Excerpt

The vampire closed his eyes and bit into the fleshy neck of the waif. He waited for the rush as the red plasma trickled down his throat, engorging him and bringing him to life. He heard the young man moaning in ecstasy, his voice echoing through him, drowning out the loud club music surrounding them both.  Blood flowed through his body like fire as Lucien instinctively wrapped the trembling stray tighter in his strong arms. The boy’s muscles tightened, his heart beating faster. He was afraid. Lucien felt stronger as the urchin’s blood coursed through his veins, inflating him, making him dizzy with power.

Strangely, he felt mortal again; his sight became even clearer and the surrounding sounds intensified, almost to the point of pain. The youth’s heartbeat pounded in his ears like native drums, and between his legs an erection bulged as blood filled every inch of his body. For a moment Lucien thought he might die. Not like his mortal death, but in bliss like a star, blazing so bright he would explode, shattering the dark universe with fragments of energy and light.

The blood gave him incredible sustenance and power. It pulled at his own thoughts seductively and slowly, like a vampire tugging at his victim’s life force. It felt as if the blood had a life of its own, a vampiric power. Lucien concentrated harder as images from the young man’s life ran through his mind. A tiny house, his bedroom, school, friends, putting a needle in his veins. The images moved like a film in fast forward. The face of a dark-haired woman with emerald eyes surfaced. Once a child, now a seductively beautiful woman. Was she a lover? No. A sister, perhaps? She reminded him of someone he knew in Paris, but who? Reluctantly, Lucien released himself from the youthful flesh of his prey, still holding him close. The boy stared up at him with glazed eyes.

So the rumors had been true.

“Why’d you stop?” He rubbed his neck, feeling the two raised bumps.

“Too much of a good thing.” Lucien smiled and licked his pouty lips. He brushed the mortal’s warm cheek. Yes, if he were not careful, he would drain the boy. Instead, he studied him carefully, now that he had satisfied his lust for blood. He brushed a strand of dirty dark hair from the boy’s sunken face. He was beautiful underneath his drug-induced haze.

“I’ll do whatever you want as long as you pay me.”

Lucien reached into the pocket of his leather coat for the wad of cash and felt nothing.

“Later I can get you all the money you could want, young man.”

“It’s Ryan,” he quipped, his eyes glazed over from the blood loss. “I’m always available.”

“Very well, Ryan. Who is the woman with the emerald eyes?”

“My sister Amanda.” He chuckled nervously, knowing a vampire could gather information from a mortal’s blood.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, and real smart. She got it all, beauty and brains.”

Lucien had seen the facade of a large building with columns and banners waving in the breeze. He had seen a fountain with running water and sunlight cascading through it and trees surrounding the building. It bordered on a great park. He had seen the woman sitting at a desk in a tiny office, surrounded by books and coffee cups, staring at a computer screen.

“She works in a museum?” he asked casually, scanning the crowd for the others.

“Yeah, the Met. She loves antiques and anything French.”

“Good taste.” Lucien smiled as he caught a glimpse of Michel moving through the crowd coming toward them.

“Later, Ryan,” he whispered in a dismissive tone.

Ryan nodded and ducked into the shadows. Lucien guessed this was the usual crowd of mostly young women, overly made up, dressed all in black, pretending to be one of the undead. Only in America, he thought, feeling suddenly homesick for the City of Lights. This was his first weekend in the New World, and already he missed Paris.

He watched Michel move through the crowd. Despite the passing centuries, Lucien had never forgotten Michel’s grace and beauty, now adorned in haute couture such as Armani and Versace. Well over six feet tall, with catlike dark eyes, shoulder-length black hair, and high cheekbones, Michel was still one of the most beautiful men he had ever seen. He had been the talk of Paris centuries ago, and judging by the way women stared at him, Lucien assumed nothing had changed for the ethereal vampire. His beauty was arresting, his attraction to both sexes universal. He moved like a tiger through jungle palms, silent and deadly. Lucien felt his heart racing as Michel approached him.

“I thought it was just talk, but no.” Michel gave Lucien the once-over. He had never trusted the younger vampire.

“What brings you to our little corner of the world?”

“Quelling rumors.” Lucien smiled carefully. There was no use lying.

