"You thought you could catch me?" Hector stared at Jessie and the others, then shook his head. "I received not only the strength of a hundred wolves but also their senses. I can hear better, see farther, smell for miles. I can become anything or anyone. Jager-Suchers are no longer any match for me. Soon they will be no match for us, my darling Leigh."
I guess I didn't have to ask if he'd chowed down on his werewolf quota. I really needed to kill this guy.
If I didn't, he'd decimate not only the J-S ranks but the human population as well. Armageddon, thy name is Hector.
He stared at me strangely. Though the thought of what he had planned made a cold sweat break out on my body, I needed to pretend I was just like him. If I wasn't careful, he'd bite me again, and then I'd be in serious shit. Elise was gone, and no one here would be able to call her back.
I stood, crossed my arms over my breasts, then realized I had nothing left to cover my crotch and my back was on full display. Decisions, decisions.
"I don't suppose you have a towel?" I asked.
Hector frowned. Oops, wrong question.
Werewolves no doubt could care less if they were naked in the night. Smiling, I tried to remember what it had felt like to be attracted to him. He was a very handsome package, before the fur came out.
"I'm cold," I said. "Once I change, I'll be fine."
His eyes drifted over me. He licked his lips.
That phrase about skin crawling? It's not so much a phrase as a fact.
"I've dreamed of you," he murmured. "I've spent every night reliving our one night. It was never like that for me again. No matter who I screwed, who I killed, nothing, no one, made me feel like you did."
Gee, just what every girl longs to hear.
"I will take you as the change does. I will make you scream for more. You will forget the other one. He is nothing compared to me."
Hector took off his shirt and tossed it across the space between us. Though the garment smelled like him, the very scent making me light-headed, I slipped it over my shoulders and buttoned it to my chin. Being naked and thinking straight were two mutually exclusive conditions in my world.
Hector continued to disrobe, slipping off his pants and his shoes, too. His body was amazing - long, strong, supple skin over glistening muscles. I could see why I'd been tempted.
But hadn't my mother always told me pretty is as pretty does? I should have listened more carefully.
The moon shivered at the tops of the trees. Soon it would spill over and into the clearing. Once the light touched him, he would change. Once it touched me, I wouldn't. Then what would I do?
The brush rustled as the minion werewolves carried Damien into the clearing. He was still unconscious.
That couldn't be good. I expected them to tie him up anyway. Instead, a man and a woman stood on either side as guards; the rest moved away.
"Come. It is time."
The clearing filled with people. Each one stared at us as if expecting a show. Oh, right. They were.
My heart thundered. My skin tingled. I had a hard time focusing whenever Hector touched me, because my scar would flare like I'd been stuck with a red-hot poker. I didn't want to think about what I would feel if he accomplished what he had planned.
But he couldn't. I wasn't going to turn into a werewolf when they did, and pretty soon everyone would know it.
Hector stood next to Damien and beckoned. I had no choice but to go. When I reached Hector's side, his hand slid over my hip, dipped beneath the shirt, skidded over my ass. I fought not to flinch or gag. I was supposed to be a werewolf. I needed him to believe that, to trust me, or all of us would die. We'd probably die anyway, but at least I had to try.
Hector urged me to face him. His hands were everywhere beneath the material. Palm at my belly, then cupping my breast. His arousal pressed against me. He lowered his head and his mouth took mine. I forced myself to respond, open my lips, meet his tongue. I'd done this before - eagerly. It was fit punishment I should do so again before I died.
My back was in agony. My stomach roiled. My mind was frantic, searching for a way to kill him before he killed us all.
God, help me.
Hector yanked his mouth away, though his hands stayed right where they were. He leaned his forehead against mine. He was breathing heavily - the change or just plain lust. Maybe both.
"I am sorry, querida. You make me forget what we have come here to do."
"I thought we'd come here to do this?"
My throat tight with revulsion, my voice came out breathless and sexy, as if I wanted to do him right here on the ground. He smiled and touched my hair.
"Soon. But first..." He pointed to Damien.
Oh, hell. The sacrifice.
He turned away. I glanced at Jessie and the others. They would be no help. I stared down at Damien.
Big mistake. One look at him and I wanted to fall on the ground, cover his body with mine, protect him from whatever Hector had planned. But I couldn't.
"Here."
I turned. Hector held a gun in each hand. He offered one to me. Was he stupid?
I took it. He put the barrel of the other to my head. Nope, not stupid.
"What - ?" I began.
"The sacrifice. It is for you to make."
"Me?"
"Of course. Only by killing him can you truly put the past behind you. I made a mistake with Jimmy Renquist. You pined for him because you did not understand why he had to go. But this time you will kill your lover, and then you can forget him."
Was he insane?
Yes.
"Why the extra pistol?" I asked.
"I do not plan to leave anything to chance this time, querida. You will be mine. We will rule them all.
Tonight. But if you have managed to thwart my plan somehow, I will kill you. I may love you, but I love me more."
Wasn't that romantic?
I stared at Hector and weighed my options. I only had one. Kill him before he killed me. Snatch the other gun and blow away some of his pals. If I was going to die, I was going to take as many of them with me as I could.
Hector's pentagram tattoo gleamed slick and black as a tiny ray of moonlight trickled through the leaves.
It reminded me of something... something important. I lost the train of thought as he urged me to my knees with the gun at my temple.
Damien's eyes opened. He saw the gun, frowned, glanced up at Hector, and blinked. "Bull's-eye," he murmured.
And I remembered what Hector's tattoo reminded me of.
"Do it," Hector urged.
I spun and fired into the center of the pentagram, ducking as I did. I surprised him so completely he dropped the gun instead of blowing my brains out.
Not a single flame erupted from the wound. Hell, that wasn't right.
The moon skimmed over the tops of the trees. Hector howled, as did every other werewolf in the clearing. They began to change. Damien did, too.
I could shoot close to a dozen, but I decided to save my bullets. There were at least thirty in the clearing.
No telling what they'd do or who would need to be shot first.
Hector remained a man. Maybe the silver bullet in his chest prevented the change. It wasn't preventing anything else - like his breathing. I aimed the pistol at his head and Hector laughed.
"You think you can kill me with the usual weapons? I am far too powerful for that. I will heal anything."
As if he'd willed it, the bullet hole slid shut. Blood still glistened on his skin, black beneath the hunter's moon. Memories assaulted me. Another place, other bodies, different blood. Dizziness threatened, but I bit my lip, focusing on the pain until my vision cleared. For the ones who had gone before, for the future I could still have, I needed to be strong.
There had to be a way to kill him. What had Will told me to do?
Shoot Hector with silver. That wasn't working very well.
No, wait. Will's exact instructions had been to shoot Hector with silver, then eat his flesh. I stared at the shiny black blood, the smooth brown skin. My stomach heaved. Strong was one thing; this was another.
I didn't think I could do it.
Hector glanced at the moon, then at me, his eyes narrowed. "The Jager-Sucher society appears a bit more advanced than I realized. Ah well, a quick nip or two near something vital and you should change yet tonight. No harm, no foul, as they say."
A chorus of howls rose into the sky. The others had finished their change. Hector reached for me. There was a snarl of warning, and Damien in wolf form knocked him away. Before he hit the ground, Hector had become a great white wolf.
The two of them rolled, end over end, struggling for dominance. Hector was bigger, stronger. It didn't take long before Damien was pinned. I had to do something. No matter how much my hands shook, my heart thundered, my back burned, I had to get close enough to kill him. I took one step in their direction and five wolves blocked my path.
I shot the closest one. The silver worked damn good on him. He burst into flames and the others retreated, prancing and whimpering.