by Leia Shaw
At the chalet, they separated and walked the perimeter of the empty wood building, searching for clues. A few sets of footprints indicated someone had been there since the last snow. But the prints were too small for a werewolf. Most likely hikers or rangers. The only scent she detected was animal and human. No pinewood. No evil. No Slayer.
When Cristian joined her on the porch, she growled, “Still no fucking sign of him!” The vision of Abigial Freeman, sick and barely breathing, pumped anger through her veins. Finding the child changed something in her. Yes, it was the most satisfying experience in the world knowing she would go back to her family, safe and well-loved. But since finding her cold, limp body, an uncomfortable fury simmered in her chest.
“Easy there, killer.” Cristian came up behind her and stroked his hand down her hair. She shivered. “We still have a plan B.”
“You have a plan B,” she muttered and turned around to start picking the chalet lock. Dawn was still a good two hours away but she wasn’t taking any chances. They’d rest there for the day then get a strong start the next night.
Cristian’s heavy footsteps crossed the wooden planks and she could feel his gaze at her back. “I’ve had enough of your snide comments and cold exterior. Where’s the woman from the shower? The one who acknowledged her pain and accepted comfort. Strong, but not invincible. Trusting, but not stupid. I want her back.”
She forced herself to focus on the lock, ignoring the painful squeeze in her chest. “She doesn’t exist.” I don’t want her to exist. Her hands trembled.
He grabbed her elbow and spun her around, trapping her against the door. “I told you I wouldn’t let you pull away and I meant it. I’m a patient man. I can wait a long time for you, Natalia.”
He wanted her. He’d admitted as much. But why? Why would a passionate, loving werewolf want someone like her? They were opposites in every way. He was soft; she was hard. He was warm; she was cold. She would only dampen the fire that raged in his passionate body. Though she’d never say so, he deserved better.
His hand cupped her cheek. “You’re worth every minute, draga mea, my dear one.”
“No,” she breathed, barely audible.
For a moment, she thought he might kiss her. He leaned in, his breath heating her lips. She hated that her heart stopped, eagerly awaiting his move. But no, he didn’t mean to kiss her. His eyes danced with mischief, not lust. He gave her a wolfy grin. Then he ducked down and threw his shoulder into her belly, and before she could react, she was draped over his back while he ran into the clearing outside the chalet.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she yelled. “You can’t manhandle me!”
He laughed.
Laughed!
“I can and I will. You need to loosen up my little Ice Queen.” With that, he dropped her ass in the snow.
She glared up at him. “You are so annoying.”
“Are you starting to feel, Natalia?”
“Yes. Hate.” She jumped to her feet and brushed the snow off her butt.
“If you’re capable of hate, you’re capable of love. They’re equally as passionate just different sides of the same coin.”
“Passion?” she spat. “What is passion but an excuse to act like fools?” In a mocking voice she said, “I’m in love. I can act completely irrational and idio –”
She cut off with a gasp when a snowball hit her square in the face. The cold stung her cheek and she growled.
He grabbed up another handful of snow.
“Don’t you dare.”
He grinned, holding the snowball threateningly. Suddenly, the big, bad alpha looked like a mischievous little boy. A goofy, lopsided smile and sparkling eyes stared back at her, brimming with mirth. Her lips twitched.
“Come on, vampire,” he whispered. “Play with me.”
For a moment, she envied him. He’d lost his mate – watched her burn alive – yet here he stood, full of humor, patience, and grace – everything she would never have. How? How could he move on without carrying hate? All she had left was hate.
He glided closer. “Do you even know how to play?”
“I’m not a child. I don’t play.”
With three long strides he was inches away from her. “Then I’m going to have to make you.” His hand trailed lightly down her side. “You like me. Admit it.”
“No.”
He pinched her side. She squirmed.
He gave her an odd look then did it again. She grunted then wiggled away.
His smile broadened. “You’re ticklish.”
“No, I’m not.” She made a hasty retreat.