“And how are our Parisian friends, Lucien?” Michel leaned up against the bar, surveying the crowd for Christian. Lucien’s presence was an omen. “What are their panties in a bunch about now?” He grabbed a plastic drink straw from the bar and began to chew on it.

Lucien shrugged. He had come to New York to gather information. He had not asked for permission, nor would it have been granted to him. He was depending on the reputed good manners of the New York vampires, especially Christian Du Maura, Michel’s best friend. In fact, he was praying for it.

“I mean no harm, Michel.” Lucien put his hands up in a gesture of humbleness. “It has been too long since we have seen each other.” He noticed that the only things that had changed about Michel were his clothing and his accent. He now had only remnants of the French accent that Lucien remembered mixed with what must be a New York twang. He had heard that Christian and Michel had been here since the early 1900s.

“1790 to be exact.” Michel spoke, twirling the straw. “If I remember correctly, you sided with Gatan and Gabrielle against us, but then, that was over two hundred years ago. My memory may be failing.” He watched Lucien carefully, guessing that he wanted no trouble, at least not in public.

“Things change, Michel. That is one of the advantages to being immortal. Your perspective on history alters at some point, don’t you think?”

“Vampires tend to hold a grudge. You should know that, Lucien.”

Lucien shrugged, leaning against the bar.

“Well, my eyes deceive me.” A deep, soothing voice pierced the darkness.

Lucien turned and found himself face-to-face with the flowing blond hair and dark eyes that could only belong to one immortal: Christian Du Maura. Dressed in satin trousers and a lace shirt, he could almost pass for the eighteenth-century dandy Lucien remembered so well. He wore a long black leather overcoat and his once shoulder-length hair now fell down his back.

“Hello, Christian.”

Copyright 2010 Denise Rago. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Excerpt

The stench of decayed flesh stole her breath. Fighting to get away, the chains tore into her tender skin, his laughter echoing in her thoughts. There he stood, eyes glowing, teeth coated in blood. Excruciating pain seeped into her body as the demon’s crimson fangs ripped into her throat. Jordan screamed, pleading for him to stop. Gulping for air, heart beating way too fast, she blinked back tears and swallowed. Knowing her life would end tonight.

The creature smiled as he drank from her. For tonight, her essence would give him the power he sought for centuries. Her death would make him invincible, stronger than the elders of his kind. Sensing her heartbeat nearly gone, his fangs dug in deeper. Pure ecstasy began flooding through his body, until another of his kind ruined everything.

Robbed of strength from destroying the creature, he placed the woman in his arms. He whispered a silent prayer, thanking the fates her heart was still beating, barely… Her life rested in his hands, for he was her only hope!

Wrapped in her savior’s arms, floating deeper into a dark abyss, death called out to her. Then Jordan sensed his subtle voice, whispering into her thoughts. Promising her, vowing, “If it took his last breath… He would not let her life end this night”.

