Logan nodded. Two of their subjects had reverted to being human without any apparent side effects.

“Pearl worked extremely hard on the new serum,” Edna said, somewhat indignantly. “We both did. And to see all those hours of work wasted . . .” She shook her head, her eyes flashing red.

“Do you have any more?” Mara asked.

Pearl shook her head. “No. So, what do we do now?”

“Whatever you want,” Mara said. “I’ll be in touch if we need you again.”

“But . . .” Edna looked to Pearl for help.

“Enough!” Mara’s voice cracked like a pistol shot. “Be gone, both of you!”

Before Edna could argue, Pearl grabbed her friend by the hand. “Let’s go, dear,” she said, and whisked her out of the castle.

“I can’t help but echo the old broad’s words,” Logan drawled. “What now?”

“We do as planned. We’ll lock Derek in the dungeon and keep Sheree away from him, and hope for . . .” Mara whirled around as Sheree ran into the hall.

Sheree skidded to a halt, one hand pressed to her heart. “He’s gone!”

“Gone?” Mara sent an anxious glance at Logan, then looked back at Sheree. “Gone where?”

“I don’t know! One minute we were talking and the next I was alone.”

Logan glanced at the window. “The moon hasn’t even risen yet.”

“Where would he go?” Sheree asked, worry for her own safety swallowed up in her concern for Derek.

“I don’t know.” Mara lifted her head, scenting the air. “He’s not in the castle.”

“But you can find him, can’t you?” Sheree asked anxiously.

Logan looked at his wife askance. “Can you?”

“Of course!” Mara snapped.

“Whoa, girl,” he said, his voice harsher than Sheree had ever heard it. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Mara cocked her head to the side. “He’s hunting in town.”

Sheree bit down on her lower lip. Why had he gone to town on this, of all nights? It wasn’t safe for the people there. It wasn’t safe for him.

There had been numerous stories about werewolves circulating through the towns and villages since Derek had attacked the farmer. People from one end of the country to the other were suddenly reporting sightings of werewolves. Curfews had been set. Parents hurried their children inside as soon as the sun went down. Rewards were being offered for the head of the creature. Numerous large dogs and feral wolves had been killed by spooked citizens.

Sheree sank onto the sofa, her worry for her husband increasing with every passing moment. Unable to shake off a growing sense of doom, she rose and began to pace the floor.

“What’s wrong?” Mara asked, quickly picking up on Sheree’s distress.

“I don’t know.” Sheree went to the window and stared into the darkness. Where was he? “What if there are other werewolves out there?” Older, stronger? “What if . . . ?”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Mara assured her. “Last time I was here, the vampires had chased all the werewolves out of the country.”

“What about all the stories of recent sightings?”

“Fear mongering,” Mara said, but she sounded less certain than before.

Logan moved up behind his wife and slid his arms around her waist. “Maybe we should go look for him.”

Mara leaned against him. “Not yet. For now, we wait.”

“If you don’t mind,” Sheree said. “I think I’ll wait in my room.”

Mara dismissed her with a wave of her hand.

“Don’t leave the castle,” Logan warned.

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Sheree assured him. She ran up the stairs, tears stinging her eyes. Why had Derek left so abruptly? Why hadn’t he told her where he was going? Why hadn’t he taken her with him?

Frightened for Derek, she paced the floor, then threw herself onto the bed and buried her face in his pillow. His scent filled her nostrils, reminding her of every minute they had spent together—nights filled with passion, the sound of his voice whispering that he loved her, the surprisingly sensual pleasure of his bite, the strength of his arms around her, the sheer wonder of what he was.

Sheree.

She lifted her head at the sound of his voice. “Derek? Derek, are you all right?”

I need you.

Where are you?

Near where we dumped the serum. Come alone. Hurry!

How will I get out of the castle without being seen?

Go down the back stairs at the end of the corridor, turn right, and go out through the kitchen. Hurry, love.

Spurred by the urgency in Derek’s voice, Sheree hurried out of her room and down the old stone stairway once used by castle servants.

She paused at the back door. What was she doing, rushing out into the night to meet Derek when the moon was rising?

Sheree? His voice was filled with pain, touched with panic.

How could she refuse when he obviously needed her?

Taking her courage in hand, she stepped outside.

The rain had turned to mist. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Her enemy, the moon, peeked through the lowering clouds.

As fast as she could, she made her way up the side of the mountain. She was panting by the time she reached the top.

Derek was waiting for her. Even in the dark, she could see the shiny wet stain on the front of his shirt.

“You’re hurt!”

“Yeah. Dammit!” Grabbing her by the waist, he shoved her to the ground. “They’re coming!”

“Who?”

“Hunters! Shit! Stay down!”

Heart pounding, Sheree pressed herself to the ground. She had expected Derek to drop down beside her. She glanced up when she heard him groan, felt her eyes widen as he began to transform in front of her.

Murmuring, “No, oh, no,” she watched in horror as he dropped to his hands and knees, his body writhing, stretching as bones popped and ligaments realigned themselves. His clothes shredded, exposing the thick black fur sprouting from his skin.

Throwing back his head, he howled in pain as he fought against the change.

The heart-wrenching howl, the sight of Derek caught between human and werewolf, sent chills racing down Sheree’s spine.

“Up there!” A man’s shout cut through the night. “I see him!”

No, Sheree thought, her blood turning to ice. Oh, no, please no!

Caught in the throes of the change, the werewolf snarled at the three heavily armed men closing in on him.




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