“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.
Shaking the water from her coat, she trotted toward the cave.
Santiago followed her, thinking that, woman or wolf, Regan Delaney was the most desirable creature he had ever known.
Chapter 18
Regan paced back and forth in front of the entrance to the cave, waiting, wondering if she would shift again. The moon had risen an hour ago; thus far, she hadn’t felt the wolf stirring inside her.
“Do you feel anything?” Santiago asked.
“No.”
“I think it is safe for us to leave.”
With a nod, she helped him gather their gear together. The nightmare was over until the next full moon.
Riding down the mountain was much faster and more pleasant than walking up had been. Regan had been surprised to see the horses, thinking them long gone. When she asked Santiago about it, he told her he had called them to him. Another useful trick, she thought.
The trip home was uneventful. Regan had been worried about the horses when Santiago turned them loose, but he had assured her they would find their way back to Hunonpa Luta’s camp.
It seemed odd to be riding in a car again, to see houses and stores, paved roads and street lights. It didn’t seem right that everything in the city looked so normal, so unchanged, when her
whole life had been turned upside down.
It was after midnight several nights later when Santiago pulled up in front of her apartment. “I do not think this is a good idea.”
“I have to go home sometime. I need to change my clothes, and I want to sleep in my own bed and bathe in my own tub.”
“Stay with me tonight.”
Regan glanced out the passenger-side window. The streets were dark, the sky overcast. The thought of spending the night in her apartment alone when Vasile was on the loose sent a shiver down her spine. She was going to have to face Vasile sometime, but not tonight. She needed to come up with a plan, needed to get her emotions under control before she went hunting the werewolf. Perhaps she should go home with Santiago. She would be safer with him than she would be staying here alone.
“All right,” she decided, “but I’m coming home in the morning.”
He didn’t say anything, but simply turned the car around and drove to You Bet Your Life Park. After unlocking the trunk, he gathered their bags.
Regan stayed close to his side as they entered the park. Few lights were visible inside the park. It was creepy, walking along the tree-lined path toward Santiago’s apartment. From time to time, vampires appeared out of the darkness, seemingly from out of nowhere. It was disconcerting, having them appear and disappear like that. Some of them nodded at Santiago. Some of them looked at her as if wondering how she would taste. Here and there, they passed couples sitting on wooden benches, enjoying the evening air and the moonlight. A few of the vampires, both male and female, were with their mortal companions. There had been a time not so long ago when Regan had wondered how any man or woman could be seriously involved with a vampire, let alone live with one, but now, after spending time with Santiago, it was easier to understand the attraction, and easy to see why the vampires were trying to have a law passed that would allow vampires and mortals to intermarry. The fact that she didn’t find that as disturbing as she once had was quite disturbing.
They took the elevator to Santiago’s apartment. He tucked both bags under one arm, then unlocked the door and stepped inside ahead of her. Dropping the bags on the floor, he turned on the lights and muttered a vile oath.
Startled, Regan leaned to one side so she could see around him. She gasped at what she saw. The apartment was a shambles. The sofa and chair had been ripped to shreds, tables were overturned, lamps had been broken.
Santiago waited until Regan entered the apartment, then closed the door and set the lock. Hands clenched at his sides, he explored the rest of the apartment. Regan followed him from room to room. The bedding, mattress, and pillows were in shreds, the dresser and night stands were on their sides, the chair was in pieces. The refrigerator door had been ripped off; the bags of synthetic blood had been opened, their contents splashed across the floor and splattered over the walls.
“Who would have done this?” Regan exclaimed.
“Vasile.”
“But…how did he get in here?”
Santiago shook his head. “I do not know, but I intend to find out.”
“How?”
“Someone must have let him in.”
“I didn’t think anyone else had access to your apartment.”
“Stay here. I will be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“Downstairs. To check with security.”
“No way! I’m not staying here alone.”
For a moment, it looked like he was going to argue with her, and then thought better of it. “Very well, come along,” he said, picking up her bag.
The vampire at the desk, whose name was Lenny, denied letting anyone into Santiago’s apartment and said that, as far as he knew, no one had come looking for him. When asked, Lenny replied that there hadn’t been any killings in the park or in the city in the last week and a half.
Santiago thanked Lenny for his time and requested that someone be sent up to his apartment as soon as possible to clean up the mess.
“We can always go back to my place,” Regan suggested as they left the office.
“No. We will go to my lair.”
She was about to remind him it had been trashed when she realized he meant his other lair.
“Why do you keep two places?” she asked, and knew the answer before the question left her lips. She had seen the reason with her own eyes. “Do all vampires keep more than one place?”