Copyright 2008 D.A. Berry. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

The sound startled her. Szeretni sat up, searching the darkness for the noise’s source. A shaft of moonlight breached the terrace doors. There, revealed by its silvery glow, waited a man. Her breath caught at the sight of him. He stood without moving; could have been crafted from stone—except for the life blazing from his golden brown eyes.
Hunger intensified his predatory glare.
Szeretni’s heart leapt to her throat. Scooting back against the headboard, she returned his stare, unable to look away. Now she knew how a hunted animal felt—afraid but defiant as, cornered, it turns to make a futile last stand. The man’s expression spoke volumes. Like the animal’s, her defense would be in vain.
She clutched the fur up under her chin, clenching it in her fists. “Who are you?”
“Your prince.”
“Why are you here?”
“Don’t you remember? You gave me the invitation.”
Szeretni loosened her grip on the fur. She managed to release it completely with one hand and began to smooth her palm back and forth across its soft surface, feigning a calmness she didn’t feel. She couldn’t let this man know he intimidated her. A show of fear might give him the upper hand.
As if he didn’t have the upper hand already, alone with her in her bedroom, with no one within hearing distance if she cried out for help. He stepped closer. She felt a strange tingling at the base of her spine—a stronger, unrecognizable emotion to mingle with her fright. “I did not invite you here.”
He gave her a slight smile. “The invitation was valid. Think back…remember. You told me your home was through the trees. ‘Perhaps you’ll come visit me’ you said. It was all the invitation I required. Now I have a question for you. Why did you ask me here?”
“Told you where my house was? No…I told the wolf. Were you hiding in the shadows? Why didn’t you make your presence known?”
“I didn’t want to frighten you.”
“So the wolf is yours?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“Who are you? Where do you live?”
He stepped nearer to the bed. “I can be whoever you want me to be. A prince, perhaps? Ah, but that is too easy. Give me more of a challenge.”
She felt the heat of a blush rise up in her face. He had overheard her silly talk with the wolf. She had let down her guard, safe or so she thought, with only an animal for company. Now she was open to ridicule. “You mock me.”
“No. Tell me, what would you have me be?” He sat down on the edge of her bed. The mattress dipped with his weight, leaning her toward him.
His nearness overwhelmed her, clouding her ability to think. He smelled good, clean. Familiar. And what were the strange sensations tickling her spine?
He moved toward her. She shrank back. “What is your name?” he asked.
“I am Szeretni Maria Vitez.”
A laugh rumbled from his chest. “Szeretni is Hungarian for love—could it be an omen? Or just delicious irony?”
She lifted her chin, meeting his eyes in defiance. “I am proud of my name. My mother chose it—she said I was a personification of the love she and my father shared. She hoped my name would bring me luck. That it would bring me the same kind of love.”
“And has it?”
She looked away. “Not yet.”
He reached out to caress her cheek. At his touch, she shrank back and his eyes filled with sadness. “Foolish of me to come here, but you charmed me with your talk of princes and fairy stories. How could I resist you?”
Szeretni’s breath escaped her. Her voice trembled when she dared to ask, “What do you want of me?”
“You gave the invitation. What do you want of me?”
She sat up taller, boldly meeting his gaze with her own. “I want you to leave.”
Matthias shrugged. “Very well, but rest assured, I will return. That I promise you.”
She watched as he moved out onto the terrace. The moon went behind a cloud and he vanished into the night.

Copyright 2008 Sara Saint John. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Excerpt: 

Chapter Six

Nathan couldn’t wait any longer. Today was Wednesday, and if he didn’t find those spores by Friday or Saturday at the latest, his research would come to a dead stop. He needed her help. Avoiding her wouldn’t solve his problem. Regretfully picking up the phone, he dialed Skyler’s number.

She answered on the second ring. “Kingston Animal Clinic.” Her warm voice sent shivers of sensation up his spine. A picture popped into his head of silky platinum hair draping her naked breasts as she knelt on his bed.

He shook away the image. “Skyler, this is Nathaniel Brady. How are you?”

He heard her hesitation. “I’m fine, Nathan. What can I do for you? Is Bubba okay?”

“He’s fine. I neglected to thank you yesterday for taking such good care of him. He’s been running around here happy as a clam ever since we picked him up from the clinic. Cassandra and I are indebted to you.”

“Well, good. I’m glad he’s better.” The tone of her voice was hesitant, distant. Skyler still sounded miffed over his brusque visit yesterday. He’d struggled to stay detached, acting cool and unresponsive to the way she smiled at him; he needed to quell the turbulent emotions she roused in him. He was afraid he’d come across as rude.

A pregnant pause. Say something. “Um, Skyler? Remember last week at dinner when I asked you if you’d be my guide into the mountains to search for ferns?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“I want to apologize for my behavior that night. I realize you have other important commitments, and I had no right to question them.”

“It’s-it’s all right. No offense taken.” He heard her reluctance to forgive him.

“Well, I was wondering-could you take a day or two off from the clinic this week to show me those fern glades you mentioned? We could leave Thursday morning and backpack up Honor Mountain, spend the night and return some time on Friday.”

She hesitated. “Um, I don’t think that’s a-”

He interrupted her protests. Plan A: Reassurance. “If you’re worried about being alone with me, don’t be. Cassandra wants to tag along, and you can bring Damien if you wish. I’ve bought sleeping bags and a small dome tent for you girls, and I promise I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

Skyler paused again. “You bought sleeping bags before asking me?”

“I have to make the trip in any case, with or without you.”

“Is this trip that urgent right now?” she finally asked. “This is not a very good time for me to be away. I have surgery scheduled on Thursday.”

