eager hands that caressed her with exquisite tenderness. She moaned softly, her body writhing against his, yearning for more. Hungry for more. Why did he affect her like this? Why didn't Michael's kisses make her blood sing and her bones melt? She had tried to love Michael. He was a kind, decent, hardworking man. She had known him for several years, but the most she had ever felt for him was affection. Then, Joaquin Santiago showed up and all her good sense went flying out the window.

She slid her hands under his shirt, her greedy fingers moving lightly over his broad back. His skin was smooth and cool to the touch. Intoxicating. She had a crazy urge to rip his shirt off, to drag him down onto the floor of the cave, to explore the hard muscled length of his body pressing down on hers, to feel his mouth, hot and hungry, on hers.

He whispered her name, his voice filled with the same urgent longing that possessed her. Would it be so wrong to let him make love to her? They could never have a life together, but they could have this one night, this one fleeting moment in time. She needed him to make love to her, needed to know that this gorgeous man found her desirable, that she was still a woman and not a monster…

"Joaquin…"

"I am here."

She looked up at him, hoping he would see the desperate need in her eyes, that he would take her in his arms and make her forget…

Too late, too late. Groaning, she clutched her stomach as pain knotted her insides.

"Regan?"

"It's happening again!"

Twisting out of his arms, she quickly removed her shoes and began to shed her clothing.

Santiago stood back, watching, thinking what a rare and fascinating sight it was to watch her shift, her slight body shimmering like mist in the moonlight as the wolf emerged.

Hearing her cry out, he wished he could endure the pain for her, but he could only stand there, watching, marveling at the incredible transformation, until the woman was gone and the blond wolf stood in her stead.

She didn't bolt out of the cave this time, but looked up at him expectantly, her head cocked to one side. Waiting.

He smiled at her, and then he shifted. There was no pain for him. He had but to wish it and he became a wolf. Though he had, on occasion, assumed other shapes, the wolf form had always been his favorite.

Side by side, they trotted out of the cave.

As he had the night before, Santiago fell in behind her, content to follow her lead.

She ran for miles, effortlessly leaping over fallen logs and branches, bounding across a shallow stream, chasing a deer she spooked from a thicket. He grinned inwardly as she howled her frustration when the buck eluded her.

A short time later, she caught a jackrabbit, and still later she brought down a young doe. He hoped the excitement of the chase and the two kills would satisfy her. It was a myth that all werewolves were ravening monsters, unable to control the beast within them. True, they had to shift when the moon was full, but before their numbers decreased, most werewolves had hidden out in unpopulated areas, living in small groups, content to prey on wildlife. It was only those that had tasted human flesh who turned into uncontrollable monsters. Having once tasted human flesh, they were no longer content with anything else. They lived for the thrill of hunt, the chase, and the kill. It was werewolves like Vasile that had caused them to be hunted to near extinction. Unlike vampires, who had needed human blood to survive until the synthetic kind had been invented, werewolves could survive without human prey.

Regan paused at a stream to drink, then playfully nipped Santiago on the shoulder. He retaliated by nipping her on the hindquarters and the game was on. Like puppies, they rolled on the ground, mock growls rising in their throats as they tussled. Gaining her feet, she attacked him again, knocking him into the water. With a joyful bark, she splashed in after him and they chased each other along the shore until a fish caught her eye. With a yelp of excitement, she plunged into the river, emerging moments later with a fat trout in her jaws. She dropped it on the ground, shook the water from her fur, and then, giving him a wolfish grin of triumph, she devoured the fish, bones and all.

After a time, she dropped down onto the grass and rolled onto her side. Santiago stretched out beside her, idly licking drops of water from her face. They rested there for a while, until she sprang to her feet. She waved her tail in his face and the game began once again, with her leading him on a merry chase that he was content to follow. The water was cool, the night warm as they splashed along the shore, leaping from rock to rock and jumping over boulders. She chased a bullfrog until it dove into deeper water and took shelter behind a rock. She spent several minutes trying to dig it out before she gave up.

Sensing dawn's approach a short time later, Santiago scrambled up the bank, his nostrils testing the breeze. She made as if to attack him yet again, but he growled a warning. The time for play was past. He needed to return to the cave before the sun came up. She looked at him askance a moment and then, when he glanced at the sky, she understood.