He followed her. “Yes, you are. I pinched you and you almost giggled.”
“I do not giggle.”
“Either you like me or you’re ticklish, you have to admit one.”
She snorted. “Or what?”
His eyes narrowed. “Or I’ll make a liar out of you and tickle you till you can’t breathe.”
“That would only work if I was ticklish.” She took another step back.
He arched a brow. “You’re denying it then?”
“I’m not playing your stupid gam –”
Cristian flew at her, knocking her to the ground. She grunted when she hit the cold snow. He kept her pinned there with his body weight. Then he tickled her. He actually tickled her like an eight-year-old child. It was so absurd she laughed. Uncomfortably at first, but then the floodgates opened and a rush of reckless abandon flowed out of her. And the bastard’s threat hadn’t been idle either. She kicked and squirmed and gasped for breath under his assault.
“Do you yield?” he asked with a prideful grin.
“Fuck…fuck…” She couldn’t even form a sentence.
“You wanna fuck? Here in the snow? A little cold but that can be arranged.” He went to pull off her shirt.
“No!” She was still laughing, though he’d stopped tickling her. “I yield.”
Finally he rolled off, collapsing in the snow next to her, a satisfied grin on his lips. They both lay under the starry sky, panting as the lingering chuckles died away.
“Goddamn you,” she breathed. She kept her gaze on the speckled blackness above them. “You’ve undone me.”
He chuckled and grabbed her hip, rolling her to face him on her side. “You needed undoing.”
“I didn’t ask for this.”
“One rarely does.” His eyes softened as he stared at her. “You have a beautiful laugh, puiule.”
A strange sensation fluttered in her chest. It beckoned the muscles around her mouth to lift into a smile. She recognized this emotion, though she hadn’t felt it in a very long time. Joy.
Lying in the snow with a werewolf who pushed every one of her buttons, hunting a sadistic killer, and she was grinning like a fool. Yup, it was official. She’d lost her goddamn mind.
To make matters worse, her hand reached out on its own volition and touched his face. Slowly. Hesitantly.
Cristian closed his eyes and whispered, “Yes.”
She explored him, stroking his beard, running her fingertips across his lips, tracing the laugh lines around his eyes. The world went silent around them. In this moment there was no Slayer, no werewolf pack or witches’ expectations. It was just Cristian and Natalia. A man and a woman.
He opened his eyes and gazed at her dreamily. Taking a strand of her hair between his fingers, he brought it to his nose and inhaled. “Rosu frumusete.”
“What does it mean?”
“Red beauty.” He tucked it behind her ear. “How I’ve longed to call you that.”
His hand moved from her hair down her neck, spreading a tingly warmth as it went. Then he leaned in and kissed her. A soft caress, as if he were afraid he’d scare her off. But it sent her soaring, away from the mountains, the hunt, the atrocities that brought them together. It took her to a place she didn’t know existed. Happiness. She couldn’t even feel the cold snow beneath her body.
When they pulled back for air, he kept a hand on her cheek. The
warmth from that one spot swept all the way down to her toes.
“Why me, Cristian?”
He stroked his thumb across her cheekbone. “Why you, what?”
“Of all the women you could have – women that would fit in your pack – why fight so hard for a vampire? For me?”
“Is it so hard for you to see?”
“It’s impossible for me to see.”
“Then you’re blind. Open your eyes and look at who you are.”
And here it was – the moment of truth. Time to show him who the Huntress really was. She closed her eyes and inhaled a shaky breath. When she opened them, she kept her gaze down on the snow. “A murderer. Empty, dark, unredeemable.” She looked up to gauge his reaction.
He smiled faintly. “You’re not looking.”
“You’re wearing rose-colored glasses.”
His hand moved to the back of her neck and he tugged her closer. “If you’re empty, then I’m the water that fills you. If you’re dark, then I’m your ray of light. If you’re unredeemable…”
She arched a brow. “You’re my savior?”
He nodded. “As you are mine.”