Plan B: Guilt. “The weatherman says we’re in for some warm, dry weather through the end of this week, and if I don’t get some spores soon, the final level of my research will have to be postponed indefinitely. I’m very close to finding the cure. To interrupt my research now could mean unnecessary, lingering deaths for many ill children. I could search these mountains for weeks by myself and not find those fern groves.”

“I could draw you a map,” she offered.

Plan C: Outright lying. “I’m terrible with maps. Have no sense of direction. Get lost every time.” She sighed, and he sensed her capitulation through the phone wires as if it were electrical.

“All right,” she finally said, annoyance crackling in her voice. “I’ll have to rearrange the neutering of Mrs. Rhodes’ German Shepherd and ask Denzel to cover the clinic for me. Pick me up here at noon on Thursday.”

“Thanks, Skyler. This means a great deal to me.” He hung up the phone, leaned back in his chair, and began whistling.

—

[Have you completely lost your mind?] Damien asked when she hung up the phone.

“No, I haven’t. I’m doing this for a good cause,” she replied, guilt tickling her conscience.

[Bull. Who are you trying to convince, me or yourself? I'm going with you, and I'll be watching your every move. You know the rules, and the consequences.] Damien strolled out the front door of the clinic and plopped his bulk down in a patch of late-day sun on the porch.

Skyler stared outside at the sunshine, lost in thought. The weather this week had been incredible. Temperatures in the high 60s, warm sunshine every day, and daffodils gaily pushed their heads up in the flower garden. If this continued, the snow pack in the high Cascades would melt much too fast and a present a serious risk of the Skagit

River flooding its banks and running right through town. Her Main Street clinic had been flooded more than once in the past fifteen years. Then again, if the weather turned suddenly nasty up on the mountain, they’d be trapped up there.

But for no reason, Skyler found herself humming. She finished washing the beakers in the sink, tidied up the lab and flipped off the light, turning over the “Closed” sign on the front door. She floated dreamily through the breezeway to enter her sun-warmed kitchen, leaving the door open to the spring air. Mama Porter, who’d left homemade macaroni and cheese in a pot on the stove, had already left for the day.

Several cats rubbed her legs as she entered, meowing for their dinner. As she filled their dishes with Iams, Skyler’s thoughts returned to Nathan. Yesterday, when he’d come in to pick up Bubba, he’d coldly assessed her, the look in his eyes accusing. She’d been nursing a lingering headache from her transformation, and was not in a mood for chit-chat, but apparently, neither was he. He’d been brusque, abrupt, and rude to her. Still, the memory of his presence filled her head, as if he stood before her. She recalled the way his red plaid shirt clung to the bulging muscles in his arms. Tight black jeans wrapped his slender hips and outlined the firm contours of his sexy rear end.

As he reached out to take Bubba from her arms, their eyes met and an electric pulse arced from his eyes to hers. The heat in his gaze set her heart thudding in her chest, and she looked quickly away. He paid the bill and left the clinic without so much as a good-bye.

Now he expected her to spend an entire day and night with him, and she didn’t know how she was supposed to act. As she dished up Mama Porter’s fragrant, creamy pasta, she decided to let him take the lead, let his mood dictate hers. If he wanted friendship, well, okay. If he wanted business only, two could play that game.

[And what if he wants neither?] Damien asked from the doorway.

—

Nathan showed up at noon on Thursday driving a dark green Jeep Cherokee loaded down with camping gear. It looked like he planned on camping for two weeks. Skyler suppressed a smile as she tossed her backpack in with the rest of his gear. What a tenderfoot.

He grinned at her and gave a wolf whistle. She’d donned utilitarian khaki shorts and a Seahawks sweatshirt for the hike, but his appreciative gaze made her feel all dolled up in satin and lace. His mood had obviously improved since she saw him last. She smiled genuinely at him as he opened the back door for Damien to jump in next to Cassie, who bounced all over the back seat in excitement and anticipation.

At least he wore appropriate clothing: snug, faded Levi’s, a blue striped western shirt and light-weight denim jacket, plus the ever-present black Stetson. Instead of his snakeskin boots, he’d donned brown suede hiking boots strung with red laces. “Where’d you get the wheels?” Skyler asked.