“The smart ones do.” Taking her by the hand, he led her to his car. He held the car door open for her, closed it, then rounded the front of the car and slid behind the wheel.
“You don’t spend much time in the park apartment, do you?” Regan asked.
“Why do you ask?” Glancing over his shoulder, he pulled away from the curb.
She shrugged. “It’s so bland. It doesn’t look like you.”
He glanced at her, obviously amused. “No?”
She grinned. “All that white. It just doesn’t suit you.”
“Perhaps I should paint the walls black,” he mused, “to match my soul.”
Regan’s smile faded. “I didn’t mean that.”
“I know.”
“Do you think Vasile left town? That vampire, Lenny, said there haven’t been any killings recently.”
“It is always a possibility.”
“I’m going to have to go home sooner or later,” Regan reminded him.
“But not tonight.”
Knowing it was useless to argue with him, she sat back and made a mental list of the things she had to do when she got home—pick up her mail, call her parents, call Michael, call the department, check her e-mail.
Santiago pulled up in front of the dilapidated building ten minutes later. He parked the Speedster at the curb, then came around to open the door for her. Glancing around, she wondered why he didn’t find a new lair, maybe in a nicer neighborhood where the surroundings weren’t so run down. Most of the surrounding buildings had fallen into the same state of neglect and disrepair as the one he occupied.
She kept glancing over her shoulder as she followed him down the stairs to his lair. The building, with its broken windows and musty smell, gave her the creeps.
He opened the door for her and she preceded him inside. His apartment in the park was just a set of rooms, but this place, this was where he lived. His power washed over her as she stepped across the threshold. Why hadn’t she felt it before? Even as she pondered the question, she knew the answer. She hadn’t been a werewolf before. She hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it, had tried to pretend it wasn’t true, but her senses were sharper now. She had noticed the difference as soon as they entered the city.
“I’m like Vasile now,” she murmured, thinking aloud. “Maybe he won’t want to kill me anymore.”
Santiago regarded her through narrowed eyes. “You may be right.” He dropped the bag he was carrying beside the sofa. “It is against pack law for one werewolf to kill another. The penalty is death.”
At last, Regan thought, a ray of hope. Vasile had intended to kill her to get even with Santiago, but now…She frowned. Would he defy the laws of his kind to exact his revenge? Or had he inadvertently given her back her life?
Regan sat down. “How do the werewolves live?”
Santiago sat down beside her, one arm draped across the back of the sofa. “What do you mean, how do they live?”
“Do they live like normal people when they aren’t, you know, ravaging the countryside?”
“Ah. Yes. It is easier for them now that they are not as numerous as they once were.”
“Are they…do they…?”
“What?”
“Do they get married, have children?”
“Of the dozen or so that are rumored to be under Vasile’s protection, six are mated pairs.”
“Mated pairs? Does that mean they’re married or just…mated?”
“They are married and live ordinary lives, at least for the most part, except when the moon is full.”
“Are the married one
s all werewolves?”
“Two of the couples are. The third couple is mixed, werewolf and human.”
“Can they have children?”
Santiago nodded, his gaze intent upon her face.
“What kind of children do they have?”
He laughed softly. “The usual kind.”
“And Vasile?”
“He has never married, nor had children, that I know of.” He leaned toward her, his gaze caressing her. “It is important to you, having children?”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“Why?” She rose from the sofa and began to pace the floor. “Why? Because I’m a woman, that’s why. Because I love children. Because I’ve always wanted to get married and have a large family.”
Santiago sat back, his expression shuttered. “Hunting vampires and raising a family do not seem to be compatible.”
“No, I guess not.” She blew out a sigh. “I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed.”
Rising, Santiago drew her into his embrace. “I love you, Regan. I wish I could give you the life you want.”
“So do I.” Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “Good night, Joaquin.”
Blinking back her tears, she picked up her bag, went into the bedroom, and closed the door. She had thought her life was complicated before she met Santiago. Now, she wished she could go back to those relatively quiet days, when all she had to worry about was finding a new job.
Opening her bag, she pulled out her toothpaste, toothbrush, and nightgown and went into the bathroom. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, put on her nightgown, and slid into bed. The satin sheets were cool beneath her. The pillow was redolent with Santiago’s scent.
He loved her. The thought made her heart ache. In all his long life, he had loved only one other woman. And now he was in love with her. He had told her so on several occasions, asking nothing in return. Maybe he just needed to say the words.
She wiped her tears on a corner of the sheet. And she loved him. It would be so easy to succumb to him, to give in to the yearnings of her own heart, but she knew it would only lead to heartache.
Dead Sexy Page 17