Chapter 17
The wolf’s howl pierced through the quiet night, clutching Cristian’s heart with warm fingers. Funny how the world went silent when it snowed. Like the snow blanketed the noise as it did the ground.
Natalia, as astute as she was, didn’t miss the small shudder that swept through his body at the sound of the wolves. “Do you need to run?”
And leave this moment of near perfection, Natalia relaxed and smiling? Hell, no. His body shook again, in response to the new moon’s pull. She smiled wider.
“What?” he asked, sitting up in the snow.
“Nothing.” Her smile turned flirty. “It’s just cute. Your response to the moon.”
Both brows shot up. “Cute?” Tensed to pounce, he narrowed his eyes and muttered, “I’ll show you cute.”
She laughed as he tackled her then covered her neck with love bites. He looked down with a grin. “Still think I’m cute?”
“Oh, no, you’re a formidable werewolf for sure,” she answered with a roll of her eyes.
Who was this laughing, flirting woman making his heart leap in pride? He wanted to howl with joy. His Natalia, finally melting, for him.
“Go on.” She pushed him slightly. “Go run with your wolves. I’ll close up the chalet for daylight.”
He didn’t want to leave her and got ready to say so, but the howl echoed through the night, closer this time, and he couldn’t stop his body’s response.
Natalia smiled genuinely. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
He nodded and stood up, pulling her with him. He stripped off his clothing, enjoying her lust-filled eyes as she watched. With a grin and a wink, he shifted to his lupus form – a large tan wolf.
She stooped down. They stared at each other for a moment and he could see her curiosity. She reached out, hesitantly, to touch his fur. He rubbed against her, giving her permission. Her fingers curled around the thick coat at his neck and her mouth lifted at the corners. If he were a cat, he’d be purring.
“I’m beginning to see the benefits of keeping you this way. Foremost, you can’t talk.”
He growled and nipped at her hand.
She laughed, a light sound that bubbled up freely from her belly. He could get addicted to that sound. He licked her face, enjoying the salty taste even more as a wolf.
“Stop that!” She shoved him away. “I don’t know where that tongue’s been.”
He licked her one more time then took off into the trees, kicking up snow as he went.
***
She watched the blonde wolf disappear into the trees while her chuckles faded. She rose from the ground and dusted off her pants. Maybe the wolfy-ness wasn’t so bad. She was actually having fun. And there wasn’t even any bloodshed.
She spun around to return to the chalet. Three steps and the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She lifted her gaze and froze.
The Slayer stood at the tree line, opposite where Cristian had gone. Her heart thudded in her ears. How long had he been watching them? And how could they have missed his scent? She inhaled through her nose. Even downwind there was no hint of him. She’d heard witches and sorcerers could make cloaking potions that hid a body’s musk, making it impossible to track them.
As if he could read her mind, he smiled and said, “You’re not the only one who can make deals with witches.”
He took several steps forward. Instinctively, she stepped back then cursed and forced her feet to remain in place. The Slayer stood at ease with his hands clasped behind his back, as if she was no more of a threat than a pesky bug. He was just as she’d remembered. Wickedly handsome, well-groomed, and dark. He didn’t wear a suit this time though he still managed to look upper class in his black ski jacket and dark wash jeans. Her mind struggled to wrap around the fact that this attractive man had the potential for such evil.
The body of the teenager from the woods flashed in her mind. Not just that girl but countless others. Bodies piled up in her head. Missing children posters. Pain, fear, loss.
Anger grew in the pit of her stomach. Her fists clenched and she stalked toward him. It was time to end this.
“Good to see you again, Huntress.” His smile was taunting.
“You’re here alone. Are you finally ready to finish this?”
A smile tugged at his lips. “Careful, vampire. Don’t get overconfident. I’m not like the puppy dogs you’ve fought before.”
“No, you’re worse. You’re a coward. A sick, twisted, coward of a puppy dog.”
“And now you insult me?” His smirk was mocking. “Not very smart.”