“Hertz in Bellingham. Figured my Beamer wouldn’t make a particularly good mountain vehicle.” Nathan winked at her, his lips curving in a broad grin, and her breath froze in her throat. She could grow to like the way his pearly whites gleamed so straight and strong beneath his dark mustache when he smiled at her. She remembered how soft that mustache felt against her mouth.

She sensed her cheeks reddening at his assessing look. “The Jeep’ll do fine,” she said as he held the door while she hopped in the passenger side.

They left town by the Quilcene Road, heading towards Honor Mountain. Skyler directed him up several dirt roads until a track cut off through the trees. Although the trail appeared overgrown and humped in the middle, the high under-carriage of the Cherokee cleared it with no problem. After a half hour of bumpy travel, two miles north of her wolf cave, Skyler directed him to take the left fork in the road, away from the cave trail.

When the road dead-ended at an old downed cedar, they parked the Jeep and hiked inland, hauling more gear than Skyler thought necessary, eventually finding a pleasant little copse of aspens where they could set up base camp.

“How much farther is this fern grove?” Nathan asked as he put up the two-man dome tent. Skyler gathered rocks in a circle and built a small firepit. His intense gaze watched her every move from under the brim of his hat, making her uncomfortable.

“About a two-hour hike from here. It’s on the northern side of the mountain, and we may run into some wet weather up there. Our best chance is to leave early in the morning, reach the grove and get off the mountain before the afternoon storms sweep in. There’s bound to be snow left in the hollows, which will slow us down.”

Cassie sprang into camp, mahogany curls bouncing from beneath her baseball cap with Damien at her heels. “Daddy!” she called. “What’s for dinner? I’m starvin’! We musta hiked a hunnert miles today.”

“Stew cooked over the fire,” Nathan said, smiling tenderly. “And a hotdog. Go find a stick to cook it on.”

“Oscar Meyer cheese hotdogs?”

“Is there any other kind?”

“Goody. Didja ‘member the marshmallows?” she asked.

“Yup. Better find two sticks. And don’t wander off too far. Stay close enough so I can hear you.”

“Dad! I’m not a little baby, you know. I’m almost growed up.” Cassie skipped off, searching the ground diligently for a suitable hotdog roasting stick. They heard her singing, “…three, four, how many more? Five, six, hotdog sticks!”

Nathan crouched over and lit the kindling. Skyler leaned back on a sun-warmed rock, contentment coursing through her. “I love being out here with nothing but Mother Nature for company,” she commented, stretching luxuriously like a cat in a sun spot.

Nathan frowned. “I’m sorry if my presence offends you. I wouldn’t have asked you on this trip if I didn’t need you.”

She sat up straighter. “I didn’t mean it that way!” She frowned back at him, exasperation flushing her cheeks hot pink.

Nathan plopped down next to her, too close for comfort. Skyler edged away slightly, alarm speeding up her spine. Damien, from where he reclined across the fire pit, pricked his ears up. [Don't even go there,] she warned him.

“How did you mean it then?” He darted her a dark narrow look, eyebrows drawn. His hat came off and his long, graceful fingers scraped his curls into order. He set the Stetson down on the top of the rock. His arm curved around her, barely grazing her shoulders.

She crossed her arms firmly beneath her bosom. “I just meant I love the outdoors. The wind in my hair, the sun on my back-that sort of thing. Why do you take everything I say so literally?” As soon as she said it, she realized she sounded a tad more irritated than she intended. He bristled, his shoulders stiffening.

If I didn’t need you… The words echoed in her ears. She sighed, softening. “Oh, Nathan, your presence doesn’t offend me, and I don’t mean to be standoffish, but I can’t get involved with anyone right now. I know you’re attracted to me, but it won’t work. Can’t we just be friends?” Damien, head on paws, snorted in derision. Skyler knifed him a glare.

“Who says I’m attracted to you?” Nathan exclaimed, turning his back to her as he stared at the trees. He picked up a twig and snapped it in two, pitching both halves in the dirt at his feet. “Ah, shit. I don’t have time for this. All I want to do is complete my research. I don’t want to be attracted to you any more than you do to me!” He turned around suddenly, taking her shoulders in both hands, thunder on his face. “But I’ve watched your tight little ass in those shorts sashay up the trail in front of me for hours now, and you’ve got me so worked up, I don’t know what I want.”

Panic yanked at her conscience as fear and anticipation zinged from her stomach to her toes. His eyes narrowed as he glared at her, lips tight, silky black mustache trembling. “Nathan…don’t…” But she was unable to turn her gaze away from his, powerless to stop the inevitable.

Fierce desire chiseled his face. With no warning, his mouth descended on hers, insistent, demanding, possessive. Her hair hung in one thick braid down her back, and he flipped off the barrette holding it, releasing its heavy strands and burying his fingers in it. He moaned in his throat and the sound sent her mind reeling. She closed her eyes and unwillingly surrendered to his kiss.

His mouth crushed sensuously to hers, he wrapped his arms around her middle, drawing her onto his lap and snuggling her head against his shoulder. Once he held her captive, he lifted his lips from plundering hers to gaze at her. Soft golden lights gleamed from deep within the depths of his midnight eyes, as if kissing her ignited bonfires in his soul.

“What have you done to me, you little witch?” he whispered, pulling her close to nuzzle her neck, planting a million tiny kisses down her throat. She buried her face in his soft hair, smelling lemon shampoo, spicy after-shave, and a hot-blooded male essence that swelled her desire to fever pitch.

Skyler couldn’t breathe. He crept his hand up under her sweatshirt to rest beneath her breasts. Her heart lurched, pounding out of control, her arms powerless against his strength and determination. She didn’t want him to stop. His thumb sneaked up and teased her puckered nipple, sending sensuous pulses spiraling to the feminine core of her. Warmth coursed through her blood like an irresistible drug.

She found her voice and pushed against his chest, hard.

“Nathan…don’t…I…can’t…”

“Don’t say don’t, kitten. You want this as much as I do.” He claimed her mouth again, slipping his tongue between her teeth to spar with her own. Her mind dizzy and swirling, she surrendered once more to his kiss. Damien’s insistent mental voice tried to break through her hypnosis, but she ignored him, only vaguely aware of when he stalked out of the clearing. Good, she thought.

She felt lightheaded, about to faint as Nathan’s mouth demanded compliance, turning and tasting. A warm moistness built from where her legs joined, through her belly and up to her heart, exploding with tension so sweet, so agonizing, it frightened her. He slanted his mouth deliciously over hers, sliding the tip of his tongue in and out, sucking on her lips and nibbling sweetly. He devoured her with his voracious mouth, planting a swelling, tender ache building inside her. Sighing, she kissed him back, opening her mouth for his exploration.

Nathan reached around her back, and with one flip of his fingers, released the catch on her bra. Before she realized she should protest, he’d snaked his hand around to the front, lifting her sweatshirt slightly. He cupped her breasts ever so gently and delicately rotated the nipples on his palms until she thought she’d scream with pleasure. She’d never known sensations like this; thrilling vibrations twitched from her breasts to her belly. She tossed her head back as he dipped his mouth down to claim a rosy peak with his tongue. Her breath caught in her throat, and she moaned.

A blood-curdling animal scream suddenly rent the air, rousing them both from their love-induced stupor. Another scream-this time from a child-catapulted her out of his lap.

“Oh, my God! Cassie!” Skyler screeched. Nathan got to his feet right behind her as they raced in the direction of the screams. As they rounded a stand of tall hemlocks sheltering an outcropping of ochre rocks, Skyler stopped dead in her tracks, and Nathan almost mowed her down. He jerked aside suddenly to avoid a collision and slipped in the dust, but caught himself.

Cassie lay on a rock ledge like a broken doll, crumpled in a heap. From atop a boulder not ten feet above the child, a big yellow cougar screamed once more and swiped the air, tail switching violently. Without warning, it leaped directly onto the ledge where Cassie lay. Cassie screeched again, and scootched rapidly backwards, until her back met solid rock.

From out of nowhere, Damien streaked past them, a silver blur in the deepening twilight. A savage snarl erupted from his throat as he hit the cougar in the chest, knocking them both snout over teakettle. Choking amber dust flew into the air, but Damien and the cougar recovered quickly and turned to face each other, circling warily. The sick smell of fear and adrenaline hung in the air.