She snorted. “What are you going to do? Kill me harder?”
He smiled then peered around them. “Where’s your werewolf friend?”
So he hadn’t been there for long. Maybe Cristian would stay away while she finished this. She couldn’t save all the Slayer’s victims, but she could make sure he was safe. “It’s just you and me.” A throwing knife flew from her boot and landed in her open palm. “Now, stop stalling and fight me, mother fucker.”
Chapter 18
The Slayer didn’t bother to undress. One moment he was human, the next he seemed to burst out of his skin. His clothes flew into the air in a flurry of shredded fabric. Standing on two legs, he was the biggest supernatural creature she’d ever seen. All muscle, not an ounce of fat on him, with patches of gray fur covering his white skin, giving him the appearance of a silver creature from hell. His face was entirely lupine – a large muzzle with three-inch-long teeth. Ten clawed fingers curled at his sides. And when he growled, she could swear the trees swayed.
She was no dummy. Hand-to-hand would be difficult with this giant fucker. She threw three knives as hard as she could at her target. All three punctured his thick skin. He didn’t even flinch. He pulled them out then tossed them into the trees. Way into the trees. Good thing she had at least half a dozen more.
The Slayer took a step forward then – plop. He sunk down into the snow, just as Cristian had earlier. She used the advantage. Dagger in hand, she flipped over his struggling body so she stood behind him. Just as she went to slice through his neck, he managed to reach behind and grasp her arm.
Suddenly, she was airborne then slammed on her back in the hard snow. The air rushed out of her lungs and it took her a moment to heave in a breath. The Slayer kept a firm grip on her arm. She swung around and kicked him in the neck. He grunted then released her. Flipping to her stomach, she scrambled up to get out of arm’s reach. But he was faster and grabbed her ankle. She kicked at him and twisted, but he dug his nails into her skin. She held back a scream.
Focus! Using her gift, she concentrated on pulling another knife from her boot.
But the Slayer got it first. Her calf exploded in pain and she howled. The knife cut straight through her muscle to the edge of her bone.
She jumped up and spun around. Her jaw dropped. Another beast had joined the Slayer. This one was just as tall, but with blonde fur and, gods, if it was possible, more muscle. The blonde had the Slayer pinned to a tree, both snarling and biting. The tree strained under their weight.
Then the blonde wolf flew back, sliding across the snow. He jumped up and shook with a growl. That was when he noticed her. He spun, pinning her with a sharp glare. His eyes were full of rage, like the Slayer, but the only difference…one was brown and one was blue.
Cristian. She stepped up to his side and crouched in a defensive position. Cristian grunted then nudged her back with a solid, furry arm. He wanted her to stay behind him?
“Like hell! You know I’m the better fighter, right?”
His answering snarl was as threatening as the Slayer’s. But they didn’t have time for a growling contest. The Slayer’s body slammed into Cristian, both of them rolling and flipping through the snow.
With a strangled grunt, she pulled the knife free from her calf and gripped it tightly in her palm. She watched them wrestle, a blur of over-sized furry bodies, waiting for the opportunity to strike. Then the Slayer soared into the trees, howling when he landed.
She lunged to follow him, but something caught her around the waist and threw her backward. Jumping up quickly, she yelled, “Damn it, Cristian! This is my fight!”
But he was already gone. The trees groaned, the ground rumbled as they fought in the forest. She couldn’t see them anymore, only heard the vicious grumbles and snapping of teeth. Frustration gnawed at her.
With a huff, she sprinted toward the noise. The Slayer had Cristian pinned, his clawed hands wrapped around his neck. Natalia launched herself at the werewolf, slicing through his side before he tossed her hard into a tree. Stars danced in her eyes as she fought to stay awake. The savage howl that pierced the air made the hair rise at the back of her neck. And a blonde bulk of fur twisted free then blurred as he pummeled the Slayer over and over. Viciously, ruthlessly. Blood splashed stark red against the snow. Gradually the growls ceased and a calm settled over the forest.