Low spitting noises emitted from the cat as he shuffled and turned, swatting the air. Damien’s deep growl emanated from his barrel chest as he lowered his head, glaring at the cat’s yellow eyes with his smoky slate gaze in direct challenge. Damien darted in suddenly, surprising Skyler-and the cat-by sinking his teeth in the cougar’s flank. The cougar spun with a scream, swiping with razor-sharp claws at Damien’s nose. One claw caught him across the snout, and bright blood welled quickly. Damien yelped and retreated momentarily. But he spun and resumed his stance of authority, licked his nose to stem the dripping blood, and looked fiercer now than Skyler had ever seen him. The huge wolf in this life-and-death struggle was terrifying to behold.

Nathan scrambled down the rocky hill and reached for Cassie from behind the battling animals. He scooped her up in his arms and yelled at Skyler to follow him, but Skyler, mesmerized by the battle, stayed to watch from behind a tree, her heart in her throat. The cat and the big wolf weren’t much different in size, but Damien lacked the cat’s agility and razor-sharp claws. He made up for it in aggression.

He curled his lips, exposing his powerful canine teeth, and with a roar full of outrage and pain, Damien went for the throat, but the cat twisted out of reach. Damien charged again, dodging those claws with expert sidesteps. He feinted, dodged, fell back, and charged again, never letting up on his assault. He slowly but surely backed the cat up to the edge of the cliff.

With Damien’s final lunge, the cat snarled and raised up on his hind feet, misstepped backwards and met nothing but air. He rolled head over tail down the dusty slope, howling piteously, tumbling and dislodging rocks and brambles as he went. Landing with a whump at the bottom, he jumped up spitting and yowling, and darted off through the underbrush.

Damien stood looking over the cliff, his tongue hanging out, panting. Skyler watched the cat disappear into the trees. She scrambled over the dusty rocks to Damien’s side, wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely.

“Damien! You were marvelous! I’m so proud of you. Oh, you’re hurt, let me see it.” She reached out to grasp his nose, but the recrimination in his smoky eyes stopped her. He jerked away.

[It's nothing, just a scratch. And just what exactly were you doing when that child wandered off?] He turned to glare at her abruptly, the accusation in his eyes nailing her dead-on.

Guilt slapped her cheeks, turning them bright pink, as she remembered Nathan’s kiss, his hands on her body, the passion. Damien had tried to break into her love-induced trance, and she’d shut him out. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. If Cassie had been hurt because she and Nathan had been so selfishly occupied, she’d never forgive herself.

“Oh, Damien. I’m sorry, but when he touches me, I lose everything-my will power, my common sense, my mind. Haven’t you ever felt this way?”

He looked at her steadily a long time before answering. Then he turned away and gazed out over the cliff. [I once knew a girl with fire in her hair and a spark of love for me in her green eyes, but I would never jeopardize the life of another for a moment of passion. I hurt her badly when I doused that spark, but she's better off for it. Your greedy preoccupation with this man is poison. You'll destroy him-and yourself as well. You will never be content as a wolf after knowing the love of a man. That's part of the curse. You know the legend as well as I. Norda gave us an extraordinary passionate nature-to entice us into the very actions that would destroy us-and perpetuate her evil curse.]

“Why didn’t you ever tell me? About that girl, I mean. I’m so sorry for you both. I didn’t know. But this is more than passionate lust, Damien. There’s something drawing me to him that I can’t fight. I don’t know how to fight it.” She hesitated, unbidden tears pooling in her eyes. “I don’t want to fight it,” she finally said softly, pleading with her damp eyes for him to understand.

Saying nothing, Damien turned his back to her, then moved off like a wraith through the trees, resignation etched on his features as if the shadow of death had touched him.

Skyler paced dejectedly back to camp. Nathan had propped Cassie up on her sleeping bag in the tent, and dished her up a bowl of stew. “Is she all right?” Skyler asked.

“A couple of scratches and a sprained ankle, but she’ll be fine.” Nathan thumbed over his shoulder at Damien, who had flopped down on the other side of the fire pit again. “Thanks to that amazing wolf of yours. How do you say thank you to a wolf?”

“You just did. (Hick!) He understands you.” Skyler slumped back against the rock where Nathan had branded her mouth so passionately minutes before, and threw her elbow over her eyes, trying unsuccessfully to fight off the hiccups. High emotional stress always gave her the hiccups. The sun sank rapidly over the western hills as the crickets tuned their instruments.

“He does?”

Skyler looked up to see Nathan’s head swivel as he looked at Damien, eyes wide and questioning. “Yes, he does. Ask him something.”

Nathan thought a moment. Skyler could see the wheels turning behind his eyes. “Why did the cougar attack a human?” Nathan asked, watching Damien carefully.

[He's a rogue; mean, dangerous, hungry.]

“He said it’s a rogue cat-mean, dangerous, and hungry.” Hick!

“Hold your breath and count to a hundred, Skyler. Will it come back tonight?” Nathan asked uneasily.

“Not likely,” Skyler answered. Hick! “Not with Damien here.” She sucked in her breath and counted.

[The cougar killed the sheep...not our wolves.]

Skyler let her breath out in a whoosh. “He says it’s the cougar killing the farmers’ sheep-(hick!), not the pack of wolves in the woods-which backs up my theory completely. I need to tell the sheriff tomorrow. That cat will have to be captured.” She held her breath again. This time, it worked. Her hiccups disappeared.

Nathan walked over to where Damien lay. Crouching down, he stroked a hand over Damien’s woolly head. “Damien, my friend, I owe you big time. I don’t know if you actually understand me or not, but if there’s ever anything I can do for you or your other friends, let me know.” He held out a hand, as if from one man to another. Damien sat up and placed a paw in Nathan’s hand. Both of their faces cracked into huge grins as they shook on a new friendship.

[He's not so bad-for a human,] Damien shot off to Skyler, causing her to grin in return.

“He’s not so bad,” Nathan said, “for a wolf.” He winked at Skyler and she burst out laughing.

While their dinner warmed, Damien finally allowed Skyler to look at the cat-claw injury on his snout. Skyler wrapped a hand around Damien’s nose, pulsing her healing power through her fingers to the injury. Within a few minutes, the sore had scabbed over and started healing from within. It would be gone in a day or two.

Nathan watched her work. “Wow,” he said. “I wish my hands held that kind of power. Just imagine the possibilities, kitten.”

“I can help you learn to focus your energy, to nurture your own skills of empathic healing, if you like,” she said.

He nodded, speechless for once.

After getting Cassie settled for the night, Nathan and Damien wolfed down Oscar Mayer’s and plates of Dinty Moore. Skyler’s plate of stew was devoid of chunks of meat, her being a vegetarian. “No food with a face,” she told him. She placed the bun on a hot rock and made toast out of it, then gave her hotdog to Damien. After dinner, they sat around the dwindling fire letting their food settle. They had a busy day tomorrow.

Skyler shivered suddenly as the chill night air brushing her bare legs made them erupt in goose bumps.

She donned her fuzzy red sweats over her shorts for warmth and tossed a flannel-lined denim jacket over her shoulders. As the two of them talked and relaxed by the fire, Nathan poked a long stick at the glowing logs, creating hypnotizing swirls of white-hot flame in the center of the coals. Skyler compared it to how sizzling her insides felt when Nathan kissed her.

As Cassie slept in the tent and Damien snored by the fire, Nathan and Skyler roasted marshmallows, sipped mugs of hot chocolate, and chatted about a lot of nothing. He told her about his sleep-deprived days in medical school. She giggled at his stories of stir-crazy interns and their practical jokes, panty raids on the sorority house, and beer busts in Discovery Park. His sense of humor really shined when he wasn’t trying to seduce her.

She embellished a few small-town tales of her own, making him explode with laughter over the story of Boomer Nordquist’s six-foot boa constrictor who’d gotten loose and was finally caught in the Jacobson’s outhouse. Throughout the evening, he glanced at her several times with an undisguised hunger in his eyes, but he didn’t touch her again.

At ten o’clock, as the waning moon climbed the ladder of stars, she said good night to Nathan and crawled in the tent next to Cassie, pleasantly tired and more content than she’d been in a long time. The flicker of the dying fire peeked at her through the screened window. Nathan bedded down right outside the tent flap, with Damien sprawled next to the banked fire. She felt safe and sheltered. She fell asleep listening to soft snoring sounds drifting through the crisp night air. She wasn’t sure if Damien or Nathan snored the loudest.

—  Visit my website: www.lyndahales.com for more of TREACHEROUS LOVE and to see the book trailer video for my latest e-book, IDENTICAL DECEPTION.

Copyright © 2008 Lynda Hales. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.